The Contract Wife Tries to Leave - Chapter 64
The garment had fallen near her feet. Sitting up from where she’d been lying, Johanna grabbed it and slipped her arms through the sleeves. As she struggled to dress with shaking hands, Leonid’s piercing gaze bore down on her from above.
Once she managed to put on the nightgown, Johanna stood on unsteady legs. The robe was draped over the back of the sofa. She reached for it, her balance wavering slightly before she regained her footing. The soft silk fabric caught on her fingers, and she hurriedly pulled it over her shoulders as if it were a protective shield.
Her body, still drenched in the Alpha’s pheromones, continued to shiver intermittently, as if seized by convulsions. The lingering heat and unfulfilled desire gnawed at her mind, making her thoughts feel raw and inflamed. Johanna clasped her trembling hands together tightly.
What should I say now?
She stared down at the floor, her lips moving soundlessly. Just moments ago, she had been in heaven, only to be cast into hell. The shame and despair of having taken pleasure in his touch, in the cascade of his kisses, were overwhelming.
She had once thought her feelings for him were akin to admiration, a distant form of affection. But after what had happened, she knew for certain. Her desires were no different from those of any other Omega.
She wanted to touch him, to merge with him, to be loved by him…
And that realization, that she had harbored such longing, was the most despairing of all.
“I’m sorry…”
“……”
“I’m so sorry…”
She didn’t even know what she was saying, just blurting out the words as they came to her. All she wanted was to escape this place. Only once she was alone, hidden away in her own space, could she think about what had just happened—or anything at all.
Johanna took a few hesitant steps backward, moving purely on instinct. Her ankle bumped against the leg of a console table, causing her to startle and glance behind her. The wall blocked her retreat, and the door was on the opposite side of the room.
Leonid, until then, had stood motionless, his expression cold and hard as he glared at her. A frigid anger radiated from him, though she couldn’t tell if it was directed at her or at himself.
“Stay right there.”
His voice stopped her just as she was about to make a break for the door. She jumped, then turned to look at him, her expression a mix of confusion and apprehension. Leonid bent down to pick up something from the floor, then slowly approached her. Johanna’s eyes fell on the object in his hand—her slippers.
He tossed them at her feet with a careless flick of his wrist. She stood frozen, clutching the fabric of her robe, staring down at the slippers in a daze. His icy voice cut through her stupor.
“Put them on.”
“Ah…”
Only then did she realize she was barefoot. She had almost walked out into the hallway without shoes. How mortifying it would have been if the servants had seen her like that. Her face burned with embarrassment. Johanna hurriedly slipped her feet into the slippers, then hesitated, still feeling his sharp gaze on her as she awkwardly offered a small bow.
“Thank you… I’ll… take my leave now…”
Her heart pounded so violently that she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. Johanna’s gaze drifted somewhere around his jawline as she instinctively backed away. The cold metal of the door handle pressed into her back. Reaching behind her, she grasped it and turned her body, ready to make her escape. But just as she was about to pull the door open, a large hand suddenly appeared, gripping the handle and yanking it shut.
Bang!
The door slammed shut with a loud, dull thud.
Johanna froze, stiff as a board. A dark, looming shadow fell over her, and she clutched the handle with both hands as if it were her lifeline. Slowly, she turned her head, and her gaze was met with eyes as sharp as a thousand needles.
“Are you angry?”
“Pardon?”
The unexpected question took a moment to register in her mind. Johanna blinked in confusion, staring at Leonid. Angry? She couldn’t fathom what he meant by that.
“I’m… not angry.”
She wasn’t in any position to be angry with him. She was entirely at his mercy, obligated to follow whatever he demanded.
Even if their arrangement was a transaction to achieve mutual goals, their circumstances were vastly different. Without his support, she would be ruined, but he didn’t need her specifically to provide an heir. There were plenty of other suitable options out there. She was replaceable.
