When That Door Opens - Chapter 63
Someone he had just met was clinging to him desperately.
‘Is this interesting?’
Writers are naturally a curious breed. Julieta had piqued Verne’s curiosity as a writer.
Verne opened the carriage door wide and stepped aside.
“If you wish.”
Julieta did not hesitate and stepped into the carriage.
* * *
Julieta stared blankly at Verne, the handsome man in front of her. The carriage carrying her headed towards Verne’s mansion on the outskirts of the capital.
Without even catching her breath, she thrust her manuscript at Verne.
‘Read this in place of paying for my treatment!’
Verne raised an eyebrow at her words but reluctantly took the manuscript. Time passed. Julieta’s mouth grew dry as she waited for his evaluation.
“I’ve read it.”
Finally, he turned the last page. Verne handed the manuscript back to her politely.
“Is that all?”
“You asked me to read it.”
“What did you think…”
Verne’s expression twisted in annoyance. He felt a vague attraction to her, but her demand for a critique made his slight interest dissipate.
The writing was mediocre. Verne had intended to rest in the carriage, but now he felt his time had been wasted.
He crossed his legs swiftly, leaning back against the seat, resting his chin on the window frame. The polite gentleman was gone, replaced by a dangerous man exuding a dark aura.
Verne licked his lips with his red tongue. He stared at Julieta intensely, his gaze so blatant that she felt stripped naked. Her eyes fell downward, and she gulped in nervousness.
“I’m not actually that much of a gentleman.”
Verne dropped the courteous tone. Though his voice was still pleasant to hear, the arrogance in his tone grated on Julieta’s nerves.
“I try to be polite to women I meet for the first time. But you’re not a woman; you’re a writer. A hyena trying to extract something from me.”
Julieta couldn’t argue. It was true that she sought and wanted Verne’s help. Her ears turned red with shame.
“Are you asking me to edit it for you?”
Verne sneered. His tone was mocking, but the weight of his words wasn’t light. The pressure he exerted was overwhelming.
“Want me to evaluate it? It’s trash from start to finish. How can I even evaluate it?”
His words were harsh. Each word he spat was like a dagger stabbing Julieta’s heart. She bit her lower lip hard. At that moment, he squeezed her cheek.
“I hate seeing blood. Don’t bite your lip unless you plan on jumping out. Or are you asking me to bite it for you?”
Verne’s attitude turned savage as if flipping a coin. His hand slowly trailed down the side of Julieta’s face. His hand wandered around her neck, eventually touching her collarbone. His fingers slowly roamed around her shoulder and collarbone, pressing into the hollow.
“I could give you an assessment of your body, though. Want to hear that?”
Julieta trembled with severe indignation. She looked up and stared straight at Verne.
His eyes roamed over her face. Julieta, speechless at the arrogant man’s attitude, parted her lips. Seeing her lips slightly open, a flicker of interest appeared in Verne’s eyes.
“When we reach the mansion, I’ll lend you a carriage to return quietly. This manuscript is worthless; use it as kindling for a fire.”
Verne smirked and leaned back. Normally, such an insult would have been intolerable, but the desperation of this being her last chance crushed her pride. Despite shattering Julieta’s illusions about him, Verne’s skill was undeniable. She clenched her eyes shut.
“Please teach me.”
Julieta, cornered, knelt down. Verne’s impassive gaze eyed her from top to bottom.
“Teach me how to write e****c novels properly.”
Julieta and Verne locked eyes. His indifferent eyes scanned her from top to bottom.
“Why are you so obsessed with writing? Is it for money?”
“I have debts.”
“How cliché.”
“I’ll do anything. Anything!”
Verne’s cold eyes pinned her down. Her voice, tinged with desperation, the redness of her earlobes, and her lips she chewed on in frustration were strangely attractive to him.
As expected, he felt himself stir.
“Anything?”
When he lifted her chin, her chest rose. Her fair and delicate skin seemed so fragile that even a slight touch might leave a mark.
“Yes, anything.”
Her tear-streaked face looked up at him as she knelt.
Verne uncrossed his legs and trapped her between them.
“Have you ever done it?”
