Chapter 128 Don’t You Come for Us for Sex?
Byron’s presence, despite his earlier cold treatment, was almost overwhelming. Athena’s heart skipped a beat, the conflicting emotions swirling within her as she tried to maintain some control. His fierce kiss, the way his hands roamed over her body, everything about him was a force she couldn’t easily resist. But this time, something was different. She wasn’t the naive woman she had once been. She was no longer the submissive, docile person he had been accustomed to.
When she pulled away from the kiss, the air around them seemed charged, and she quickly turned her attention to the food she had been preparing. Her annoyance bubbled up despite the intimate moment. “Mr. Crawford, I am still stewing a pot of soup!” she said, pushing him back.
Byron, however, didn’t seem to care about the interruption. His heated breath lingered on her neck as he calmed his own emotions, leaning in to plant another kiss on her skin. Athena winced but held her ground. She wasn’t going to let him dictate the pace this time.
As the kiss moved down her neck, Athena couldn’t help but think back to the notebook Byron had been reading. That damned notebook. It had been something she started writing out of necessity, a way to navigate their complex, often volatile relationship. She had cataloged everything about him, including his emotional states, preferences, and the numerous small things that made him who he was. It had become a tool, a map for how to deal with him. But Byron reading it… that was a whole other matter.
Her thoughts scattered when Byron’s grip tightened on her, and the memory of the notebook flickered in her mind. His voice, rough and tinged with something darker, broke the silence. “So, you’ve been preparing to pass me along to someone else?” he asked, his tone a mixture of amusement and anger.
Athena immediately felt the sting of his words. Her stomach twisted with guilt, but there was no denying that the truth was in his eyes. She had kept detailed notes, not just on his preferences but on his moods, his behavior, and yes, even his emotions. She had done this as a way to survive, to understand him, but now that he knew, the entire effort felt like a betrayal.
She froze when Byron bit her earlobe roughly, a flash of pain making her gasp. The sharpness of his touch was unmistakable, and it was meant to punish, to remind her of the power he held over her.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice low and filled with mockery. His eyes held something darker—resentment? Anger? Whatever it was, it unsettled her more than it should have.
“Didn’t you record that the more delicate and pitiful, the better?” Byron’s words, laden with irony, seemed to mock her. He pushed her back onto the sofa, his intense gaze holding her in place. “Why so fierce then?”
Athena clenched her jaw, struggling to maintain control. “You’ve no right to peek at my notes!” she shot back, her tone sharper than she intended. She was still reeling from the implications of his actions, and the fact that he was now twisting everything she had done to survive with him into something else made her feel exposed.
Byron’s eyes glinted with a mixture of fury and frustration. He wasn’t the man she had first met—the one who had been indifferent, distant, and controlled. This was the man who had been broken by Freya, and now, somehow, he had transferred that brokenness onto her. His emotions were raw and unfiltered now. “So, you gave the notebook to Ruby, did you?” he asked, his voice cold as ice.
Athena’s stomach dropped as she realized what he was implying. “Did you go to Ruby’s place last night?” she asked, her voice trembling despite herself.
Byron’s response was sharp, laced with anger. “Am I so dissolute in your eyes? I should be with either this woman or that, shouldn’t I?” His tone was filled with resentment, and it cut through her like a knife. The bitterness in his voice wasn’t just directed at Ruby, but at her, too.
Athena tried to steady herself, though she could feel the weight of his emotions pressing down on her. “Don’t you come for us for sex?” she asked, the question slipping out before she could stop it. The words felt like a punch in the gut, but they were honest. She remembered the night she had agreed to be Freya’s substitute, how Byron hadn’t even given her time to prepare. He had immediately taken her to the hotel, and the whole experience had been filled with pain and humiliation.
That night had been a blur of conflicting emotions. The pain wasn’t just physical—it had been emotional, too. The way Byron had treated her, the way he had transferred his anger toward Freya onto her, had nearly broken her. But now, in this moment, that old wound flared up again.
Byron’s face darkened as if he could feel the weight of her words. “Is that all you think of me? That I just come for sex?” His voice had lost its earlier sharpness, replaced by something more raw, vulnerable. He seemed hurt, even though he was angry.
Athena closed her eyes for a moment, trying to compose herself. The past wasn’t easy to forget, but perhaps it was time to move forward—to stop living in the shadow of old wounds. Byron was right in some ways: she had always been just a substitute, never truly his. But now, things were different. Could she let go of the past? Could she move on with him, knowing what had happened, or would the pain always linger between them?