A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Ella couldn’t help but question her allure. Where had she gone wrong?

Previously, even when Yvan didn’t lay a finger on her, his eyes still held a certain warmth. This time, when Yvan asked her to stay overnight, she thought maybe, just maybe, something real might happen between them. But, to her dismay, Yvan remained as detached as ever.

Could it really be that after five long years, he had no desire to touch her?

She refused to believe it. If he didn’t want her, why would he keep her close for five years? Why shower her with affection?

Then it hit her. It must be because of Matilda’s presence in the house; that’s why Yvan was acting this way. If only Matilda and her son didn’t exist! Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

A surge of dark intent swelled within Ella’s eyes as she slipped into her lingerie and draped a sheer nightgown over herself, one as thin as a butterfly’s wings. She checked her tousled, sensual hair in the mirror before opening the door and stepping out.

Yvan was in the midst of shedding his shirt when he saw Ella in her seductive attire. His movements halted, his fingers stiffening over the buttons before he continued. Without a word, he strode past her into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

The speed of his dismissal left Ella stunned, but she quickly reassured herself. It couldn’t be disinterest; Yvan must have been startled by her appearance, she thought.

With a semblance of calm restored, Ella positioned herself enticingly on the bed and distracted herself with her phone. As soon as the sound of running water from the en–suite bathroom ceased, she switched her attention back to the door, silently waiting for Yvan to emerge.

He appeared, his face as exquisitely handsome as ever.

Ella had fallen for those mesmerizing eyes five years ago, but those same eyes had since remained impassive as if nothing could stir his interest following Rachel’s death.

When he looked at her, it was always with a sense of nostalgia–a longing for Rachel.

Ella knew that her resemblance to Rachel was the reason she had been able to stay by Yvan’s side for so long. Yet, after five years, she desperately wanted to be truly desired. But Yvan offered nothing more than embraces as if he needed nothing more.

Yet, it was evident… Matilda had been pregnant, and Ella had confirmed that the child was Yvan’s. The child had been lost before Ella could intervene, a fact that gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Why was he willing to be with Matilda but not with her? In what way was she inferior to Matilda?

Watching Yvan lie down beside her, Ella reached out to embrace him, pressing her body against his, and murmured in a daze, “Yvan…”

It was a voice no man could resist.

Yvan murmured low in response, patting her back in a patronizing manner, “Sleep now, goodnight.”

That’s it? Just like that?

Ella was not content. Seizing the cover of darkness, she grabbed the back of Yvan’s head and kissed him fervently.

At that moment, as the warm touch of lips neared, Yvan’s head exploded with sound. He quickly pushed Ella away, but it was too late–the kiss had landed on his lips.

Instantly, his mind was flooded with images of Matilda, vulnerable and trembling beneath him, her skin exposed and hauntingly pale.

Yvan felt feverish all over.

Ella, pushed aside by Yvan, persisted, once again wrapping her arms around his neck, determined as ever, and leaned in for another attempt.