Filed to story: When His Wife Can’t Forgive
Corey dismissed the offer with a wave of his hand, uninterested in any further conversation on the matter. “From now on, no smoking, no drinking, and no indulgent habits of any kind. Keep yourself clean. Cut off unnecessary social ties and focus solely on Gemma.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. “Your annual salary will be tripled.”
Pierre instantly understood Corey’s meaning. He looked up, his expression a mix of emotions. “Mr. Hampton, I’m just an ordinary bodyguard,” he said quietly.
Corey scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “A million a year doesn’t tempt you?”
“It’s not about the money. It’s just that I’m only suited to be a bodyguard,” Pierre replied evenly.
“Do you think you have the luxury of choice when your job is to risk your life? Gemma fancies you, and you should be grateful. Don’t you understand that?”
Pierre’s fists clenched tightly at his sides, his silence speaking louder than words-a quiet defiance that Corey didn’t miss.
“What’s this?” Corey pressed, his gaze narrowing. “Do you have someone in your heart?”
Pierre almost let the truth slip, but a chilling thought stopped him. Knowing Corey’s influence, admitting such a thing would only put his girl’s life at risk. Corey wouldn’t hesitate to turn the country upside down to find her-and destroy her.
“No,” Pierre answered, his voice low.
Corey didn’t seem interested in the truth. Even if Pierre did harbor feelings for someone, he could make her vanish without a trace. He said irritably, “Get out.”
The sudden family matter demanded Corey’s attention, forcing him to temporarily put his dealings with Caden on hold. It was a rare occasion for Gemma to go out and have fun with Corey, and he was determined to ensure she enjoyed herself.
Taking Gemma to the expansive horse ranch, Corey smiled and asked, “Do you want to ride a horse?”
Gemma’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Growing up under Corey’s strict supervision, she had rarely been allowed to try anything remotely dangerous. So, the prospect of riding a horse filled her with eagerness. “Can I?”
Corey nodded but added firmly, “Someone has to ride with you.”
Upon hearing Corey’s suggestion, Gemma instinctively glanced at Pierre. After that night, she had calmed down, and Pierre continued to care for her with his usual composed demeanor. Perhaps it was her growing curiosity about Pierre that made her consider asking him to ride with her.
But with Corey standing there, his watchful gaze unwavering, Gemma decided otherwise. She slipped her arm around Corey’s, leaning into him. “Then you ride with me.”
Corey, ever perceptive, immediately saw through her facade. A teasing smirk played on his lips. “You sound so reluctant. Is there someone better than your brother you’d rather ride with?”
Gemma’s heart skipped a beat. She quickly shook her head. “No, I don’t.”
Satisfied, Corey smiled faintly before turning his attention to Pierre. “Pierre, take a ride first and tame the horse.”
Pierre nodded, mounting the horse with effortless grace. His tall, commanding presence naturally drew attention. Gemma’s eyes were fixed on Pierre, her gaze lingering.
Corey, however, had his attention elsewhere-he was watching Gemma. With a resigned sigh, he shook his head.
After taming the horse, Pierre approached Gemma and effortlessly lifted her onto the saddle. He climbed up behind her, wrapping his arms securely around her and tightening the reins. At first, Gemma was tense, fear evident in her posture. But as the ride continued, she began to relax, leaning against Pierre’s solid frame.
“Go slowly,” she murmured, her voice soft and still tinged with apprehension.
Pierre nodded, careful to avoid the faint fragrance emanating from her. “If you feel uncomfortable, let me know immediately. If you can’t speak, pinch my hand.”
“Okay,” Gemma replied.
Outside the riding arena, Corey stood with his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving Gemma. He watched as the horse began to pick up speed, and Gemma’s initial hesitation gave way to pure joy.
Seeing Gemma so happy, Corey found himself smiling too. This year had been a monumental one for him-he had achieved countless milestones and received numerous awards. Yet, none of those compared to the simple joy of today.
Pierre’s ears were filled with the sound of Gemma’s laughter. Her voice was as clear as a bell, soft and soothing, tugging at something he couldn’t quite name. Instinctively, he held her tighter.
Gemma noticed the shift, turning her head slightly to look at him. Her long hair brushed against his chest, the light, fleeting touch stealing his breath. Her face, framed by the sunlight, was beautiful and innocent. She truly was Corey’s most precious gem.
Pierre pressed his lips together, holding back a flood of emotions. Leaning closer, he asked softly, “Gemma, do you want to go faster?”
Gemma blinked at him, surprised by the way he said her name. It made her laugh, light and carefree. She nodded obediently. Hiding the ice that flickered in his eyes, Pierre kicked the horse, urging it forward.
From the sidelines, Corey watched as the horse picked up speed. His protective instincts kicked in immediately. He opened his mouth to shout for Pierre to slow down.
Gemma let out a frightened scream.
Pierre reacted instantly, pulling hard on the reins in an attempt to regain control. But the action only agitated the horse further, causing it to rear back violently, hooves thrashing in the air.
As soon as Corey sensed something was wrong with the horse, he sprinted forward, but it was too late to catch Gemma. Fortunately, Pierre reacted quickly. He managed to roll off the horse, keeping Gemma safe in the process.
The lawn may have been soft, but the fall still took its toll. When Pierre finally stopped rolling, blood was trickling from his head. For a few seconds, his vision blurred.
Thankfully, Gemma was unharmed under his protection.
As soon as Gemma steadied herself, she rushed to Pierre’s side. The sight of blood covering his wound made her panic, and she broke into tears.
Corey was alarmed at the sound of her cries, panic seizing him. He hurried over, scooping her up and inspecting her for injuries. “Are you okay? Where does it hurt? Don’t cry. I’m here,” he said, his voice trembling as his heart raced.
After a quick look, Corey found no signs of bleeding or broken bones. Relieved, he exhaled deeply.
Gemma clung to his hand, her voice trembling as she sobbed. “I’m fine! Please, check on Pierre! He’s bleeding! I’m scared he might’ve hurt his head.”
Corey nodded, relief washing over him. Turning his focus to Pierre, he saw Pierre struggling to sit up.
Despite his condition, Pierre’s first concern was Gemma. “Are you hurt, Miss Hampton?” he asked, his voice steady despite the pain.
Tears still streaming down her face, Gemma crawled closer to examine his wound.
Pierre’s gaze flickered briefly, but he didn’t flinch under her touch. “I’m fine,” he reassured her, his tone soft but firm.
Corey, watching his sister so visibly shaken, sat quietly behind them, trying to steady his own breath as the chaotic moment settled into silence.
Corey’s anger still simmered after the incident with the horse, so he decided to cool off at the bar with a drink.
A few glasses in, tipsiness began to set in, and when a woman approached Corey, he didn’t turn her away. Things escalated quickly. Instead of bothering with a hotel, Corey wasted no time and took her to one of the private rooms at the bar.
In the heat of the moment, Corey noticed something unusual in the middle – her hymen was fake.
The discovery sapped his interest, but he finished what she started anyway. When it was over, he handed her some cash, though he wasn’t in a hurry to send her on her way.
The woman lingered, clearly attracted to him. She didn’t seem to care about the money and hinted that she would like another round of intimacy. Nestled in his arms, she radiated an eagerness to please him.
Corey lit a cigarette and took a long, deliberate drag, his thoughts elsewhere.
When her hand moved lower, brushing against his stomach, he suddenly grabbed the back of her head, lifting her slightly. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Where did you learn moves like that?”
She chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you like it?”
His gaze darkened, cutting through her playful tone. “Just answer me honestly.”
The amusement faded from her face as she noticed the storm brewing in his expression. Unwilling to provoke him further, she replied quietly, “I did not learn from anyone. I just figured it out by experience. “
Corey’s eyes narrowed. “Can men just ‘figure out’ how to please women on their own?”
“What?” she asked, unsure how to answer. There wasn’t a single good man among those who frequented places like this in search of fleeting pleasure. None of them cared about pleasing a woman – it was always about their own desires.
Corey tossed the woman some money, his tone casual but commanding. “Teach me some moves. ‘
The woman’s eyes widened in surprise at his bluntness. “Yeah, tell me what guys do to make women happy,” Corey said.
Soon Pierre received a video from Corey. He opened it hesitantly, and as the content played, his expression changed from intrigue to numbness, his features growing darker and darker. Pierre was no stranger to the world of desire. He did not need lessons from anyone. But Corey’s crude, unfiltered behavior left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn’t just distasteful – it was disgusting. The message was clear: Corey intended to turn him into a mere plaything for Gemma’s amusement.
And the thought of it unsettled Pierre deeply. He could already see the future unfolding – one in which Gemma finally tired of him and Corey saw him as nothing more than a liability to be extinguished.
Cruelty had always been Corey’s way. Pierre could not escape the haunting memory of Corey’s ruthlessness in Terrieland. Corey had been a cold, unfeeling machine, taking lives as if they were mere objects, harvesting organs with no regard for humanity. The gruesome memories replayed vividly in Pierre’s mind, each scene igniting a wave of anger that made his blood boil. Just then, Gemma’s soft voice broke through the storm in his head. “Pierre?” she called softly.
Pierre shook off his dark thoughts and slipped his phone into his pocket as she approached, masking his emotions with practiced ease.
Seeing that Pierre wasn’t asleep, she walked over. “1 noticed you weren’t eating much, so I had the hotel send over some food.
“Thank you,” Pierre replied curtly, his mood noticeably off. Gemma didn’t think much of it. She assumed he was just feeling down because of his injury.
Unlike before, Pierre did not politely refuse the food. Instead, he ate everything without hesitation.
Gemma leaned in closer, concern evident in her expression. “Does it still hurt?”
Pierre’s gaze met hers – her innocent, doe-like eyes, pure and untainted, like crystal clear water. But he was not in the mood. “Your brother has decided I’m yours now,” Pierre said abruptly, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Gemma frowned, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?
“I’m just a toy to you now. You can do whatever you want with me,” Pierre replied coldly, his voice tinged with bitterness. Hearing his words made Gemma uneasy. “What do you mean by a toy? Don’t reduce yourself to that!”
Don’t you like me?” Pierre pressed, his voice deep and cutting. Gemma was taken aback, her cheeks burning as she stammered, “I… Who says I like you!”
Suddenly, Pierre leaned closer, his unexpected movement catching Gemma off guard.
Gemma froze, her eyes wide and her breath catching in her throat. But she didn’t pull away.
Seeing her like that stirred something deep inside Pierre, and in a fleeting moment of villainy, he reached out to turn off the
out the light.
In the enveloping darkness, Gemma flinched slightly, her fingers instinctively clutching his shirt as if it were the last piece of driftwood in a raging storm.
Pierre’s arms closed around her without hesitation, holding her tightly yet gently.
The intensity of his unexpected passion sent her heart racing, leaving her stunned and confused. Just as she parted her lips to ask what was happening, his mouth captured hers, silencing her unspoken questions with a kiss that left no room for doubt.
Gemma had never been in a situation like this. She had hardly ever interacted with men, let alone had one kiss her forcibly.
Pierre’s approach, however, was different. His movements were sudden but deliberate, as if he was waiting to see how she would react. At first Gemma was frozen, too stunned to react. But when she felt his tongue brush against hers, she instinctively bit down, embarrassed and angry. Pierre, however, was persistent, gently prying her lips open.
Fear surged through Gemma, but the soft sounds that escaped her mouth were uncertain, caught somewhere between reluctant surrender and desperate plea.