Despite the difference in appearance, the moment he met her eyes, his heart winced as if pricked by a needle, and he involuntarily cried out the name “Winifred Dawson.”
At that moment, Leland Burns felt a fierce heat throughout his body; he had been drugged.
Leland Burns was always cautious. He hadn’t expected to fall into such a trap tonight, especially on his own turf where every drink served was checked. Yet, he had still been poisoned, a truly humiliating disgrace.
Leland Burns had strong self-control. Even drugged, he managed to suppress the drug’s effects and maintain complete control over himself.
When he realized he had been drugged, he took his private elevator, planning to return to his room to quell the intense heat in his body. However, upon opening the door, he was shocked to find a woman lying on the floor.
Anger surged through him immediately, his first thought being that this woman must be in league with those who had drugged him.
Those familiar with him knew he had abstained from women for years, living ascetically like a monk. Initially, people sent women his way, but they soon stopped daring to do so once they understood his temperament.
In his world, there were only two kinds of women: Winifred Dawson and all the others.
Except for Winifred Dawson, he touched no one, nor did he feel any stirrings.
Even though the drug induced a physical response, he never considered seeking out a woman to alleviate his discomfort.
Therefore, upon opening his door and seeing an unknown woman intruding into his territory, his immediate reaction was anger. Rage filled his chest, and he wanted to strangle the woman before him.
Even if he actually killed her, he had the means to handle the situation and avoid any trouble.
Leland Burns was highly territorial and vengeful. If someone made him suffer, he would retaliate tenfold, even a hundredfold.
Hence, no one dared to offend him. Perhaps it was his overconfidence that led to his downfall tonight.
Leland Burns grabbed the woman’s throat, his first thought being “this must be a setup.”
His dark eyes blended into the night. Did they really think that simply throwing a woman at him and drugging him would be enough to subdue him? They had underestimated him.
If he were that easily manipulated, he would be no better than a beast in heat.
After tonight, he vowed to utterly destroy these people!
But the next second, when he saw the woman’s eyes, he froze.
His heart, which had been hardened, felt as if it had been fiercely struck, its tough exterior instantly shattering to reveal a tender, fragile core.
Leland Burns’ eyes turned blood-red, as if they were about to bleed. The body he had managed to endure a second ago heated up instantly upon seeing this woman. His fingertips trembled uncontrollably, and even his breathing felt scorching, as if his entire body was about to melt.
Clutching his fists tightly, the pain from his nails digging into his flesh couldn’t bring him back to full rationality.
He saw the shadow of Winifred Dawson in this woman. They were completely different in appearance, yet it was perhaps the eyes, or maybe the gaze, the expression, and even the figure…
In this woman, he found a long-lost desire and impulse, nearly uncontrollable and about to burst forth.
“Winifred Dawson…”
Startled, Winifred Dawson looked like a deer caught in headlights.
Who was this man before her? Why did he know her name?
Winifred Dawson had no time to ponder; she sensed danger and wanted to flee the place quickly, but the man’s gaze held her as if she were caught in invisible wires.
Like a butterfly stuck on a spider’s web, the more she struggled, the tighter the web clung to her. Not only that, it attracted danger. She saw the “spider” getting closer and the next second, it would bite her dead, turning her into its meal.
Winifred Dawson, trembling with fear, glanced back and forth between the door and Leland Burns, supporting herself on the ground and retreating step by step to get away from this man.
The man looked down at her imposingly.
Even from such a distance, Winifred Dawson could feel Leland Burns’ scorching breath. When she looked at Leland Burns, she accidentally met his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was enduring something, his entire demeanor exuded domination.
Winifred Dawson was terrified. She retreated, trying to escape the place and crawl towards the door. The moment she turned her back to Leland Burns, her ankle was grabbed.
Winifred Dawson cried out hoarsely, a silent plea for mercy, hoping the man would spare her.
“Speak, who sent you here!”
Winifred Dawson shook her head, tears covering her face.
The person holding her reacted even more strongly, unable to distinguish whether it was the effect of the drug or the effect of this woman.
Why could he sense Winifred Dawson’s presence from her? Although this face was not as pretty as Winifred Dawson’s, the reaction she triggered in him was overwhelmingly strong, like a floodgate bursting open with desire.
“Not talking, huh?” He picked up the woman, threw her harshly onto the bed, and spat out harshly, “Then what comes next is your own doing!”
Winifred Dawson silently screamed, “Don’t.” Like a frightened rabbit, she tried to flee but was firmly pinned down by the man, with nowhere to hide.
A ripping sound was heard as her clothes were torn apart, and her skin shivered under the cold air.
A thunderclap outside the window illuminated Leland Burns’ face, terrifying.
His desire erupted, and Leland Burns kissed Winifred Dawson’s lips, just as he had imagined, exactly like Winifred Dawson’s lips. Leland Burns’ scalp tightened, his mind exploded; he somewhat loathed being controlled by drugs at this moment, yet he couldn’t control his desire for this woman who had suddenly intruded.
He stared intently at the unwilling face of the woman, his gaze locking onto her eyes, and she made a harsh, raspy sound from her throat. He released her lips.
From the moment he touched her lips, Leland Burns had completely lost himself, willingly immersing himself in the drugs, venting his desire and his longing for Winifred Dawson.
Under this dual assault, Leland Burns’ movements couldn’t be gentle; they were hurried and rough, with the woman beneath him crying incessantly, her face pale.
She tried to escape repeatedly, only to be dragged back by Leland Burns each time, her slender waist encircled by his hands, immobilized.
Her body was sweaty, and her soft flesh easily marked.
In pain, Winifred Dawson cried out, “Garrison Reeves.”
Her voice was broken. Leland Burns heard it, but at that moment, he was too overwhelmed to think, his body and mind seemingly controlled by the person beneath him.
She was like a witch who had cast a spell on him, unstoppable, wanting to possess her, wanting her to be his.
He leaned close to her ear, yelling, “Winifred Dawson.”