Chapter 4 The Harlot

As soon as Alison saw the man in front of her, her face turned bright red. He was completely naked, and she quickly reached for the blanket to cover her eyes.

But he waved his hand dismissively, "Don't bother. You've already seen everything. Stop pretending to be innocent. Now, who are you?" With a swift pull, he yanked the blanket off her, letting it fall lightly to the carpet.

She felt both ashamed and embarrassed, but his gaze left her nowhere to hide. Her small hands fumbled around, desperately trying to find something to cover her exposed body.

She quickly grabbed his pillow and covered herself with it...

But her eyes remained fixed on him in fear, her heart racing, unsure of what he might do next. It seemed like he really didn't know she was waiting in his bed.

He was incredibly handsome, even more so than she had imagined. His thin lips and striking features exuded a noble aura, even without a stitch of clothing.

He bent down, his face slowly approaching hers. Just as he was about to touch her nose, he asked calmly and deeply, "Who exactly are you?"

Her mind was in turmoil. Did he really not recognize her?

If he didn't know, she would rather he never found out, because she didn't want to feel humiliated.

If he didn't know, she would treat this night as a nightmare, and once she woke up, it would all be over.

Her mind was a mess, still not believing that the email had nothing to do with him. But the person had said she had to stay with him for three months.

Three months. In the past, it would have felt like the blink of an eye, but now, it seemed like an eternity.

His cold, icy face made her heart pound with fear.

She didn't speak, and suddenly, he reached out and touched her nose, as if wiping away the blood still trickling from it. Just as she thought he might let her go, his hand suddenly pinched her nose, cutting off her breath, while his other hand gripped her neck...

She felt like she was suffocating, her vision going black. Was this the end for her?

The man's face became increasingly blurry before her eyes.

He was trying to kill her!

But strangely, he didn't cover her mouth.

Did he want her to beg for mercy?

She smiled faintly. At that moment, death and the images in her mind intertwined.

Maybe, instead of enduring the pain, it was better to be free. Even if people called her a coward.

She had to thank him for giving her the courage to do what she had always been afraid to do.

Just die like this. But she couldn't understand why his eyes were filled with such ferocity, mockery, and hatred.

Jack Winston was about to use all his strength, but when she didn't struggle or beg and instead gave him a smile, his hands seemed to be under a spell and loosened their grip.

"Shit!" he cursed under his breath. When he saw his hands, he realized what he had just done.

He had actually let this woman go.

"Emily Bruce, it must be you. What are you doing in my bed again? Trying to be a whore under me?" He looked at the woman on the bed with mockery, but a flicker of desire flashed in his eyes.

Emily Bruce?

Who was she?

Alison's mind went blank, completely confused. She didn't understand what he meant by "again." Had there been another woman named Emily Bruce waiting for him in bed like this before?

She looked at the man in front of her with a bewildered expression, and his eyes suddenly showed a hint of interest. Then, with his long fingers, he gently pulled out the pillow that had been under her, which belonged to him. She clung to the pillow, but she couldn't fight him off.

He was already close to her, whispering in her ear with a deep, mesmerizing voice that made her body tremble uncontrollably. But she knew she couldn't resist him.

It wasn't because of his imposing physique, but because of the unknown sender of the email, who seemed to have anticipated this man's actions.

"You whore, since you've waited for me so long, I'll grant your wish." His voice was magnetic.

He called her a whore.

His handsome face moved closer, and his lips pressed against hers. She had never experienced anything like this and was completely at a loss.

"See, woman, you already have feelings for me." He lifted his head with a smile, looking at her face. "Emily, you're still as cheap as ever, just a slut who knows how to sell herself. Do you want money?"

Alison listened to his insults, her mind in chaos. He mistook her for someone else. Did she really look that much like this Emily Bruce?

Thinking this, fine, she would pretend to be Emily.

That way, if anyone found out later, it would all be Emily's doing, not hers.

The man kept laughing and asked, "Why are you silent?" His words made her panic, fearing what might come next.

"No!" Her hand unknowingly reached for his, mumbling softly.

"No what? Emily, every time you say no, you actually want it badly, don't you?"

She was mortified, closing her eyes, but his touch only intensified her feelings.

"Emily, don't hold back. Scream. I'm in a good mood today, maybe I'll give you more money."

He mentioned money again.

In truth, she was lying next to him just to protect those photos.

She bit her lip, refusing to say anything, convincing herself she was Emily.

"Emily, stop pretending. No one else has the key to this apartment but us. I didn't expect you to have the nerve to come back here."

But he had no idea she wasn't Emily. She was Alison.

Alison kept her eyes tightly shut, not daring to look at him, let alone resist.

She thought about the person who had forced her here. Could it be the Emily he mentioned?

She was filled with hatred, wishing she could kill that person.

It was all their fault, making her endure such humiliation.