Chapter Benson 27
Chapter 27 Call Me Husband
Benson’s tone carried a subtle, elusive irony that made Yvonne uneasy.
Her hands trembled, causing the water glass to spill, the droplets reflecting her anxious eyes on the polished floor.
“About the disturbance, Yvonne might feel awkward because I’m still trying to win her favor.
Until she agrees, I need to be careful and avoid making her uncomfortable,” Marcus suddenly interjected, his voice light and humorous, trying to ease the sudden tension.
Benson uttered an “Oh” and shifted his gaze from Yvonne to Marcus, a barely noticeable smile playing on his lips. “My little sister……..‘ seemingly searching for the right words.
Yvonne’s heartbeat quickened, and she stared at Benson, uncertain of what he was about to say and the turmoil it might bring.
he paused,
Marcus looked puzzled, turning to Benson with a contused expression, “What?” He tried to discern Benson’s intentions from his expression but found himself more bewildered.
Benson chuckled softly, his voice tinged with mockery. “My little sister, so hard to pursue? His tone conveyed a certain disdain, as if mocking Marcus’s efforts.
Marcus scratched his head, a hint of embarrassment on his face, but quickly regained his confidence, Yvonne is an exceptional woman. I long for her to truly understand me. If possible, I dream of spending my life with her, walking into the hall of marriage together.”
His words were firm, his eyes gleaming with hope for the future.
Benson gave another “Oh?” and turned his gaze back to Yvonne.
With a half–smile, he asked, “Do I need to change my shoes? The question was abrupt and perplexing
Yvonne was momentarily stunned but quickly responded, “No need, just come in.”
Her voice was calm, trying to mask her inner turmoil.
Benson didn’t reply immediately but started examining Yvonne’s house.
The open–concept design merged the kitchen, study, and living room, bold and modern.
The primary white color scheme made the space appear spacious and sophisticated, with every detail reflecting the owner’s unique aesthetic.
“Her taste is indeed exquisite,” Benson’s voice carried a hint of appreciation.
However, Yvonne keenly sensed that beneath this superficial approval lay more complex and profound emotions.
Benson placed the dinner he brought on the floating island connected to the dining table with an effortless elegance.
Marcus, on the other hand, was more attentive, quickly opening the food containers to offer Yvonne something to eat.
But when he saw the food, his brow furrowed involuntarily.
Benson, sitting on a chair by the island, glanced sharply at Marcus, “What’s wrong? Don’t you know she likes spicy food?”
His tone was provocative, questioning Marcus’s understanding of Yvonne.
Marcus looked up, a flash of embarrassment crossing his face, “But her hand is injured. She can’t have spicy and irritating food right now.”
His voice carried a hint of helplessness, clearly concerned about Yvonne’s condition.
Benson didn’t pursue the matter further. He fell silent, his gaze shifting to Yvonne, standing on the other side of the island.
Yvonne kept her eyes down, avoiding his gaze, not speaking, making the atmosphere awloward,
Marcus glanced at his phone and quickly said, “The takeout will be here in five minutes. I’ll wait at the elevator to save time.”
His voice was urgent, eager to resolve the situation quickly.
Yvonne grabbed Marcus, trying to stop him, “I’m not that hungry.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes showed concern.
“It’s okay, you wall here,” Marcus reassured her, then hurried out, leaving Yvonne and Benson alone in the house.
Yvonne turned away, casually asking Benson, “Coffee or cola?” Her voice carried a hint of detachment, trying to break the awkward silence.
Benson raised an eyebrow, got up, and moved close to her back, whispering, “Seeing me, are you that unhappy?” His voice was low, with a teasing undertone
Yvonne’s back tensed, instinctively trying to pull away.
Her heart raced, feeling Benson’s warmth and breath, anaking her uneasy.
“Scared?” Benson’s voice was playful, his hand wandering improperly around her waist.
“Am I scared, or are you crazy?” Yvonne snapped, angered by his roaming hand.
She tried to stay calm, but her inner fury was igniting.
“Speaking so softly, afraid Marcus might hear?” Benson taunted.
Yvonne was indeed afraid Marcus would hear. She didn’t want to hurt him this way! Her voice was low, carrying a hint of pleading-
“On the phone, you said you owed me and would do anything. Now you’re reacting like this when I just hug you. You’re not sincere,” he murmured against her neck, his words tinged with displeasure.
“This is different, Benson. Let me go,” Yvonne’s voice was firm, trying to maintain distance and prevent things from getting more complicated. “Why should I let you go? Before, I ignored you, and you were unhappy. Now that I’m enthusiastic, you don’t like it?” he teased provocatively. His words were laced with a hint of challenge, as if testing her limits,
Now, treating her like a new toy, he didn’t necessarily like her much, just wanted to keep her to himself and not let anyone else touch her. Yvonne could feel his possessiveness, suffocating her.
She was more nervous than ever, fearing Marcus might see something. She felt shame, fearing others would see her distress.
She was filled with conflict and fear.
At this moment, she didn’t dare to confront him, softening her voice, “I like your enthusiasm. Please, let me go, okay?”
Her volee carried a hint of plea, hoping Benson would understand her situation.
Benson laughed, squeezing her soft waist, “You like my enthusiasm, but you’re willing to let me go?” His voice was mocking, as I laughing at her weakness.
Yvonne gasped, feeling he was doing it on purpose.
Her heart raced, feeling his warmth and breath, making her uneasy,
Outside, the elevator dinged, and her scalp tingled. She nearly begged him to let her go.
Her heart was filled with fear, afraid Marcus would return and see this,
But Benson didn’t listen, becoming even more brazen.
His hand roamed her body more boldly, making Yvonne feel humiliated and furious.
Yvonne trembled, “What do you want? Her voice carried a hint of desperation, not knowing what Benson wanted.
“Call me husband, and I’ll let you go….” Benson’s voice carried a threat, his eyes gleaming with a wild light.