Chapter 155: She's the Only Antidote

Evan storms out of the office and orders his driver to take him back to the Howel family's estate, although the drive takes more than 20 minutes typically, Evan insists the driver ran red lights and make illegal turns. He arrives at the house in less than 10 minutes. Robert sits beside Evan and grimaces. He knows his boss often falls into rages, but there seems to be an unusual rashness in his behavior.

"Have someone check the foods today," Evan says to Robert, before leaping out of the car.

Evan runs up the stairs and into the bedroom. As he runs, the maids all call to him and greet him, but he doesn't slow for anything. The maids exchange glances with one another and wonder what's wrong with their boss. When he arrives at the bedroom, he throws the door wide open. Avery is still sleeping in the bed.

He looks at her and feels the passion rise in his blood. He feels like he's been poisoned, and she's the only antidote—he would do anything to make the burning in his body stop. He lifts the quilt and takes her in his arms. The sweet scent of her skin and hair makes him groan low in his throat.

Avery wakes with a gasp. She turns her head towards him, and he immediately claims her lips. He kisses her hard and harshly as if he wants to swallow her. His hands roamed her body, and he rips the fabric on one of her sleeves. Avery comes to her senses and begins to push him away.

"Evan Howel, what's the matter with you?" she asks.

"Let me fuck you," he whispers low and seductive.

Avery says nothing.

"I want to fuck you," he whispers again.

"No, Evan, you can't touch me!" Avery objects.

She pushes him away and jumps out of bed. The floor is cold on her bare feet, but she runs toward the door and jerks it open. He comes up behind her and slams it shut again.

"Why can't I touch you?" Evan asks, recalling Andrew's groans in the video, "Tell me, who is allowed to touch you?"

Avery doesn't answer. Evan presses her against the door, and she can smell the wine on his breath.

"What's the matter with him?" she wonders, "Is he drunk?"

"Tell me," he shouts into her ear, "Who is allowed to touch you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Avery shakes her head, "Are you drunk?"

Evan Howel has mixed feelings. His beloved is standing in front of him and refusing him. He wants to be angry, but the aphrodisiac makes it hard to feel anything but insatiable desire. He feels like he can't control himself. Slowly, he takes a deep breath and tries to control himself.

"Do you refuse my touch out of loyalty to Andrew Clifford?" he asks.

Avery looks at him and thinks he is unreasonable. She has no idea why he's going on about Andrew again.

"Tell me!" he growls, "Am I right?"

"No, you couldn't be more wrong," she says.

"Ok, show me how wrong I am," he whispers, "Let me fuck you."

He tears the fabric at her neckline, revealing her white skin and plump breasts. Her skin seems to send him into a frenzy, and he feels his desire becoming unbearable. She looks more attractive than she ever has before, and every cell in his body urges him to fuck her as hard as he can. Afraid that he'll hurt her, he tries to take deep breaths.

"Why do you hate me?" he asks bitterly, his voice low and ragged.

"I never say I hate you," she whispers.

"So, why do you refuse to let me touch you?" he asks.

Avery bites her lip hard. She doesn't know how to answer his question, and she tries to avoid his intense gaze.

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"What's the matter?" Evan asked, his voice wretched, and his smile cold and self-mocking, "You don't know how to make up a convincing story? You're struggling to decide on which lie to tell?"

Avery takes a deep breath and summons her courage.

"Evan Howel, you can't touch me because I'm pregnant."

"You're pregnant?" Evan asks, shocked, "Yesterday, you insisted you weren't pregnant, but suddenly you're pregnant now?"

"I'm serious," she whispers gently. 

"Who's the baby's father: Andrew Clifford or me?" he asks bitterly.

Avery keeps silent. She can't believe that Evan doesn't trust her. She wonders why he keeps asking about Andrew.

"Can't you answer the question?" Evan hisses, "Don't you know who the baby's father is?"

"Evan Howel!" Avery says as calmly as possible, "What are you talking about? Of course, you're the father."

"Why did you lie to me yesterday then?" he demands, "I asked you multiple times if you were pregnant, and you insisted that you weren't."

She stares at him helplessly.

"How can I tell him about the new toxin in my body?" she wonders, "How can I tell him that I'll probably die as soon as I give birth to this child. Even if I tell him about the toxin, I have no way to prove it. Do I expect him to believe me after all this?"

"It's too late," Evan says coldly, "It doesn't matter what you say—I won't believe it."

He hates deception and betrayal the most, and he's made it clear to her that he can't stand those two things. Yet time and time again, she challenged him and lied to him and betrayed him. In a fit of anger, he rips his shirt, revealing his strong chest.

Avery suddenly feels a sharp pain in her chest. She is so frightened and afraid that he will fuck her forcefully. Standing there in his ripped clothes, he looks like the fiercest predator.

"I should have just had the abortion," she thinks, "If I let him fuck me now, I may even lose this baby. Why do I want to refuse, though? Maybe if I agree to have the baby, he'll believe that it's his child and not Andrew's, but why am I so worried about proving that to him?"

Avery shakes her head to clear her thoughts. She knows she needs to leave the room before Evan completely loses control. He continues to tear at his clothes—as crazed as a rabid dog. She pushes him away and runs out of the room, almost slamming into Robert.

"Mrs. Howel," he gasps.

Avery looks down at her exposed breast and quickly pulls the torn fabric of her shirt to cover it. With her other hand, she grips the stairway railing. Her face is flushed a bright pink.

"Mr. Howel is inside," she tells Robert, "There's something wrong with him. You need to look after him."

"It seems that Mr. Howel ingested a medical-grade aphrodisiac," Robert says.

"Call Dr. Walters at once," Avery says, gripping the railing more tightly.

Robert closed his eyes momentarily. He wishes Mrs. Howel would just help her husband instead of dragging him into it, but he nods his orders to the bodyguards. Avery glances back at the door to Evan's bedroom; she can feel his frustration through the thick wood.

"Please take good care of Mr. Howel," Avery says.

She runs to her bedroom and quickly locks the door behind her. She gasps when she sees Leonie sitting at the makeup table. Leonie holds a cotton ball in her hand and rubs it gently against one of her toes.

"Why the hell are you here?" Avery asks.

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