Delete My Love for You novel Chapter 99

Darren had never imagined there would come a day when a woman would have him pinned beneath her.

His hands gripped her waist, ready to flip her over and take control.

But suddenly, her towel slipped away… and under the warm light, her bare skin gleamed.

He froze, caught off guard, and in that heartbeat, Charlotte didn’t hesitate. She sank down onto him, her movements decisive.

Darren’s throat tightened.

She was really going through with this...

If it hadn’t been him tonight, would she have let any man do this?

Jaw clenched, he reached up for his mask. He needed her to see—really see—who she was with.

But just as his fingers brushed the edge, her voice came, hoarse and commanding: “No. Don’t. Stay focused. Don’t take it off.”

With a stranger, this was already agony for her. Not seeing his face made it a little easier to bear.

She was done clinging to hope, done letting the last month of her life be ruled by fear and regret. If she could get through this, maybe—just maybe—she could survive. Maybe she could even beat the odds.

Now, she let instinct take over, her body moving against his, chasing relief.

If Darren could keep his wits about him in this moment, he wouldn’t be a man at all.

With a soft click, he switched off the lights, tore off his mask, and rolled her beneath him.

The night was wild. Endless.

When Charlotte woke the next morning, sunlight streamed through the window. She pushed herself up and found her body covered in marks—red and purple blooms scattered across her skin. She frowned in mild irritation.

Why was this man just as rough, just as wild, as Darren?

Still, her limbs felt steadier, her temperature was back to normal. Apparently, this kind of “therapy” did wonders for her body’s chemistry.

She glanced around. The bed was empty. The bathroom, too. So that so-called professional model had just left without taking her payment?

She was civilized, after all. After a shower, she called the club’s manager to settle the bill.

Word traveled fast.

The moment the door closed, anxiety twisted in her gut. She was certain—those marks on his ear were from a woman’s teeth.

But she forced herself to swallow her panic. The wedding was in just two days. In forty-eight hours, she’d become Mrs. Harrington, the most envied woman in Astra’s elite circle. Now wasn’t the time to start a fight with Darren.

She had to endure. Once the wedding was over, she’d find that wretched woman and deal with her herself.

Her footsteps faded down the hallway.

Darren texted a private number to the club manager.

Meanwhile, Charlotte received the contact card.

She immediately followed up: [Sending you a tip for your trouble.]

After hitting send, she glanced at the profile photo—two hands, fingers entwined, one large and one small. Lovers, almost certainly.

She frowned. “This model is married?”

Just then, Herbert’s call came through: “Charlotte, the annual fountain show is happening at Centennial Park today. Want to go?”