Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 742

The good news had him grinning so wide that even the flesh on his cheeks trembled with excitement.

Sandra Taylor, dressed to impress, floated down the staircase. The first thing she spotted in the dining room was the greasy, heavyset man with an oil-slicked face and a gut that strained his designer shirt.

She couldn't quite hide the disgust in her eyes.

But as soon as he glanced her way, she smoothed a sweet smile over her lips, feigning the look of a devoted lover. “Darling, what’s made you so happy this morning?” she asked in a honeyed voice.

Ableson Thompson regarded her, his cloudy eyes sizing her up, shrewd and appraising.

He grinned and ran a chubby hand across his face. “Naturally, it’s because the Smith Group just landed a major contract.”

Sandra’s eyes lit up, and she let out a delighted laugh. “Really? That’s wonderful, darling!”

She hurried over, looping her arms around his neck, gazing up at him with mock adoration. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

The happiness in her voice wasn’t entirely fake.

Because after spending some time with Ableson, Sandra had learned one thing for sure—when this old man was in a good mood, he was generous. Very generous.

Whenever he was pleased, he’d shower her with gifts, money, or both.

Now, with the Smith Group finally nabbing a contract they’d been chasing for ages, he was in such high spirits that today might just be her lucky day.

But just as Sandra’s hopes began to rise, Ableson’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her with a hint of irritation.

“So, tell me,” he said, voice cold, “why are you all dolled up first thing in the morning? Where are you planning to go, dressed like that?”

Sandra slipped seamlessly into her practiced routine of flattery. “Oh, I just wanted to do a little shopping—pick out some pretty clothes to make you happy when you see me…”

Ableson’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No need to go out. I’ve already had some things brought for you. Over there—go take a look.”

Sandra blinked in surprise.

He picked out clothes for her? She glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, a cluster of shopping bags had appeared in the living room at some point.

She forced herself to walk over, mentally running through ideas for the kind of praise that might please him most.

But when she opened the bags, her heart plummeted. Inside was a collection of lingerie so revealing it barely qualified as clothing.

Her face froze in shock.

Oblivious—or pretending to be—Ableson slid up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. His greasy face split into a lascivious grin. “Well, sweetheart? Do you like them?”

Sandra managed a stiff smile, her words hollow. “I… I love them.”

Inside, revulsion crawled up her throat.

She was only with this old man to use him as a stepping stone—a piggy bank and nothing more.

But the more she thought about what she’d endured—the sacrifices she’d made, the humiliation she suffered at the hands of this lecher in the bedroom—the sicker she felt.

Before she could finish her thought, Ableson, who had been grinning a moment ago, suddenly barked an order. “Put one on. Now. Let me see you in it.”

Sandra stiffened.

She had no intention of complying, but pasted on a shy smile. “Darling, it’s the middle of the day… Can’t we wait until tonight?”

Ableson’s expression turned thunderous in an instant.

He bared his teeth. “You want to disobey me? Sandra Taylor, have you forgotten who owns you? I said now, so now it is!”

Before she could protest, he yanked her roughly toward the bedroom.

Sandra’s legs trembled with fear.

Only she knew what this pervert had done to her the night before. There were still red marks from the candle wax on her skin.

Was he out of his mind?

“Please, darling, not like this—” She tried to resist, but Ableson was far too strong for her.

Within minutes, Sandra was dragged into the bedroom, and soon, the air was pierced by the sound of her cries—some laced with pain, some with forced pleasure—echoing through the closed door.