Suffering In His Hand

Vincent Roberts arrived home just as I had hung up the phone.

Seconds later, there was a gentle knock at the door.

It was the housekeeper, Janice Simpson.

She said, "Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Robert is home."

Coming back to my senses, I stood up, wiped the tears from my face, and said, "Thank you."

As I was about to leave the room, she abruptly said, "Mrs. Roberts, Mr. Robert has..."

She stopped mid-sentence and offered me a sympathetic look.

I smiled at her but averted my eyes.

As expected, I heard a woman's unabashed, charming laughter when I opened the door of Vincent's room.

Based on the sounds they were making, I could tell that they were having sex.

Standing at the door, I observed the scattered clothes on the floor.

Some of the clothes belonged to Vincent, as he favored wearing suits to display his affluence and authority.

The rest of the clothes were a one-piece dress and black lace underwear, which exuded a seductive aura.

Vincent had a penchant for attractive, alluring women who could easily captivate men's attention.

Unfortunately, he found me uninteresting and lackluster, as I had nothing to offer apart from having a wealthy father- which at the time was not the case.

I quietly closed the door and waited outside the room. Two hours later, the sounds ceased, signaling the end of their romance.

Swiftly, I straightened my attire, approached the door, and gently knocked on the door.

Vincent's lazy voice said, "Come in."

I could sense that he was in high spirits.

As long as he didn't lay eyes on me, his mood remained pleasant.

However, I had to disrupt his joyous moment by entering the room.