Pressing Love

If the world were to end, I wish

The person standing with me at the end of life

Would still be you.

— Epigraph

When Evelyn Wrenshaw emerged from the makeup room, Sebastian Grant thought she looked absolutely stunning. It was hard to believe that this assistant, who usually wore nothing but shirts and jeans, could transform so elegantly, rivaling any socialite in beauty.

The stylist, Olivia Clarke, had elegantly pinned up Evelyn’s shoulder-length black hair with a diamond-studded hair clip. Her usual black-framed glasses were gone, replaced by this year’s trendy nude makeup. A pearl necklace adorned her neck, shining with full, round luster under the lights. Her off-shoulder grey-blue evening gown, lined with lace and covered with dreamlike tulle, made her look ethereal and radiant.

Catching Sebastian’s unwavering gaze, Evelyn instinctively touched her hair and fiddled with the bow at her chest, smiling awkwardly, “Hey, do I look strange in this?”

Olivia, standing nearby, disagreed, feigning annoyance, “Strange? You look gorgeous, right, Sebastian?”

Brought back to reality by her, Sebastian smiled, “You look beautiful. I think every man here tonight will envy me for having such a charming companion.”

Hearing this, Evelyn blushed slightly, lowering her head shyly.

Olivia and Sebastian were old acquaintances and spoke casually. Olivia gently pushed Evelyn towards him, smiling, “There you go, Mr. Designer. I’ve completed your task perfectly. Remember, you owe me one.”

“Alright, when have I ever shortchanged you, Olivia?” Sebastian replied, half amused, half annoyed. He then turned to Evelyn, leaning on his cane, “Let’s go, the banquet is about to start.”

Evelyn nodded and linked her arm with his, more in support than affection, as Sebastian’s left leg was disabled. Yet he walked steadily, showing no sign of his impairment. As they walked away, Megan, the assistant, whispered to Olivia, “Ms. Clarke, Mr. Grant is even more handsome than in the magazines, it’s just a pity about his leg...” but she was silenced by a stern look from Olivia.

At the famous five-star hotel in the capital, a red carpet stretched from the lobby to the banquet hall, bustling with guests and never-ending camera flashes. Evelyn, inexperienced with such grand events, felt nervous and somewhat regretted accepting Sebastian’s invitation.

Sebastian led her skillfully away from the cameras, caring for her feelings, “Don’t be nervous. This is just my parents’ wedding anniversary. Being casual is fine. And if you really enter this line of work, socializing is inevitable. Consider this a preview of entering society.”

Evelyn glanced at him and said cautiously, “I just don’t want to embarrass you.”

“Don’t worry, just smile and leave the rest to me,” Sebastian whispered, looking down at her, “Besides, I can’t stand for long with this leg. We’ll leave after the banquet starts.”

“Really?” Evelyn’s eyes widened in relief and she smiled, a gesture that to others looked like an intimate exchange between lovers.

Sebastian, who had been abroad from a young age and faced many upheavals, was almost a stranger in these circles. He directly led Evelyn to his mother, Elizabeth Grant. Evelyn had met Sebastian’s parents before and found them amiable and easy to get along with. Elizabeth warmly took Evelyn’s hand and inquired about her wellbeing, which Evelyn answered graciously. Sebastian smiled and asked, “Mom, where’s dad?”

Clara smiled, “Over there. Why don’t you take Evelyn and show your face?”

Evelyn followed Elizabeth’s direction and saw Sebastian’s father, James Grant, conversing under the brilliant chandeliers. But it was the tall, young man with his back to them that strangely resonated with Evelyn, sending a shiver through her heart.

As James noticed them, he said something and the man turned around. His eyes, deep and dark, froze for a moment when they met Evelyn’s. The sight of her hand linked with Sebastian’s seemed to surprise him, his gaze sharpening momentarily with a barely perceptible astonishment. It was Dominic Morrison.

This unexpected encounter left Evelyn unprepared. What reaction would be appropriate now?

Evelyn Wrenshaw’s arm, looped through Sebastian Grant’s, unconsciously began to slip. The scar hidden beneath her white glove reminded her not to forget the past. The bustling noise around her faded into oblivion; all she could see was the man before her, Dominic Morrison. He had once, irresistibly, offered her the world, only to ruthlessly shatter it himself.

Sebastian noticed Evelyn’s distress and asked with concern, “Evelyn? What’s wrong, are you not feeling well?”

Evelyn took a deep breath, quickly regaining her composure, and shook her head, “No, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Life had a way of bringing past adversaries back on one’s path. She couldn’t avoid confrontation if she ever hoped to heal. Resolutely, she took Sebastian’s arm again and walked toward them, her high heels clicking assertively on the marble floor.

James Grant was laughing heartily about something. As they approached, he introduced Dominic, “This is my son, Sebastian, just returned from abroad like you. Perhaps you two can find some time to discuss potential collaborations. The future belongs to the young.”

Dominic responded with a practiced humility, extending his hand to Sebastian with a flawless smile, “Pleased to meet you.” However, his gaze flickered over Evelyn’s face, quickly hiding any recognition, as if she were a stranger to him.

Sebastian, too, reached out, replying courteously, “I’ve heard much about you.”

Just as Evelyn was about to step forward and greet James, she stumbled, her heel catching her gown’s hem. Sebastian, hindered by his disability, couldn’t help, but a swift hand steadied her. She thanked the person, only to hear a familiar voice say softly, “You’re welcome.”

His warm palm gripped her arm briefly before releasing it gentlemanly. But that brief contact left a scorching heat in Evelyn, unsettling her. As she looked up, their eyes met again. Dominic’s smile was faint, yet there was an icy severity in his eyes, reminiscent of the calm before a storm. His deeper the smile, the angrier he was.

Evelyn clutched Sebastian’s sleeve as if it could give her strength. Sebastian, mistaking her discomfort for awkwardness, reassured her, “It’s alright, we’ll leave soon after the banquet starts.”

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Sebastian excused themselves. Despite leaving, Evelyn’s heart continued to race. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that Dominic’s gaze held a deeper meaning. They had broken up long ago, and she had heard of his engagement. Why would he bother with her now?

With these thoughts, she gradually calmed herself. Yet, being in the same vicinity as Dominic made every second feel like an eternity.

Not long after the banquet started, Sebastian and Evelyn left the venue. He was concerned about her pale complexion, “I’ll have Marcus drive you home.”

Evelyn declined, “I’m just not used to such occasions. Let me accompany you upstairs first. You’ve had quite a bit to drink, and I don’t want you to have an accident.”

Her concern brought a smile to Sebastian’s face. He playfully ruffled her hair, “I should thank Charlotte for introducing me to such a competent assistant.”

Evelyn smiled, masking her unease, “How could I earn your salary otherwise?”

After helping Sebastian with his prosthetic and ensuring his comfort in the suite, her own appearance was disheveled, her carefully styled hair now loose and messy. She casually tidied it and told him, “Rest well, I’ll head back now.”

Sebastian reminded her as she left, “Marcus is waiting downstairs. Make sure he drives you to your dorm. Be safe.”

Nodding, Evelyn departed.

The top floor was quiet and deserted. Even in her heels, her steps were silent on the plush carpet. Suddenly, a door beside her opened abruptly. A shadow pulled her in, and the door shut quickly.

“Dominic Morrison,” Evelyn gasped in disbelief and fear. She hadn’t said that name in over a year, thinking it forgotten, yet it was etched deep in her heart, as vivid as ever.

Her struggle only fueled Dominic’s anger. Seeing her intimately linked with another man had driven him past the brink of reason. She belonged to him, and the mere thought of another man touching her was maddening.

At that moment, Dominic Morrison was like an enraged beast, holding Evelyn Wrenshaw tightly in his arms, easily overpowering her struggles. His kisses fell on her ears, face, and lips like a fierce storm, disregarding her willingness, ravaging her as he pleased.

Dominic’s breath, tainted with alcohol, mingled with her unique scent, intoxicating the air around them. After several minutes of entanglement, he exhaled deeply, unsatisfied, and began to tear at the straps of her gown, leaving a trail of biting and kissing marks on her pale skin, as if marking his territory.

“Let me go, let me go...” Evelyn sobbed, terrified by his roughness, trembling as she pleaded, “Dominic, you can’t do this to me, we’ve already broken up...”

Dominic paused, chuckling as if he’d heard a joke, pressing his lips against hers, “I thought it was something serious. Divorce can lead to remarriage, what’s a breakup? We can just get back together. Don’t you agree, Evelyn?”

“No, I don’t want to... Mmm...” Before Evelyn could protest, Dominic forced his way into her mouth, kissing and biting her fiercely, leaving her almost breathless. His hands, even through her gown, began to knead her breasts relentlessly.

The more Evelyn tried to wriggle away, the harder he held her. In desperation, she screamed, “No, I’m with Sebastian Grant now, I was just in bed with him, doesn’t that disgust you?”

Knowing Dominic’s ego and chauvinism, she hoped this lie would repel him. However, instead of letting her go as she’d hoped, it only fueled his anger further.

“Evelyn Wrenshaw!” He only used her full name when furious. His eyes, dark as obsidian under the dim light, glinted menacingly, “Very well, you’ve made your point!” He gripped her chin more forcefully, his hand around her waist tightened, and he carried her to the bedroom, throwing her onto the lavish double bed.

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room as her gown, light as mist, tore apart in his hands, becoming an accomplice in his restraint. He loomed over her, his gaze sinister, “Let’s see then, who can satisfy you more! A crippled man, how could he even compare to me, Dominic Morrison, in winning a woman?”

Dominic lost the last bit of tenderness in his eyes, menacingly advancing on her delicate body. Suddenly, he bit her shoulder fiercely, drawing blood, as if to punish her impudence.

Evelyn jolted in pain, crying out, “Get off! It hurts, it really hurts!” In the past, whenever she said it hurt, Dominic would stop and coax her tenderly.

But now, consumed by jealousy, he showed no mercy, continuing his assault with his tongue and teeth. He kissed and questioned, “Where did he look? Where did he touch? Here? Or here?” Every question marked her with his presence, asserting his ownership.

“No! No!” His alternation between gentle tickles and harsh bites drove Evelyn to the brink of collapse, until she couldn’t bear it anymore and pleaded, “Please, stop, don’t do this...”

As his hand moved to her most intimate area, caressing her tenderly yet provocatively, her body responded like a bud about to bloom, irresistible to him.

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, softening as he gazed into her tearful eyes, reflecting his handsome face. He kissed her affectionately, whispering, “Evelyn... when did you learn to lie? This place only remembers me, right?”

Her body’s responses were all taught by him, and only he had left marks on her. This was evident enough.

Evelyn gave up struggling, letting him hold and kiss her wildly, her gaze blankly fixed on the ceiling. After a while, she spoke numbly, “Dominic Morrison, Evelyn is already dead. She died a year ago, killed by your slap.”