The Rewritten Love: A Second Beginning

Chapter 881

In the hotel, Fred laid Mya in his arms gently on the bed. Her pearl hair clip slipped from her hair, tumbling down as

she pulled off her hat and scarf, murmuring, “So hot…”

Suddenly, Mya started unbuttoning her clothes and felt cooler. She said, “Now I’m cold again, I need a blanket…”

“What’s going on, Fred?” Mya asked, sounding a bit worried. “I feel so strange.”

“Do you want this?”

Mya squirmed in Fred’s arms, finding it tough to move away.

“Fred, it tickles. I don’t feel good, what did you do to me? Don’t touch that spot.” Mya pleaded.

“Your first time?” Fred asked.

Mya was whimpering and sniffling, emitting soft moans Splayed out on the bed in a spread-eagle position, Mya

found her legs controlled by someone else, unable to close them however much she tried.

“Do you want me to go in deeper? Right here?” Fred asked.

“Ah! No, Fred, don’t!” Mya said.

As Fred touched the place that was just enough to grasp in his hand, Mya felt herself becoming increasingly

peculiar, even involuntarily moving in sync with his actions.

“Should I stop?” Fred asked.

Fred paused, as if contemplating his next move. Mya immediately felt like something was missing. Restless, she

twisted and turned, yearning for that elusive sensation. She asked, her voice laced with longing, “Fred, that felt so

good, like scratching an itch.”

Fred saw himself achieving some unstated goal. He undid the last piece of clothing adorned with cartoon characters

and said, “Take it off yourself, and I’ll continue to make you feel good, okay?”

“Go ahead, but be gentle,” Mya whispered, blushing as she undid the last of her buttons.

At first, it was pleasurable, but Mya began to flail in pain. Her hands inadvertently added fresh scratch marks to

Fred’s back, already a canvas of old scars. Through the peaks and troughs, her cries morphed from pain to a slow,

mellifluous cadence.

Fast forward to later that evening, Mya’s face buried in the pillow still studded with sweat, her whole body aching

and sore. She felt as if she might die from the ordeal. The sounds from the bathroom and the strewn clothes on the

floor made Mya realize that Fred had done naughty things to her.

Mya quickly wiped away her tears and put on her clothes. She clutched a pile of garments and hurled them from

the hotel’s twentieth floor. Among the items was a pair of deep blue men’s underwear, which ended up hanging on

the balcony below. After her act of quiet rebellion, Mya stuck out her tongue at the bathroom door and stealthily

limped away.

Mya’s driver had called her numerous times. When Mya finally answered the phone, she was both nervous and

scared as she gave an address, waiting for the driver to come and pick her up.

Once inside the car, Mya kept a straight posture, trying not to wince from the pain.

“Mr. Harper has been trying to reach you. You really shouldn’t be away for so long,” the driver cautioned.

“I know,” was all Mya managed to say.

When Mya reached home, Mya’s mother, Grace Dion confronted her, visibly worried. “Mya, don’t ever come home

this late again. Your father would be worried sick about you.”

Afraid that Grace might notice something was amiss, Mya did not dare to pause for a moment and ran straight

upstairs, saying, “Mom, I know it’s late from hanging out with Madelyn today, I won’t do it again.”

Grace looked at Mya, who wasn’t the quickest thinker, and shook her head with acceptance. There was a time when

Mya had been sick with a high fever, which delayed treatment and caused permanent damage to her brain, making

her a bit slow. Because of that, Mya was easily fooled by men.

Hurrying back to her room, Mya felt discomfort down below. She rushed to the bathroom to change her underwear,

noticing blood. Biting her lip nervously, Mya thought, ‘Am I going to die? It’s bleeding. I remember hearing that it’s

normal to bleed the first time. It should be fine, right?’

Still anxious, Mya quickly washed the underwear and hung it to dry in the wardrobe, tucking it in the corner,

desperately hoping it would go unnoticed.

Days later, Mya felt under the weather. She found herself feeling queasy and unusually tired. She looked at her

calendar and realized her period was overdue.

‘Am I pregnant? What should I do?’ Mya thought to herself. She was so anxious she was on the verge of tears. She

touched her lower abdomen, which seemed much larger than usual, with a hard spot that was sore when pressed.

Mya was almost at a loss for what to do. Panicked, she called Madelyn for advice.

Meanwhile, the weather today was quite nice-sunny and clear, without a cloud in sight at Southern Haven Villas.

Zach had a flower room constructed in the courtyard. The off-season blooms, all air- freighted from abroad, were

there to entertain Madelyn and to help her pass the time.

Madelyn spent her days either with Dalton or in her studio, rarely coming downstairs except to eat. Zach had put a

lot of thought into this. There were even plant specialists who came regularly to maintain and cultivate the flora.

With Zach holding Madelyn from behind, they looked like a perfect couple as he assisted her with flower arranging.

The passing servants couldn’t help but admire the duo. Surrounded by vibrant flowers, the warm scene made them

resemble a living painting-a couple deeply in love.

Madelyn’s long hair was tied at the end with a purple ribbon, loose strands framing her face. She had a gentle aura,

and her long lashes fluttered slightly, complementing her black knit dress. The flower room was comfortably warm,

basking in sunlight that made everything feel cozy.

Zach seldom had the chance to share in the tranquil activity of flower arranging with Madelyn, but on this occasion,

they worked side by side, carefully pruning away superfluous stems. Engrossed in their task throughout the

morning, they were pleased with the fruitful results of their labor.

A servant interrupted with the phone. “Ma’am, it’s a call from Ms. Harper. She says it’s urgent and needs your

advice.”