Mr. CEO's Substitute Bride
Chapter 168 - 164. A tipsy woman, like an aphrodisiac

Chapter 168: 164. A tipsy woman, like an aphrodisiac

Nathan Moore’s heart tightened, and then he saw her lower her eyes and continue, "Really, all these years, I haven’t been able to move on."

Olivia Zane’s full lips slightly pursed, her drooping eyelashes trembling intensely.

She had firmly resolved to forget, but those unbearable memories still haunted her, unable to let go.

Nathan Moore furrowed his brows, his grip on the wine glass unconsciously tightened, his lips slightly parted, about to say "I’m sorry," when Olivia Zane spoke again, her fragmented voice burrowing into his ears like a whisper, unavoidable.

"I now suffer from a phobia of men, regardless of their age, I feel an irrational fear whenever they get too close to me."

Upon saying this, Olivia Zane took a drag of her cigarette, as if trying to suppress that inexplicable fear inside her heart, as the saying goes, "the caster of the bell must unring it"; perhaps by revealing her internal turmoil to Nathan Moore, things might gradually improve, and she would no longer fear the approach of men.

Looking at Olivia Zane’s profile, at this moment, Nathan Moore found himself at a loss for words to comfort her, everything was because of him, although she also had inescapable responsibilities, but his actions at the time seemed... too extreme.

They could have lived in harmony, but he chose the most cruel and despicable means.

Remembering how he ruthlessly vented his anger on her on the bed three years ago, he occasionally regretted it.

If back then, he hadn’t let go, hadn’t agreed to her proposition, would they now... possibly have a baby of their own?

He remembers when she was drunk, she clung to him murmuring, "...Nathan, let’s live a good life, have a baby, and live well with Lily..."

Nathan Moore never considered himself to be impetuous when the responsibility of the family fell on his shoulders after his parents died, he knew he no longer had the luxury of youthful impulse.

He had to mature earlier than his peers, suppressing his youthful restlessness... thus, when he saw Olivia Zane’s carefree smile, he was moved, secretly swearing in his heart to make her smile carefree for a lifetime.

But contrary to his wishes, if not for that accident at the wedding, he and Olivia Zane would still be as they originally were.

But time changes everything, nothing remains the same.

Looking down at the red liquid in the stemmed glass, Nathan Moore sank into deep self-blame, just then he saw Olivia Zane lift her head, facing forward, the corners of her full lips lifting as she continued.

"I have sought out many men before."

Nathan Moore suddenly looked up, a flash of sternness passing through his dark eyes.

Olivia Zane took a puff of her cigarette, exhaling, and took another sip of red wine.

"Blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigners, Asians, I even tried dating black men."

Olivia Zane turned to look at Nathan Moore, her smiling eyes carrying emotions Nathan Moore couldn’t comprehend.

Nathan Moore’s face wasn’t looking good, gloomy as a cloud covering the sun, devoid of any bright sunshine, only the low atmospheric pressure that made it hard to breathe.

But Olivia Zane wasn’t afraid, not in the slightest.

She didn’t know why, but three years ago she was very afraid of him, yet now, she liked sharing her thoughts with him.

Perhaps it really is because the caster of the bell must unring it.

She herself couldn’t figure it out.

Meeting Nathan Moore’s brooding eyes, Titus Zane curved her lips, took another drag of her cigarette, and continued talking.

"But no matter how close I get to any man, I can’t take that final step. There was one time, at the most critical moment, I even threw up all over that man."

Nathan Moore’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wine glass involuntarily tightened at Titus Zane’s mention of "the most critical moment."

Nathan Moore could even imagine the scene; in a hotel bed, a man and woman entwined together, the atmosphere luxurious and suggestive, the man’s lips reverently exploring the woman’s body, and his hands snaking over her...

Just as the woman softly moans, the man grabs one of her long legs and props it onto his muscular waist about to sink down when suddenly he’s pushed away by the woman beneath him, and even... throws up on him...

The glint in his obsidian eyes tightened, emitting a dangerous light.

The hand holding the wine glass tightened further, his knuckles turning white. If it wasn’t for the glass’s quality, it probably would have shattered in his grip.

If Nathan Moore were to encounter that man, he would feel the impulse to grind him into dust.

A presumptuous man, daring to covet his woman, is truly seeking death!

However, Nathan Moore was also secretly relieved, glad that Titus Zane feared all men—except, of course, him. If she feared him, she wouldn’t confide in him, and if she were frightened, she wouldn’t lean her head on his shoulder for support.

Getting emotional, Titus Zane simply leaned over and rested her head on Nathan Moore’s shoulder, the wine glass spinning in her grasp, the cigarette between her fingers continuously drawn on, occasionally sipping red wine, like a dreamy, fallen drunkard.

But Nathan Moore didn’t mind at all, even his heart under the T-shirt thrumming non-stop, unsure whether it was from excitement or nervousness.

Raising his arm, his well-defined fingers reached for the cigarette between Titus Zane’s fingers, his brows deeply furrowed, yet his expression was soft.

"Stop smoking, it’s bad for your health."

With no cigarette to relieve her stress, Titus Zane grabbed the red wine to drown her sorrows, gulping down half a glass in one tilt of the head. Nathan Moore didn’t stop her, just silently watched her, even helping to pour a full glass when she unsteadily grabbed the bottle.

Titus Zane grabbed the wine glass, tilted her head back, and once again drank it dry, burping ungracefully, mumbling, "Nathan Moore, you’ve ruined me, you know..."

"I’m sorry." He pulled Titus Zane’s slightly swaying body into his arms, pressing a kiss on the crown of her head, lingering for a long time before pulling away.

Only when Titus Zane struggled discontentedly, mumbling unclearly, "Are you trying to strangle me?" did he reluctantly let go, though his strong arms still firmly encircled her, fearing she might fall off the high stool.

Titus Zane drank a lot, continuously sipping on red wine while rambling non-stop, repeating the same few sentences, "Nathan Moore, you’ve ruined me... I now have a phobia of men..."

While rambling, she also kept giggling, slumping unsteadily in Nathan Moore’s embrace.

They say beautiful women are like wine, but Nathan Moore thought, a drunk woman is even more enchanting.

Just like the woman drunk in his arms, her face peach-like, her eyes hazy, her small upturned nose, and those plump lips, exuding an enticing luster, looking like cherries waiting to be plucked, juicy and ravishing.

Watching the woman’s tipsily bewitching appearance, Nathan Moore felt a stir inside him, his Adam’s apple moving unconsciously as he lowered his gaze, darkened eyes, lowering his handsome face close to her radiant, peach-like face.

An overwhelming heat surged, and instinctively, Titus Zane pouted in protest, "Stay away from me, it’s too hot..."

Her unintentional words, like an aphrodisiac, made Nathan Moore’s eyes tighten, and without hesitating, he pressed his face closer.

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