Last Born Of The Desdemona

Chapter 227: Chapter 227: Breaking Point

Chapter 227 – Breaking Point

”Curse my life!”

Esmeray cursed as she paced back and forth around her room. She was completely naked, and dripping with arousal, the sound patting the floor continuously, broken only by her ragged breathing.

Esmeray Hood... was at her limit.

She doubted she could survive this night without finding a man — or more precisely, many men — to finally soothe this overwhelming feeling.

It had been weeks. Weeks since she’d let a single man touch her. Weeks of only pleasuring herself, trying as hard as she could not to fall into temptation.

But the gods be damned!

”I can’t do this anymore.” She dropped to her knees, gripping her head tightly, shivering. ”I’m dying. I’m truly dying. I feel like I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating, damn it!”

Her face was flushed red. And it wasn’t only the red of excitement and arousal, but the red of someone gasping for air whose lungs refused to cooperate.

It was always like this.

Whenever Esmeray refused to indulge herself, the curse made it its personal mission to turn her life into a hell where she felt she could die at any moment.

”And as if that weren’t enough, that damn Teacher Jade dared to ask me such a question!” She bellowed, kicking a shelf and shattering it, splinters of wood spraying everywhere.

It was outrageous.

She was already trying to control herself. And that man couldn’t stop touching her body, smiling at her suggestively, asking if she wanted to be his model.

He was an Artist, he said. He liked drawing people, he said.

It was true. He had shown her an example of his work.

But the problem was that Teacher Jade only drew women. Naked women.

Yes, he wanted her to strip herself bare and be his damned model. And he’d gone further, saying the Vice Dean allowed it, as long as consent was given.

What a cursed idiot!

And yet...

”I almost said yes.” Esmeray muttered to herself, breathing heavily. ”When he touched me, I wanted him inside me. When he looked at me with that disgusting smile, I still wanted to press my lips to his. Vorn’s breath! I hated it... but I wanted him! I desired him!”

But Esmeray knew it was the curse talking. She knew it was nothing but a way to soothe her lust.

But the world didn’t care about reasons. And once the lust faded, she’d be left with nothing but immense regret, enough to choke the breath from her.

Like always.

Like every single time she fucked her way through a crowd just to feel normal again. Every cursed time.

In the past, she had chosen to embrace it. To act as if it were nothing. To act as if it were simply her nature.

But not anymore.

She was tired. Tired of being a slave to her own desire. Tired of being unable to stop herself whenever her lust grew.

There was nothing worse than being unable to control one’s own lust.

Because it proved she couldn’t control herself at all... and what became of a being who couldn’t even do that?

Esmeray knew.

She was living proof.

Someone who couldn’t control herself... would eventually destroy herself.

And because of that...because of the fear of becoming nothing but the Princess Whore, because of the fear of losing herself, because... oh damn it, because of her desperate wish to make her family proud...

”Curse my life!” Esmeray bellowed, and grabbed her phone.

...she would call the one person able to pull her out of this unfathomable pit of despair.

Wasn’t that what her brother had said?

If one couldn’t manage something alone, help would make it easier.

Without allowing herself to hesitate, she pressed the call button on Dorian’s number.

Her heart pounded in her chest, so hard she could hear nothing else but its erratic rhythm.

Esmeray didn’t wait long before Dorian picked up, his lazy voice sliding into her ear through the phone.

”Who is this?” He asked.

”...Esmeray.” She whispered, her voice ragged. ”I’m sorry I called so late, but... but I have something to tell you.”

”Esmeray? Tell me what?”

Esmeray Hood took a deep breath, steadying her resolve. ”I know who you are.”

Dorian paused, then, with a dangerous tone, ”Who I am? What does that mean?”

”Let’s stop pretending, Dorian. I’m tired and exhausted, and I’m at my absolute limit. If you don’t help me, I can’t guarantee what will happen to me. I can’t do this alone.”

”I don’t understand. What do you want from me?”

”I know you’re Bliss. And I’m one of your VIPs. And I need you!”

Dead silence.

”...what?” Dorian stuttered, his voice loud with shock.

Esmeray smiled dryly, tears streaking down her cheeks from sheer exhaustion. ”...help me, Dorian. Not as a man. Not as Bliss. Help me as family. Please.”

She took a deep, whimpering breath, hugging her naked body in horrified desperation.

”I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

...

Meanwhile, at the Persephone Building, Klaus wore baggy black trousers with a sleeveless shirt, showing off his toned, muscled arms perfectly.

He stood in front of Love’s room, thinking it was time to share an interesting video with her.

Smiling, he raised his right hand and knocked on the door loudly and impatiently. He kept at it until the door opened on a young woman with rather interesting features, but who reeked of commoner from a mile away.

Klaus cocked his head. ”Who are you? A commoner?”

Diaila’s lips twitched hard, tired of being labelled a commoner by everyone.

”I’m Diaila. And no, I’m not a commoner! I’m Tier Three—!”

”Yeah, whatever, girl. The only Tier Three worth remembering is the Amaris. Now move. Where’s that girl, Love?” He said, stepping into the room and looking at how sorely it lacked compared to his own.

Behind him, Diaila’s jaw clenched tight, anger, humiliation and embarrassment all churning in her heart.

But she said nothing.

She didn’t dare say anything to Klaus.

He was Cassius’s friend. And if there was one being Diaila feared, it was her Palatine.

So she bore the humiliation without a word.

Still...

’Talking as if I chose to be Tier Three... Vorn! I hate them! Why doesn’t anyone attack Julaibib? Why not that clueless fool Omm? They’re from villages!’

Her heart filled with spite. Her eyes went cold with resentment.

But her feelings were things Klaus, let alone Love, couldn’t care less about. They wouldn’t change a thing in the grand scheme of things, after all.

However, there was one thing that could change something.

”What are you doing here?” Love screamed immediately, embarrassed both to be found in a room so unbefitting of herself and to see Klaus.

She deeply hated the sight of this man.

”Why, you ask?” Klaus smiled leisurely. ”I’m only here to show you a video I genuinely liked. I liked it so much I made dozens of copies. I’m even thinking of posting it.”

”Good for you. Now get out of my room.”

”Trust me, I don’t want to stay in this commoner’s dump either.” He scoffed, then took out his phone and showed the screen to Love. ”But wouldn’t you want to take a look at the video.”

Love hadn’t meant to look. But her eyes instinctively landed on the screen, then widened in absolute shock as she saw herself in the bathroom, her face twisted with anger, hatred and disdain.

”W-What?” She said in a daze, staggering.

Klaus’s smile widened. ”Maybe I should bring that commoner, or Tier Three, or whatever she is, in to show her too? I bet she’d—!”

Love’s body blurred as she lunged at him, her eyes bloodshot as she tried to snatch his phone.

But Klaus was blessed by the wind itself. He was faster, swifter.

He dodged her easily, pivoted, and appeared behind her, his smile still fixed in place.

Love snapped her head toward him, growling, breathing hard, shaking with emotions one couldn’t easily name.

”Klaus! Klaus! Klaus!!!!” She gritted her teeth harder and harder with each repetition of his name.

”That’s my name, indeed.” He said. ”And you remember my words, I hope?”

His eyes turned dead cold.

”I’ll give you twenty-four hours, Love.” He leaned in, whispering, not wanting anyone to overhear. ”Twenty-four hours for you to come to me, kneel, and beg for forgiveness. Otherwise, I’ll make sure this video of you, Love de Bayard, the perfect model, the perfect girlfriend, insulting a poor maid, two second-years, and even your own boyfriend...”

He laughed.

”...is seen by everyone. I wonder what would happen to you then. Oh, but let me tell you what would happen, Love: your entire image would be dragged through the mud. And you could kiss your damned modelling career goodbye.”

Love was shaking.

”I don’t need to tell you how much public image matters to beings like you, do I?”

She looked at him, her eyes dilating, her hatred only growing hotter and deeper.

”Klaus...”

”You like my name, don’t you?”

She smiled, murder in her eyes. ”You’ll regret this.”

Klaus mirrored her smile.

”Not as much as you will.”

Without waiting for a response, he shoved her away and walked out of the room.

He passed Diaila again, still standing in the doorway.

He winked at her.

”Goodbye, commoner.”

Diaila blushed despite herself. ’He’s a bastard. But a handsome bastard.’

But that thought was swiftly replaced by terror when she stepped into the room and saw the look on Love’s face.

Diaila almost bolted in horror.

Love turned her head, looked at her, and parted her lips:

”Get out of this room before I kill you.”

Diaila knew.

Love was serious. She would kill her.

Without a second’s hesitation, she spun on her heels and ran, her heart pounding.

Behind her, she heard Love’s vicious, agonised scream.

”Vorn! What is wrong with these guys!!!”

—End of Chapter 227—