Linia Took in a Child - Chapter 3: The Man with Red Eyes (6) (M)

A faint, hollow sensation roused her. Still half-asleep, Linia realized something was off.

When she reached out, the space beside her was empty. She bolted upright, her eyes darting around the room. Ruin was nowhere to be seen.

Her gaze fell on the slightly ajar door, and her heart sank.

“Ruin?”

Grabbing the lamp, Linia stepped out into the corridor. It stretched long and empty before her, the soft carpet muffling her footsteps in the otherwise silent house.

“Ruin, where are you?” she called softly, her voice echoing faintly in the stillness.

She hurried to the staircase, but Ruin wasn’t there. A thought struck her—perhaps he had gone to the kitchen, hungry. With that in mind, she descended to the first floor and headed toward the west wing.

The corridor leading to the kitchen was cloaked in darkness, the lamp’s glow barely illuminating her path.

“Ruin? If you can hear me, answer me,” she said again, her voice trembling slightly.

Only the sound of rain filled the emptiness around her.

When she reached the end of the hallway and turned the corner, a towering figure suddenly appeared in the flickering light.

Before she could react, a strong hand clamped over her mouth.

The lamp slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor. Oil spilled across the surface, briefly catching fire before sputtering out into darkness.

The cold wall pressed against her back, sending a chill through her body. Her wide, terrified eyes rose to meet the man before her.

Her fears had come true. He had been searching for her all along—and now, he had found her.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” the man asked softly, his tone deceptively gentle.

Linia remained frozen, her body stiff with fear.

“Worried because the child’s gone missing?”

As he observed her stiffened expression, Edwin slowly removed his hand from her mouth.

It took her a moment to register his words. When she did, she broke free from the fog of terror long enough to stammer out a question.

“Where… where is Ruin? What did you do to him?”

“Who knows?”

Linia struggled to maintain her composure in the face of Edwin’s vague answer. It was clear that he had taken Ruin from the room, and she could guess why.

“This is because you’re angry at me, isn’t it?” she said, her voice trembling as she clutched his arm. “Take it out on me instead. Ruin has nothing to do with this.”

Her desperate expression, on the verge of tears, pleased Edwin. He chose not to answer, hoping she would cling to him even more. He decided that instilling greater fear in her would achieve that.

“Linia,” he said, his voice soft and deliberate, “shall I share a secret with you?”

“…?”

“Earlier today, one of the maids here died, didn’t she?”

Linia’s grip on his arm faltered. Slowly, she released him and tried to take a step back, but her retreat was stopped by the cold, unyielding wall behind her. A chilling sense of dread spread through her mind.

“Do you really think it was a suicide?”

She froze. It was immediately clear what he was implying—he could easily stage Ruin’s death in the same way. At that moment, she instinctively realized that Edwin was the one behind the recent tragedies in the estate.

The calm expression on his face sent a shiver down her spine. The creeping unease boiled over into outright fear, making her fingertips tremble.

“Don’t worry,” he added, as if offering reassurance. “The child is somewhere in this mansion, perfectly safe.”

“Tell me where Ruin is,” Linia demanded, her voice unsteady as she looked up at him. “If you don’t, I’ll tell the investigators everything I know about you.”

Far from being troubled, Edwin chuckled. He tilted his head slightly, as if inviting her to continue.

That reaction only deepened Linia’s dread. She recalled how horrific events had coincided with the days Ruin had gone missing. Could Edwin have intended to kill Ruin, just as he had killed the others? The thought gripped her heart in icy terror.

She clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles turned white. She had thought that complying with Edwin would keep others safe, but now she realized it had all been an illusion.

“Why do you do it?” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear. “Why kill innocent people? How could you do something so cruel?”

“Because I needed to,” he replied lightly, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

His calm, beautiful face showed no trace of remorse. He was someone capable of killing whenever it suited his needs, always wearing that serene expression—just as he was now.

At that moment, Edwin stepped closer to her, closing the distance until only a sliver of space remained between them. He leaned down, his face dangerously close.

“I don’t feel any pleasure when I kill people,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “The only time I feel pleasure is when I’m holding your body.”

Tilting his head slightly, he whispered against her ear, his warm breath grazing her skin, as if to prove he meant every word. Then, his lips brushed lightly along the edge of her ear, trailing down as he spoke in a voice dripping with feigned tenderness.

“So let’s stop talking about these boring things, Linia. Let me hold you again. It’s been too long.”

His breath, now brushing against her cheek, reached her lips. His mouth descended toward hers, but before he could make contact, Linia turned her head away sharply, her trembling hands pushing against his chest.

Edwin blinked in surprise, his crimson eyes studying her face. He had expected her to cower in fear, helpless against him, as she usually did. This defiance was unexpected.

For a moment, a flicker of annoyance passed over his face, but it was fleeting. His expression quickly returned to its usual composed calm. He raised a hand, cupping her chin firmly, ensuring she couldn’t avoid him. His grip was unyielding, locking her in place.

As he tilted his head to close the distance again, his lips forcefully pressed against hers, prying her mouth open with deliberate control.

“Mmph!”

Linia bit down hard on his lower lip. The sharp pain forced Edwin to step back slightly, his expression unreadable. He raised a hand to his lip, wiping away the sting with the back of his hand, only to see a streak of blood smeared across it.

“…So, you’re finally done with this game,” he murmured.

His crimson eyes, momentarily lowered, lifted again to meet hers. She stood firm, staring back at him with a mixture of defiance and revulsion, her eyes narrowed as if looking at something monstrous.

“Up until now, you’ve been able to control me through threats,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension radiating from her body. “But not anymore. I won’t obey you anymore.”

Linia’s words were firm, even though her trembling hands betrayed her fear. It wasn’t that she wasn’t afraid—she was terrified—but she could no longer allow herself to be paralyzed by it.

He had repeatedly used the lives of those around her to manipulate her, and she knew that if she didn’t stand up to him, the cycle of fear and submission would never end. Even if it meant risking her life, she had to break free of this nightmare.

“I’d rather die than let myself be embraced by a murderer.”

His crimson eyes, cold and heavy with suppressed anger, bore into her. The defiance in Linia’s words clearly didn’t sit well with him.

Before she could react further, his large hand shot out, wrapping around her slender neck. For a fleeting moment, Linia thought this was the end—that he would kill her right there.

But before any pressure was applied, Edwin lowered his head abruptly, capturing her lips with his own.

Linia twisted her head in a desperate attempt to break free, but it was futile. The more she resisted, the more forcefully he pressed against her lips, leaving no room for escape. His other hand moved from her neck to the back of her head, gripping her hair firmly to hold her in place. The strength in his hand left her unable to turn away, even slightly.

He kissed her with an intensity that was more ravenous than affectionate, his lips and tongue invading her mouth relentlessly. Linia shoved at his chest with both hands, trying to push him away, but her resistance was quickly thwarted.

His hand captured hers mid-push, his palm radiating warmth as it enveloped her smaller hands. His long fingers threaded through hers, locking them together tightly in a gesture that was equal parts possessive and unyielding.

He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a way that left no room for protest. The metallic tang of blood faintly filled her mouth, mingling with the warmth of their joined lips.

The faint clink of teeth colliding punctuated the oppressive intimacy, while the storm outside raged on, the pounding rain and roaring winds muffled by the louder, invasive sounds of their kiss.

A soft, muffled gasp escaped her lips as he continued, unrelenting.

“Haa… hnn…”

Linia could barely catch her breath, her lungs struggling to fill with air as she relied on the faint exchanges of his breath to stay conscious. Her legs trembled, threatening to give way, but the wall supporting her back kept her from collapsing entirely.

When his lips finally loosened their relentless grip on hers, leaving her lower lip tingling and swollen, Linia seized the opportunity to pull away.

She turned her head sharply, breaking the kiss as she gasped for air. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to steady her frantic breathing.

But her reprieve was short-lived. The warm hand that had been wrapped around her neck now slid slowly down her body, leaving a trail of heat as it moved. It lingered at her waist before continuing downward.

As he began lifting her skirt, his intent clear, Linia’s body tensed in panic. She thrashed against him, her hands shoving at his chest, her body twisting to escape his grasp.

“…Mmph!”

Edwin released her hands only to clamp his over her mouth, stifling the scream she was about to let out. Ignoring her frantic resistance, he pressed her firmly against the wall, leaning in close to whisper something into her ear.

The moment the whispered words left his lips, Linia froze.

He removed his hand from her mouth, fully expecting her to remain silent. Sure enough, she made no attempt to cry out, her lips pressed together tightly in suppressed fear. Just one mention of Ruin, and she was rendered utterly compliant.

A brief, mocking kiss grazed her trembling lips before his hand slid downward. He moved between her legs, yanking away the last barrier of her undergarments. Even as he stripped her, Linia remained silent, though her body quivered violently with terror.

When his long fingers forced their way inside her, her entire body jerked, trembling harder under his invasive touch.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with false tenderness. “Relax.”

Perhaps because it had been so long since she had been touched, her insides were tight, gripping his fingers with resistance. Edwin began moving them slowly, carefully stretching her, his crimson eyes locked unwaveringly on her face as he did so.

Despite his deliberate gentleness, her expression remained one of discomfort and desperation, as if all she wanted was to escape the situation. That expression gnawed at him, an irritation bubbling up beneath his calm facade.

She could smile so sweetly at that man, blushing shyly over a handful of flowers, acting as if her heart could be swayed by something so trivial. And yet here she was, stiff and unyielding, even as he—the one keeping her alive—tended to her so intimately.

Why won’t she ever smile for me?

A bitter smile played at the corner of Edwin’s lips. She despises me for killing, yet doesn’t understand why I do it—or for whom.

She of all people had no right to condemn him as a murderer. She owed her very life to the sacrifices he made, sacrifices that stained his hands with blood. But he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud. If she learned the truth, she would undoubtedly choose death over survival bought at the cost of innocent lives.

Edwin knew her well enough to understand that. It was one of the things that both fascinated and infuriated him about her.

The frustration gnawed at him, but it only fanned the heat building in his lower body. The tension there had become unbearable, his arousal pressing painfully against the constraints of his clothing.

With a sharp intake of breath, Edwin slid his hand under her left thigh, lifting her leg to a more stable position. His other hand guided his hardened length, pressing it against her entrance, already slick with her fluids.

As he began to push in, her body tensed, a soft, reluctant sound escaping her lips.

“Ugh….”

As the head of his length pushed inside, she let out a soft whimper, her body already straining to accommodate him. Edwin, however, could feel the subtle difference—her walls, though tight, were more yielding than before, clinging to him as if welcoming his intrusion.

The heat of her inner walls enveloped him entirely as he fully seated himself, her body stretching to take him in. For a brief moment, she paused, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as she tried to adjust.

But Edwin didn’t allow her much reprieve.

“Ah…!”

Her startled cry filled the air as he suddenly lifted her other leg, hooking it around his arm. Both her legs were now suspended in the air, her body tilted slightly upward, and her line of sight shifted as her balance shifted precariously.

Instinctively, Linia’s hands flew to his shoulders, clinging to him for support.

“Hold onto me.”

Edwin’s deep, low voice resonated in her ears, dripping with heat and dominance. Without pause, he pulled back only to thrust deeper than before, his movements unyielding and deliberate. The sudden force pushed Linia to cling tightly to him, her arms circling his neck instinctively as if it were her lifeline.

“Ah! Ah… ugh—!”

She bit her lip, trying to stifle the sounds spilling from her mouth, but it was a futile effort. The relentless rhythm of his thrusts drove sharp cries and gasps from her throat, each one betraying her attempts to hold them back.

Each plunge of his thick, rigid length pressed against her innermost walls, filling her completely and stretching her to her limit. The overwhelming fullness left her breathless, teetering between discomfort and a maddening sensation of pleasure.

Her legs, dangling in midair, trembled uncontrollably, the tension building in her body evident. Edwin, however, seemed utterly unrelenting, his focus razor-sharp.

Pushing her fragile frame further against the wall, he shifted his grip, his large hands cupping her hips as he lifted her slightly. With each downward motion, he impaled her more deeply, hitting spots that sent shivers racing through her body.

A guttural cry escaped her lips as the depth and intensity overwhelmed her senses. The pleasure, sharp and electric, shot up her spine, leaving her head spinning.

“Hah… ah! Please… stop… hic—”

Linia felt as though she was on the verge of losing consciousness. The only thing she could cling to was him—his unyielding embrace, his body holding her suspended in midair. Despite herself, she buried her face against his shoulder, unable to do anything but let her trembling body sway with his relentless movements.

Her vision flickered between black and white, her mind struggling to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Each thrust was more forceful than the last, her body reacting involuntarily, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes before trailing down her flushed cheeks.

“Ugh… ah… hnn,” she whimpered, her voice breaking with a mix of sobs and breathless moans.

Hearing her shaky cries, Edwin felt a surge of heat coil tightly in his abdomen, his own arousal becoming almost unbearable. He pulled her closer, her fragile frame trembling against his chest as he shifted his grip. His hands slid beneath her thighs, smoothing over her soft, quivering skin, coaxing her to wrap her legs securely around his waist.

He continued his unrelenting rhythm, each powerful thrust sending shocks of pleasure reverberating through both their bodies. With every movement, her inner walls clung desperately to him, their slick friction creating an obscene squelching noise. White froth began to seep from the tight space where their bodies were joined, a stark contrast against the heat of their movements.

“Hah… feel that?” Edwin’s voice was deep and rough, laced with pleasure. “Your body’s pulling me in so greedily… do you even realize how much it wants me?”

Edwin thrust deeply, each motion deliberate and precise, eliciting another tight contraction from her walls. The ridged texture of her inner muscles clinging to him was maddeningly vivid, every movement feeding his insatiable desire.

“You wanted it rough like this, didn’t you?” he drawled, his breath warm and heavy. “Is that why you kept saying such spiteful things? To provoke me?”

His voice was teasing, but beneath the surface lay an edge of raw intensity. His crimson gaze stayed locked on her, watching for her reaction.

“Admit it,” he demanded softly, though his tone left no room for argument.

Tears streaming down her flushed cheeks, Linia buried her face in his neck, her trembling arms wrapped tightly around him. Her quiet sobs mingled with the strained moans spilling from her lips as she weakly nodded in response, the motion brushing faintly against his skin.

Her pale face was streaked with tears, her skin burning with a faint blush despite her ashen complexion. Edwin’s lips curled into a predatory smirk as he leaned closer, his tongue darting out to catch the salty trail of her tears sliding down her cheek.

“Don’t push me away,” he murmured against her ear, his earlier harshness replaced by a deceptive gentleness.

The taste of her tears extinguished the remnants of his sadistic teasing. Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her deeply, his tongue slipping past her trembling lips to explore her warmth. Unlike the forceful dominance from earlier, his movements now were almost tender, as though savoring her entirely.

Not that it matters, he thought darkly, his lips brushing hers. You’re never leaving my side.

The thought stirred something primal within him, a possessiveness so absolute it bordered on obsession. She belonged to him in every conceivable way—body, mind, and soul. No one else could ever take her from him, and even if she tried to escape, it was futile.

The invisible tether that bound them was too strong, forged from desperation and dependence. To him, it was unbreakable. She was his, as much as he was hers, and nothing—not time, distance, or anyone else—could sever the bond between them.