Time seemed to lose its meaning as they lay entangled, their clothes in disarray beneath the bed.

Tears glistened in Cecilia's eyes as she felt a hint of sobriety mixed with a daze. Her slender fingers gently caressed Mark's handsome features, and she whispered hoarsely, “Mark, no one can bully me.”

In her heart, he was the only one, from beginning to end!

She cried like a little girl, her heart torn between wanting him close and feeling wronged.

Mark gently brushed his slender fingers against her glamorous face, trying to comfort her.

"Don't cry, Cecilia. Don't cry,” he coaxed in a low voice, his own emotions swirling within.

He struggled with his feelings, torn between staying with her and the knowledge that it would be difficult for him to walk away.

However, the moment she called him "Mark," everything changed.

It was a name she seldom used, and when she had referred to him as "Uncle Mark" before, it excited and thrilled him. ©

But now, hearing her call him by his name, he felt the weight of their history together—a history that involved a woman who bore his child.

Mark claimed her tenderly, their bodies seeking solace in each other.

Her tears were not of physical pain but of sorrow and longing.

Under the cover of night, he indulged himself in this tender moment of passion.

Maybe it was because she couldn't help calling him ‘Uncle Mark’ later that he couldn't suppress his lust at all. They surrendered to their dormant love and affection, their passion reignited like gasoline meeting a flame—irresistible and unstoppable.

As dawn broke, Cecilia woke up first.

She found Mark's handsome face magnified before her, lying beside her in her bedroom.

He had stayed with her the entire night.

Still feeling a bit groggy, Mark woke up when he felt her stirring. He placed his hand on her waist and softly asked, "Did you sleep well?"

Then he was kicked out of her room, not even having the time to fasten his belt.

Mark calmly smoked a cigarette, until the footsteps of Cecilia approaching him snapped him out of his reverie.

“Why are you still here?" she asked, her voice slightly hesitant.

Mark turned to face her.