Capítulo 96: The Hawrick Cousins
The Hawricks Family Manor
Dominic stepped over the corpses of the guards he'd eliminated, his polished boots leaving faint echoes in the silent corridor. His sharp gaze swept across the aftermath, and he clicked his tongue in mild disappointment, shaking his head.
"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath. I need to find Eric immediately. Then, the Seldings family will be next. No soul will leave this manor alive."
As he continued, a soft groan caught his attention. One of the guards, barely alive, staggered to his feet and lunged toward Dominic with desperate resolve.
Dominic stopped, turning his cold gaze on the man. A smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "Oh? Still clinging to life, are we?"
Before the guard could get within striking distance, Dominic dashed forward with deadly precision, pressing the barrel of his gun against the man's forehead.
Click. Bang.
The guard crumpled to the floor, his lifeless body joining the others. Without sparing a second glance, Dominic holstered his weapon, his movements fluid and calculated. He straightened his coat and strode back toward the office.
Inside, the air was thick with decay, the stench of rotting corpses permeating the room. Dominic covered his mouth instinctively, his sharp nose wrinkling in distaste. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a handkerchief, deftly tying it around his nose and mouth to filter the foul air. His gaze locked on the desk ahead, and with cautious steps, he avoided the powder-laden areas on the floor.
Kneeling carefully, he scooped a sample of the powder into a small transparent bag, sealing it tightly. He labeled the bag with swift precision before rising to inspect the room. The shelves were crammed with documents, some of which appeared hastily organized. Dominic began combing through them, his gloved hands moving quickly yet methodically.
"Sloppy work, Hawricks," he murmured as he pocketed a few critical files and scrawled notes into his notebook. His attention was drawn to a map tucked into a corner of the shelf. Unfolding it, he scanned the layout of the manor.
His gaze flicked to the telephone on the desk. With a measured stride, he approached it, dialing a number. A low, almost casual exchange followed between Dominic and the receiver. As the conversation ended, Dominic placed the receiver back gently and turned toward the door.
"I'll be back for something else," he muttered, his voice low but resolute.
He exited the office, consulting the map as he moved with purpose through the shadowed hallways. His steps were eerily silent, the manor's eerie quiet only punctuated by the faint rustle of his coat. The path to Eric's bedroom was clear, but Dominic's mind remained sharp, scanning for traps or threats as he pressed forward.
Dominic's movements were deliberate, every gesture and step reflecting his calculated nature. His indifference to the violence he had wrought was chilling, his focus unyielding as he prepared for his next confrontation.
The bodies he has left behind served as a grim testament to his efficiency in the office felt like a tomb and Dominic the grim reaper moved unchallenged towards his next prey.
Eric's Hawrick Bedroom
The bedroom reflected the opulent elegance, with its richly detailed furnishings and soft glow of candlelight. Heavy velvet curtains of deep burgundy framed the tall windows, barely allowing the moonlight to spill inside. A massive canopy bed dominated the room, its intricate carvings and plush bedding a testament to wealth. Dark wood furniture stood proudly against the walls, each piece polished to a gleam. A Persian rug stretched across the floor, its elaborate patterns adding warmth to the otherwise imposing space.
Insa Hawrick reclined on the bed, her black hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken veil. Dressed in a fitted crimson gown that accentuated her hourglass figure, she exuded a commanding yet sensual presence. A glass of wine rested delicately in her hand as she crossed her legs, the slit of her dress revealing just enough to tease. Her dark eyes glimmered with mischief as she watched Eric change his clothes across the room.
"Nephew," she began, her voice low and sultry, "how did the meeting with the Seldings go?"
Eric paused, scoffing audibly as he rolled his eyes. "That spoiled woman ruined everything. The Seldings sent an assassin to murder her."
Insa's perfectly arched brow lifted as a mocking chuckle escaped her lips. "An assassin? I doubt they'll succeed. Don't forget, Dominic Brusward is her husband."
Eric let out a sharp laugh, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as he strode toward her. His pale blonde hair, slightly disheveled, caught the faint flicker of the candlelight.
"The Seldings couldn't care less about the Bruswards," Eric said dismissively. "They're far more dangerous, Insa. There's no need to worry."
He reached down, running his fingers through her dark hair with a possessive familiarity. Insa tilted her head slightly, her lips curving into a wry smile.
"But—" she began, only to be interrupted by Eric's hand sliding slowly over her thigh, his touch deliberate and seductive.
"I understand your concern," he murmured, his tone softer now, yet brimming with confidence. His fingers traced lazy circles against her skin, causing a shiver to run up her spine. "With the Seldings, we won't end up like the Vorenforth family. Dominic isn't the same without his father backing him. He's no longer a threat to us."
He leaned closer, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Trust me."
Taking the wine glass from her hand, Eric brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers as he sipped. The moment felt charged, a power play wrapped in intimacy. Insa leaned back into the cushions, her gaze narrowing thoughtfully, even as a faint smile lingered.
Her fingers reached up, brushing against his collar as though to steady herself or perhaps to test his resolve. "You're playing a dangerous game, Eric," she said softly, though her tone lacked the conviction of a warning.
Eric smirked, placing the glass aside and pressing a kiss to her hand. "Danger is the only game worth playing," he replied, his voice smooth as velvet.
The air between them simmered with tension, their movements deliberate and layered with unspoken meaning.
Insa smiled mischievously, her dark eyes locking with Eric's as she reached out, pulling him closer. Her sudden movement caused the glass of wine to slip from his hand, shattering on the floor in a cascade of crimson. Neither paid it any mind.
Eric's hands found her waist, gripping firmly as he leaned in to kiss the curve of her neck. Insa tilted her head back, biting her lip as his breath brushed against her skin. His lips lingered there, planting soft yet heated kisses that sent shivers down her spine. She grasped his shoulders, steadying herself as his lips found hers, capturing her in a deep, fervent kiss.
Their breaths mingled, the kiss growing hungrier with every passing second. Insa pulled him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair as the tension between them ignited into full-blown desire. Eric pulled back momentarily, his chest rising and falling heavily, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
He tossed it aside, revealing his bare chest, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over his toned form. "It's been a while since we've made love...," he said, his voice husky, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Insa rolled her eyes playfully, though her tone carried a hint of longing. "You're always busy, barely sparing me any time. And now, the Sarogaths have removed your family from the anniversary list. Isn't this the perfect moment to finally focus on us?"
Eric chuckled softly, stepping closer as his hands slid along her thighs. He gathered the fabric of her dress, lifting it slowly, his touch igniting her senses. "Maybe you're right," he murmured, his fingers grazing her bare skin.
Insa's breath hitched as his hand traveled higher, her chest rising and falling with anticipation. When his fingers slipped inside her, a sharp gasp escaped her lips. Her back arched involuntarily as a wave of pleasure surged through her.
Eric leaned closer, his free hand circling her waist to pull her against him. She gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin as her moans filled the room. His movements were deliberate, each thrust of his fingers drawing a reaction from her, her body trembling with every sensation.
"Insa," he whispered against her ear, his voice rough and commanding, sending a thrill down her spine.
Her hands clenched at his shirt's fabric, her moans growing louder as she surrendered to the moment. The intensity between them was electric, their bodies moving in perfect sync as Eric continued to pleasure her, their connection deepening with each passing second.
The world outside the bedroom faded, leaving only the two of them in this charged, intimate moment. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in their passion, the flickering candlelight casting their entwined shadows on the walls.
Insa's fingers glided over Eric's chest, tracing the hard lines of his muscles with a deliberate slowness. Her touch trailed down to his stomach, lingering at his waistband as her dark eyes gleamed with desire. She let her gaze drop to his groin, biting her lip as she reached for his zipper. With practiced ease, she pulled it down, the sound sharp and tantalizing in the otherwise quiet room. His trousers slid to the floor, pooling at his feet.
Eric's lips curved into a wicked smile as he reached out, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. Her back pressed against his chest, her breath catching at his sudden assertiveness. He leaned into her ear, his voice low and teasing.
"You've missed me, haven't you?" he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine. "I can feel it... the way your body responds to my every touch."
Insa moaned softly as he ran his hands over her hips, down her thighs, and back up again. "You don't know how much," she whispered, her voice trembling with need.
Eric's hands slid up to the small of her back, guiding her forward. With a firm grip, he bent her slightly, positioning her so she was backed against him. "Let me remind you," he growled, his tone dripping with lust.
With one swift movement, Eric thrust into her, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Insa. Her hands gripped the edge of the bed for support, her knuckles whitening as he moved within her. Each thrust was deliberate, filled with pent-up passion, his groans mingling with her moans in a symphony of desire.
"God, Insa," he rasped, his voice rough and raw. "You feel even better than I remembered... so tight, so perfect."
She groaned as he pushed deeper, her body arching into him. "Eric," she gasped, her voice breaking with each breath.
He reached up, tangling his fingers in her thick black hair and pulling gently, angling her head back so he could press his lips to the curve of her neck. His teeth grazed her skin, eliciting a shudder from her as he continued his relentless rhythm.
"Tell me," he demanded, his tone commanding but filled with need. "Tell me how much you've missed this."
"I... I've missed you," Insa stammered, her voice barely a whisper as pleasure consumed her.
"That's right," Eric growled, his grip on her hair tightening as he thrust deeper, pushing her to the edge. "You're mine, Insa. No one else can make you feel like this."
Her moans grew louder, her body trembling under his touch as he claimed her with every movement. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, their passion consuming them entirely, leaving no room for anything else but each other.
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