"Things on a cell phone belong to the person who owns the phone. They're private. You can't just take someone's phone and look at their belongings," Avery types back.
"What about your body?" Evan messages.
"??? I don't understand what you mean."
"I mean can your body be seen and taken?"
"You're so vulgar," Avery messages.
"How can he be so disgusting?" she thinks, "He's in an important meeting, but instead of listening he's sending me sexual texts."
Avery scowls at Evan and slams her phone onto the table, refusing to check his reply. Everyone in the conference room goes quiet; simultaneously they all turn and look at her.
"Mrs. Howel is behaving as if she's angry at Mr. Howel," they think.
"What are you looking at?" Avery snaps, "Get out."
"Is the meeting over?" the executives wonder, "This is unprecedented, but it seems like Mr. and Mrs. Howel have some business they need to take care of privately. If the rumors are true, and Mr. Howel has never touched his wife, why is he looking at her like he wants to take her right there on the table?"
Like recently freed prisoners, the executives file out of the room in less than a minute to the sound of scraping chairs and shuffling feet. Only Avery and Evan are left in the large conference room.
Avery is still angry, and she turns to face her husband, "Evan Howel, give my phone back."
"I'll give it to you after I get the photos back," Evan says casually.
Evan stretches his long legs and reaches out to grab her hand. Just as she's getting up he tugs her arm. Surprised by his sudden movement, she trips and falls into his arms.
"It's rather large at the moment," Evan says obscenely.
He reaches out and takes her waist, steadily pulling her onto his lap. As if she's just sat down on a nail, Avery leaps up and tries to get away, but he presses her back down to his lap.
"Do you have secrets on the phone?" he asks, "Why are you so nervous?"
"I'm not nervous."
"Are you sure?" he pulls her closer against his chest.
"Fine, I promise I'll take more photos. Now give me my phone back."
"Why did you delete the photos?" he asks.
"It made me happy to delete them," she says, "I could imagine deleting you from my life."
"Hmm," he says, "Maybe one day when I'm happy I'll consider giving you your phone back."
"What does your happiness have to do with me? Let me go already!"
He wants to force her to obey him, and he knows he has various methods to make her submit. She craned her neck to look at him and saw him smile cruelly. She's so angry, her lungs feel like they might explode. Seeing the outrage on her face gives him a shameless sense of pride.
"Why does he like to pick on me so much?" Avery wonders.
Avery lowers her head and smiles devilishly, then she bites his arm as hard as she can.
"Mm, I love your mouth," Evan says, "Do you want to bite me again?"
Despite the teeth marks on his arm he smiles and pinches her chin between his fingers. He roughly bites her rosy lips.
"You're sick," Avery hisses.
"If I'm sick so are you," he murmured, "Think about it: you hit and bite me regularly. Are you going to bind and whip me next?"
"I knew you were bad, but I never knew you were this twisted. Do you even have a sense of shame?"
"You pretend to be innocent, but I think you're rather twisted too," he says, "Now remember, you're going to take photos of me and upload a new one every day."
Robert knocks on the door, "Mr. Howel, the restaurant is ready."
Surprised by the intrusion, Evan loosens his grip around Avery's waist and she jumps off his lap. Her face is pale as if physical contact with him has made her ill. Avery heads for the door, but Evan stops her, grabbing her around the waist again. He presses her into his arms and runs his hands through her hair.
"What does he want to do?" she wonders, "Is he trying to dispel the rumors? Is that why he brought me here—for some shameless PDA?"
She inhales the fragrance of his laundry detergent and the faint but distinct musk from his body, and her mind goes blank. His hands wander over her body, and she forgets to push him away. When he pulls away from her, he smiles at her with a satisfied smirk.
She looks at him, slightly dazed. He wears a white shirt and a black overcoat, and she thinks he looks classic and elegant. Above the collar of the shirt, a pale pink lip print marks the skin of his neck. She rarely wears lipstick, but today she put on a subtle, tinted pink lip balm. He sees her staring.
"I'm giving you the opportunity to showcase your position as my wife," he says, "Not every woman is lucky enough to mark me like this—it's kind of an honor."
She can't stand his smug tone, and she doesn't want to be involved in whatever game he's playing.
"Thanks, but I'm not interested in this opportunity," she says, her voice thick with disdain, "If you give my phone back, I'll be very grateful to you."
"Maybe I'll consider it later if you make me happy," he says.
The lip print is so obvious on his neck, and most of the employees have never seen Mrs. Howel before. Everyone stares at them as they leave the office and head to the lobby. Numerous gossiping eyes look onto their faces and follow them as they walk. The employees whisper behind their hands.
"How come Mrs. Howel looks so angry? Isn't she happy to be with Mr. Howel?"
"Of course she's unhappy. Do you see what's on Mr. Howel's neck?"
"Oh my God, it looks like lipstick. Do you think it's from another woman?"
"No wonder she came here to see him—she wanted to catch him in the act. Now the evidence is conclusive. I wonder which woman has been visiting the CEO in his office?"
Avery can't hear their words, but she can guess what they're saying from their expressions. Robert knows that Evan hates feeling surrounded by crowds and he asks the employees to disperse. Evan stops Robert and whispers, "Let them see." Robert nods, guessing that Evan is attempting to publicly prove that his marriage is fine, hoping that his grandfather will hear the rumors.
A man in front of Avery stops suddenly. Lost in her thoughts, Avery walks into his back and bumps her head hard on his bony shoulders. The skin on her forehead begins to redden.
"Her skin is so tender," Evan thinks, frowning.
He pulled her to him and gently touched her forehead with his fingertips. The employee's gasp, unable to believe that Mr. Howel is being so affectionate with his wife.
"Get your hands off me," Avery hisses, "I can take care of myself."
Evan raises his eyebrows coldly, "I gave you a very generous opportunity, and this is how you respond?"
He leans toward her and picks her up bridal style.
"What are you doing now? Let me down," she screams.
Dozens of eyes are glued to the scene. Concerned that Evan will become angry about the attention, Robert rushes over to him.
"Don't worry about these gossips, Mr. Howel," he whispers, "I'll make sure that any reports say that Mrs. Howel is pregnant and you're taking care of her. If you don't like the crowds, I'll send everyone out now."
"I can't believe what a liar this man is," Avery thinks, "First he invents a story that I want to be pregnant, now he says I am pregnant—what's next, I give birth to a fake baby?"
A few days ago, Evan declared that they were trying to conceive a child. If she goes to the hospital, the media will seize on the story. With Evan's PR team's help, they'll probably turn the visit into a neonatal exam.
"Who knew you liked such PDA?" Evan whispers to Avery.
Avery rolls her eyes. She struggles against him, hoping she'll fall or he'll drop her, but he's strong and tall and holds her effortlessly. It seems almost easy for him to keep her in his arms. She grits her teeth and hides her face against his shoulder.
"If I could die from the humiliation of engaging in PDA with you, I would show love every day," she hisses.