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My deep affection binds me like a long night Novel Cover

My deep affection binds me like a long night

In the world of the elite, a powerful billionaire finds himself ensnared by a relentless, consuming love that feels more like a beautiful prison than a fairytale. As deep-seated affection turns into an unbreakable bond, the line between devotion and obsession begins to blur. This modern romance explores the weight of a passion so intense it mirrors a never-ending night, where two souls are trapped in a cycle of desire, wealth, and emotional complexity.
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Chapter 3

Emily carried the soup bowl over, but Mrs. Hunt’s sharp eyes caught the movement instantly. “What is this?”

Judith covered her mouth with a light laugh. “I heard Emily used to make that special medicinal broth for Jerry. I was curious what it tasted like, so I asked her to make me a bowl.”

“Don’t drink it!”

A violent force struck Emily’s wrist. The bowl overturned, and scalding liquid splashed across the back of her hand, raising angry red blisters almost instantly.

Mrs. Hunt’s face twisted with fury. “You little witch! How dare you try to poison my future daughter-in-law? Are you trying to end the Hunt family line?”

The searing pain in Emily’s hand was so intense her eyes stung. “I didn’t—”

With a cold sneer, Mrs. Hunt shoved her hard. “Don’t think I don’t know your scheming. Since you can’t have my Jerry, you’re targeting his bride!”

Emily fell, her lower back striking the sharp corner of a table. She curled inward, gasping.

“You have no shame,” Mr. Hunt said with a derisive snort, playing the stern patriarch. “Our family has already rejected you, yet you still cling to Jerry.”

“Let me be blunt,” he continued, his voice icy. “This is the Hunt family villa. It will be Jerry and Miss Judith’s marital home. How much longer are you going to play the cuckoo in our nest?”

Emily suddenly laughed.

Beside her, Jerry’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He had seen her cry. He had seen her rage. He had seen her in despair. But he had never seen her laugh like this—quiet, tinged with mockery.

“Fine. I’ll move out.”

She was leaving anyway. The Hunt villa meant nothing to her now.

As Emily turned to gather her things, Judith caught her arm. “Mom and Dad are just worried about me, so they overreacted. Don’t take it to heart. There’s a banquet tonight. You should come.”

“No, I—”

Emily began to refuse, but Jerry’s voice cut through, cold and abrupt. “If Judith wants you there, you go.”

His eyes were dark and utterly cold. It was an order, leaving no room for negotiation.

A faint, self-mocking smile touched her lips. “Fine. I’ll go.”

That evening, she arrived at the hotel.

Beneath an exquisite crystal chandelier, the floor was carpeted with vivid pink roses, each petal dusted with crushed diamonds that glittered under the lights.

“Mr. Hunt certainly spares no expense. Every diamond here is unique. A sea of pink roses this size must cost a fortune.”

“That’s nothing. He’s famously devoted. Rumor has it he hired a world-renowned philharmonic—the kind that commands eight-figure fees for a single performance—to play the entire evening.”

Under the dazzling lights, Judith stood in a black evening gown, elegant and regal.

Jerry, usually all sharp edges and cold efficiency, had softened. He knelt on one knee, gently sliding silver crystal heels onto her feet.

He gazed up at her, his eyes filled with tender affection.

Someone stepped forward, sighing with admiration. “You must be Mrs. Hunt. I’ve heard so much about the extraordinary way Mr. Hunt cherishes you. You truly are a perfect match!”

The person beside him nudged his elbow, whispering, “That’s Judith. *She* is the actual Mrs. Hunt.”

The man flushed. “Mr. Hunt didn’t even prepare a gown for his wife, yet he puts Judith in the spotlight. No wonder I was mistaken.”

Just as murmurs spread through the crowd, the massive screen at the front of the room changed—to a series of private photos of Judith.

The woman on the screen was nude. Across her pale, elegant shoulder blades was a dense spray of vivid marks.

The fiery red passion marks made a stark pattern against her porcelain skin.

The room erupted in gasps. Several men discreetly raised their phones to snap pictures.

Tears welled in Judith’s eyes. “Emily… I know you don’t like me. You can hit me, you can yell at me… but how could you… how could you do this…”

Her voice broke into a sob.

The guests began to murmur louder.

“How vicious! Judith is about to be married. Is this woman trying to destroy her?”

“She’s just jealous. She thinks this will make him change his mind? She’s delusional.”

Every scornful gaze in the room converged on Emily.

Jerry’s eyes, devoid of any warmth, locked onto her. His gaze was so cold it seemed to pierce straight through.

His voice was like frozen steel. “I warned you not to lay a finger on Judith.”

Emily’s throat tightened. “It wasn’t me. Check the security footage. I’ve been—”

*Slap!*

A sharp blow across her face cut off her words. Her cheek burned.

Jerry’s eyes were glacial. “Using such a despicable method… it’s disgusting.”

“You think humiliating Judith will make me look at you differently? Stop dreaming. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last woman on earth.”

Tears sprang to Emily’s eyes. “I told you, it wasn’t me!”

His expression turned colder. “Still denying it?”

Jerry had her forcibly taken to a hotel room. A dozen cameras were trained on her. He looked down from his height. “You like taking secret photos? Then let’s see how you like being the subject.”

*Riiip—*

Her clothes were torn open roughly, exposing soft, pale skin. Hands forced her into different positions, holding her down while the cameras flashed.

“Stop… Jerry, please, don’t do this…”

Emily struggled, pleading, but was met only with his cold, detached stare.

“Did you think about *her* having a day like this when you were photographing Judith? She is my wife. I swore I would never let her suffer.”

“Anyone who dares hurt my wife will pay a thousandfold.”

Her cries tore from her throat.

Jerry didn’t look back as he walked out. “Keep shooting. I want 999 photos. Not one less.”

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