Bringing the Nation's Husband Home

XLIII | You're going to kill him!

This wasn't the first time that Annabelle had sent a woman to Producer Johnson, hence he understood what the gift was the moment he received the text, leaving the hot spring ahead of time.

The entire journey back to the hotel, Producer Johnson was trying to guess who she could be this time. The moment he opened the door and found Isabelle lying on the bed, his body reacted almost immediately.

He never expected Annabelle to have sent Isabelle... She was the woman he had been craving for the longest time!

Drugged, Isabelle couldn't think straight, lying lifelessly curled into a ball on the bed. Her entire face was tinted pink, even the skin that was exposed were a deep shade of pink, appearing exceptionally seductive.

Just this image was enough to arouse Produced Johnson. He took large strides to the bed and stared down into her beautiful face for a while. How could someone look so beautiful? He fished out his phone and sent a text to Annabelle before reaching out to caress her delicate skin. Turning, he went straight to the shower.

Producer Johnson washed himself briefly before coming out of the shower. While he was drying himself, he hesitated slightly as he looked towards his cologne. After a moment, he reached for it and started spraying it all over his fat body. Satisfied, he tied a towel over his waist and headed out.

Grinning, he climbed onto the bed, impatiently reaching out with his hands to pull off Isabelle's swimsuit. She was burning! The slight touch sent a tremble through him, rushing him into a frenzy.

Isabelle felt as though she was on fire, heat engulfing her. She was excited and sensitive, but the minute someone touched her, she had a strong sense revulsion.

It was the first time she had felt such repulsion. With the last shred of sanity, she was sure that this was not normal, but regardless of how she struggled, she wasn't able to explain it.

Isabelle wore a conservative swimsuit, and when she curled up, it clung to her, making it difficult to remove. In a hurry, Producer Johnson roughly ripped it off, sending pain coursing through Isabelle. She frowned, an unfamiliar scent clouding her senses. It was a man's cologne!

Man? Isabelle frowned deeper as she wrestled her eyes open. Even after staring at the person in front for a long while, she still couldn't register who he was.

But she knew from the scent that it definitely wasn't Alexander.

Isabelle lifted her hands weakly, pushing away the hands that were pulling at her swimsuit, but no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't inflict any harm on the man. Instead, her struggles seemed to tug at his heart, kindling a flame inside him. He couldn't resist any longer, lowering himself to kiss her face.

Isabelle tilted her hand, hiding away from him. Drugged, her feeble struggles were useless even if a sense of disgust engulfed her.

Producer Johnson tugged and fiddled with the swimsuit, but when it was almost completely removed, his phone rang.

He ignored it, but the ringing kept going on relentlessly. Standing up, he looked over in frustration, realizing that it was from his wife. He grabbed his phone hurriedly, hiding in the bathroom.

Even though she was out of sorts, Isabelle was aware that she was in danger. The minute the man left the room, she tried to stand up, but the moment she did so, her body gave away, falling near the bed.

"Ah," she groaned from the impact. Without waiting, she lifted her hands to hold onto the table nearby, trying to pull herself up. She pulled and slowly staggered towards the door.

Her body was limp and her legs were numb, she had to use every ounce of strength in her body to take each step. When she finally reached the door, she could no longer support herself, kneeling on the floor.