The Great Artist // NINE PERCENT Chen Linong

14

○ You don't have to tolerate his abuse ○

"No I'm telling you, it wasn't because I have feelings for him" she said. "I don't care meet me in my office, I'm giving you half an hour" the other line said before the phone hung up. She sighed in defeat and got ready to go to his office. And what you're thinking of right now, is exactly what it is.

The CEO called the artist, fought with her as she went to her friend's wedding with the writer instead of himself. She knew that it was going to be like this but it wasn't her fault that he wasn't invited and that he was busy. He was a busy man and a possessive lover and she hated that side of him.

She knew that he was and still is a good man deep down but this certain act he commits every single time that he doesn't feel like it, he would seize that act and mess with anyone who intrudes or is involved with the act. She hated the fact that she fell for him, too deep for her to come back up to the surface now.

And now, she is going to suffer from her lover's wrath and jealousy which she knew was terrible. She wore semi-formal attire as she was going to a well-known company although it wasn't for business purposes, instead for some reason she very well knew was horrible and should not be witnessed by either the media or the press. It would destroy their careers.

She got to the company in 15 minutes, knowing that arriving earlier would do her some good. She immediately informed the front desk of her arrival and headed straight for the CEO's office. "So you came" he said as she was closing the door. "You know what to do" he said again. She held back a sigh and nods, slightly lifting up her skirt which was quite difficult to do as she was wearing a tight pencil skirt.

He started whipping her, producing cuts and bruises all over her thighs as he does so. She was silently crying due to the sting but it was nothing compared to what he had done to her before. He had done worse and that occurrence created nightmares for a whole month.

Once he was pleased with his work, he sadistically smirked and stopped whipping her. She pulled her skirt down again. The cuts and bruises were showing a little because the CEO had no control in abusing her but she was used to it. He would do this when he's jealous or unhappy, as if she was just someone to release his pent up frustration to. What happened to love? It disappeared, long ago.

She limped her way towards the lift but her walk was professional. She covered it up her own way, one she knew that wouldn't stir up commotion or provoke questions from being asked and thrown to her. She hated this, she hated the fact that she was nothing but a toy to him.

He loved her, past tense. She could feel it. Sometimes she felt the love but others, not at all. Sometimes he's all sweet and perfect but others he was ruthless and a monster. She hated that, so very much. She got in the back seat and the driver drove back to the mansion.

"I was wondering on where you have been" the writer said when she stepped foot in the living room. "I was just out" she said, covering the stinging pain from her thighs that gets worse with every step she takes. He looks at her, uncertain with her answer. "Don't worry, I was just at the company with Yang-ge" she said.

"Oh- what are those?" the writer asked, noticing the bruises peeking through her skirt. "This is nothing" she said and was about to go up the stairs when she felt her legs fail on her. Luckily, the writer was quick on his feet and caught the artist by the waist right before her body touched the lavish carpeted floor.

"Tell me" he said and she sighed and nodded at his request. They walked to her room first then the artist started telling him the things her lover does to her when he is displeased. "That sweet and perfect boyfriend image of his was... something like a mask and he just lives under that mask. He sometimes is like that but not at other times like these" she said.

"When he is displeased or unhappy or frustrated at something, he would lash it out on me and I would have to endure it. The worst was when the company nearly went bankrupt" she said, shivering slightly at the horrific memory. "He whipped me on my legs, slashed my skin, slapped me, used me, broke me" she said.

"What... how... why?" he asked. "He's just like that" she said, looking away from the writer in shame that she had been in such a state and that now the writer knew about it. "Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has their own downs in their lives and maybe this is just one of yours" he said.

"Now, let me treat them" he said and her eyes were of the size of saucers. "I beg your pardon?" the artist said. She had never had a man fix her up, not unless a doctor at least. "I'll help you treat them. Just so you know, I aced my health tests in high school and university" he said and took the first aid kit on one of the shelves of her enormous cupboard.

He told her to show him her scars and she did. He winced when he saw the sight of all those cuts and bruises, both old and new. The old ones were starting to fade away but the ones just made today were clear as day. The artist hissed slightly when the writer started putting ointment on her wounds, the sting a bit too much for the artist's liking.

"Sorry" he grinned and continued treating her wounds. Once he was done, he wrapped a few bandages and just left her to it. "Umm... Leo?" she called out. He turned his head towards her and she smiled. "Thank you, I-I've never really had a man treat me like that, apart from a doctor of course" she said.

"Just remember, you don't always have to tolerate his abuse because you think that you love him. Do as your heart dictates, don't be blinded by the voices in your head"