The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 19

“But you’re not alone, Caleb.”

 

“…Are you about to tell me something cliché, like my mother and brother are watching over me from above?”

 

“Caleb?”

 

Before Shailoh could pull her hand away, Caleb caught her slender wrist and—in one fluid motion—drew her down onto the couch beneath him.

 

“If you’re going to comfort me, then do it properly.”

 

The world tilted. One moment, Shailoh was sitting upright; the next, she was on her back, sinking into the soft cushions. Shailoh’s breath caught, her eyes wide as Caleb’s lips found the delicate skin of her inner arm.

 

“Well? Sasha.”

 

Heat bloomed where his mouth touched her. She opened her lips to speak, but no words came. His fingers traced down her cheek with deliberate slowness before finding the buttons of her blouse. One by one, they gave way beneath his touch, revealing the gentle curve of her breasts.

 

“C-Caleb…”

 

A strange warmth unfurled through Shailoh’s body. She reached for his arm—too late. His palm cupped her breast, and her nipples hardened against his touch. The sensation was electric, foreign, sending color flooding to her cheeks.

 

“You said you’d comfort me.”

 

The firelight danced across his sculpted features, casting shadows that made him look almost dangerous.

 

“I don’t mean this… Ah!”

 

She shook her head in weak protest, but her body betrayed her—arching as his fingers circled her sensitive peak. Platinum hair spilled through her fingers as he lowered his head, taking her nipple into the heat of his mouth. His tongue swirled, teased, while his free hand tugged her dress down past her hips, pushing aside the delicate fabric of her underwear.

 

“Caleb…!”

 

His finger found her most intimate place, seeking and finding the hidden bud of her desire. He stroked with maddening precision.

 

“Aah… ngh…!”

 

The dual assault—his mouth on her breast, his fingers between her thighs—sent lightning through her veins. Her back bowed off the couch, toes curling as her hand reached desperately for something to anchor her to reality.

 

Caleb lavished attention on both breasts before his lips found her ear, his breath warm against the shell. “Sasha.”

 

“Ah… ahh, ugh!”

 

“Does it feel good?”

 

Her searching hand found the solid warmth of his shoulder just as his finger slipped inside her slick heat. His large, strong hand held her trembling body against him, her soft curves pressed to the hard planes of his chest. Wet sounds mingled with her shallow moans and ragged breathing.

 

“Ah… ahh!”

 

His fingers moved with purpose, finding that secret spot that made her gasp and thrash her head from side to side. Caleb’s low chuckle vibrated against her throat as he nipped at her earlobe. “Right here.”

 

“Ah, ah!”

 

His rhythm quickened. Tears gathered in her eyes as her nails dug into his shoulder, her body climbing toward something she’d never experienced. Then her world exploded in white light.

 

“Aaahh!”

 

The climax crashed over Shailoh like a wave, leaving her trembling and spent, as if she’d run for miles. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath.

 

“Hah… hah…”

 

Nothing had ever felt like this. The world had narrowed to just him—the man who held her as if she were something precious.

 

Shailoh lay boneless, watching through heavy lids as Caleb straightened his clothes and cleaned his fingers with a handkerchief. His smile was satisfied, almost predatory.

 

“Did you enjoy it, Sasha? You looked quite beautiful just now.”

 

“…Why?”

 

Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms, lips parted as she struggled to process what had happened. She couldn’t even summon the energy to cover herself. Caleb studied her for a long moment before settling beside her, bringing himself to her eye level.

 

“Do you understand why a man does this to a woman?”

 

“…”

 

“I like you, Shailoh. And I think you feel the same way.”

 

Like her? It was something she never even dared to hope for. Stunned, wondering if this was all some fevered dream, Shailoh instinctively closed her eyes and shrank back as his hand approached. But his touch was gentle—tucking her hair behind her ear before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

 

“Did you dislike it?”

 

The tenderness in the gesture made her eyes burn with unshed tears. Dislike it? She’d resisted at first, yes, but disliked it? Shailoh was shocked, her heart hammering against her ribs, but…

 

“I actually wanted to say this later, but you tempted me first.”

 

“What?”

 

“When you’re alone with a man, you shouldn’t embrace him so recklessly—saying things like you want to comfort him.”

 

Caleb’s finger traced her nose with playful affection before he pressed a quick, soft kiss to her lips. Those teal eyes held her captive, drinking in every detail of her flushed face.

 

Here lay Shailoh—the orphan who’d once stolen Claire Diponz’s identity, who now graced stages as Sasha Griche. At twenty-three, she’d already weathered storms that would have broken others.

 

Born in poverty to an unknown father, orphaned and abused, then thrust into the gilded cage of a duke’s household as a substitute daughter. When the real heiress returned, Shailoh’s value evaporated like morning mist. She’d witnessed murder, faced death, and been falsely accused of unspeakable crimes. Even then, her trials hadn’t ended. She’d been deceived and used by a man whose polished exterior concealed a rotten core.

 

If Caleb’s blood had cursed him to a difficult life, then Shailoh had been swept into chaos through no fault of her own—a leaf caught in others’ storms. Yet she remained untouched by it all. Pure as mountain snow, clean as crystal water. On stage, she could seduce audiences with sultry dances and honeyed songs, but her essence stayed innocent—just like the girl he’d met by the lake at dawn.

 

Looking into those guileless eyes, still dazed from what had just transpired, Caleb felt heat coil low in his belly. Her dress had slipped down, revealing the soft curves of her breasts and the dampness between her thighs—a temptation that made his jaw clench. He wanted to flip her over and claim her completely, but reason held him back by a thread.

 

Not yet. This desire burned in Caleb, but he’d wait. Soon enough, he wouldn’t be able to see her again. He’d already stopped her search for her father—this would have to be enough.

 

“So, Sasha.”

 

“…”

 

“Now you understand, don’t you? When you’re alone with a man and embrace him… this is what happens.”

 

“Si-Since when?”

 

“Well, take a guess. We’re lovers now.”

 

Lovers. The word that sealed their bond made those blue eyes tremble. Caleb settled beside her, crossing his legs and resting his elbow on the couch where she lay.

 

“What? Did I misread your reaction?”

 

“…”

 

“Am I being rejected?” Caleb affected an exaggerated look of hurt, eyes downcast in mock dejection. “I suppose I mean nothing to Sasha. And here I thought you liked me.”

 

Silence stretched between them. He played with her fingers as she watched him through tear-bright eyes.

 

“How about starting to like me now? I’m quite handsome and wealthy, and I promise to be kind to you.”

 

“But… is it really okay?”

 

“Is what okay?”

 

“Well, you see… my status is quite low.”

 

“Mine’s the same.”

 

“What?” Shailoh couldn’t believe what she was hearing. As she opened her mouth to protest, his calm response cut through her disbelief.

 

“I’m the second prince, first in line to the throne, yet here I am—hiding my true identity, pretending to be some foreign noble on holiday.”

 

Of course, it was all calculated. Accepting Shailoh’s sympathetic gaze, Caleb quietly catalogued his successes.

 

The nobles had embraced ‘Baron Cal’ from abroad—wealthy, handsome, and unmarried. He never missed at poker but knew when to lose gracefully to prideful old lords. Courteous to ladies, sweet as honey to noblewomen. His sickly childhood had kept him confined to the royal castle until age ten, so no one recognized him now.

 

But this masquerade had limits. Caleb needed deeper access to noble society, and needed to strike a fatal blow against his political enemies. That’s where ‘Sasha Griche’ came in.

 

“When… will you reveal your identity and reclaim your rightful position?”

 

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

 

Ending the conversation before it could deepen, Caleb rose and helped her adjust her underwear and dress.

 

“The couch is soaked—I’ll have the maid change the fabric.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“You must be exhausted. Get some sleep. Let’s meet around lunch tomorrow to choose which script you’ll be performing.”

 

Too embarrassed to find her voice, Shailoh simply nodded. Her legs felt weightless beneath her, as if she might float away at any moment. A tremor of fear whispered through her—what if she woke tomorrow to find this had all been nothing more than a beautiful dream?