Chapter 93

“Dr. Gertrude does not travel outside of the mansions owned by the Dietrion family. All future treatments will take place here.”

“Thank you, my Lord. And Mr. Adolf said that the bills—”

“Dr. Gertrude is my physician, so I don’t need it.”

He cut to the chase, and Liv froze, pressing her lips together. Watching her reaction, Demus tossed the papers on the table and asked.

“Or do you want me to charge for it?”

Could it be the result of years of living paycheck to paycheck? For someone who said she’d gladly accept anything, Liv seemed unwilling to accept material support for no good reason.

It reminded him of the time he offered her a ruby necklace, which she rejected outright. He was also told that she was paying the rent on the house she had just moved into.

She accepted his referral to a doctor, but didn’t want him to help with the bill.

Demus easily guessed Liv’s thought. She didn’t want to see that she was being pitied. It was a futile pride; willing to earn money with her naked body, but not to be treated like a beggar.

“Do you think a few bucks for medical bills will cause me great distress?”

“… It won’t, of course.”

“Money comes and goes. Getting free money from other people isn’t going to change your life.”

Liv quietly lowered her gaze. On the surface, she seemed to agree with him, but Demus could tell she was having a hard time convincing herself.

Demus pressed his index finger firmly against his temple, staring at Liv through narrowed eyes, then twisted his mouth.

“If it really bothers you, why don’t you try to entertain me? I’ll take that as the price.”

“How?”

“Why would you ask me that? That’s yours to find out.”

He thought it had all fallen apart, but when he realized that Liv still had some sturdy bits inside her, Demus quickly became very bored.

He hated things that were flimsy even before he touched them, but he also didn’t like things that were still rigid even after he took a great deal of care with them. Not because he had no patience, but because he didn’t feel the need to put up with it.

Liv must have noticed the change in Demus’ expression.

She glanced back at the doorway, a perplexed look on her face. Today’s meeting had been arranged for extra work, so it was just her and Demus in the room.

Confirming that the door was locked, she grabbed the neatly tied ribbon of her collar. The thin, cheap fabric ribbon came unraveled.

All through her extra work, Liv had always waited for Demus to say “take it off.” That action was a tacit signal that all of those hours were “extra work.” However, she was undressing herself now, without waiting for Demus to tell her to.

Liv, who had been hesitating from untying the ribbon to unbuttoning the first button, took a deep breath and undressed a little more briskly.

Her caraco, her petticoat, plopped down and piled up. Following a pace that was neither slow nor fast, Liv’s body grew lighter and lighter.

Considering that every time she took off a piece of clothing she would fold it up and put it to one side, this certainly differed from her usual practice.

Demus leaned back a little, rubbing his upper lip languidly with his index finger. The cushy sofa wrapped around him gently.

Liv, having removed her coarse outer garments and stripped down to her underwear, glanced up out of nowhere. Green eyes stared straight at Demus.

Keeping eye contact, Liv tugged at the straps of her underwear. The tightly bound ribcage loosened, revealing her white breasts.

Demus had always thought her breasts looked good from the first time he saw them. They had a moderate amount of flesh, and they would bounce around a bit whenever she took off her clothes. The movement was especially noticeable when viewed from the front.

Liv’s chest was visibly bouncing as she took a deep breath. Liv moved her hand down, her fingertips grazing the slightly exposed skin of her plumpy breasts.

The clips on the old garter belt holding the stockings in place came undone with a soft clank. Consequently, the tightly pulled suspenders slipped down, and the tightly pulled stockings loosened.

The thin stockings had become so frayed that it seemed as if they might rip at any moment.

Wouldn’t they probably break into pieces with a little force?

Imagining the feel of those easily torn stockings made Demus’ mouth go dry.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, Demus crossed his long legs and propped his jaw, his hand on the armrest for support. He considered drinking to quench his thirst, but somehow it didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to get drunk and lose control of his clarity.

Liv, who had undone the belt, pushed the thin stockings down. As the stockings curled down from the top, her hidden legs came into view.

The next moment, Demus rose to his feet.