Falling for a Lie, My Stepbrother’s Hidden Revenge. novel Chapter 88

The inn had photographers specifically for tourists, charging ten euros per photo.

Sylvia found a photographer to help them. "Would you mind terribly using our camera instead?"

The photographer took the camera Sylvia handed him and looked at it with undisguised admiration. "Good heavens, you're proper enthusiasts, aren't you? This camera is rather dear. I've been eyeing one myself, but couldn't quite justify the expense."

Sylvia smiled. "Just a hobby, really."

The photographer grinned cheerfully. "This is my dream camera! I'll be sure to take several splendid shots for you."

Sylvia smiled politely. "You're too kind."

"Right then, stand just here, if you would. This angle is absolutely perfect—you'll capture the mountains in the background."

The photographer directed their positioning and helpfully suggested poses. "Sir, could you move slightly to the left? Yes, that's it, precisely there. Miss, if you could lift your chin just a touch. Perfect, just like that."

As he took the photos, the photographer kept marvelling: "What remarkable craftsmanship! The resolution is utterly extraordinary! Quality truly does have its price, doesn't it? I simply must save up for one of these!"

"Now, let's try another pose, shall we?"

The photographer looked up from behind the camera and smiled at Asher, speaking with easy familiarity. "You and your girlfriend are extraordinarily photogenic, like film stars really. I feel as though even my casual shots could grace a magazine cover."

Asher was in excellent spirits today and, quite uncharacteristically, engaged with the stranger. "Most kind of you to say."

His gaze drifted to Drake standing behind the photographer, his face dark as thunderclouds. Asher flashed a victor's smile, tightening his arm around Sylvia's waist, his fingers splaying possessively across her hip as he drew her closer, his mood brightening considerably.

Drake watched the affectionate couple with a grim expression, his heart constricting painfully.

Unable to bear the self-inflicted torture any longer, he turned and descended the stairs.

Asher's lips curved upward in unmistakable satisfaction.

The photographer, handling his dream camera for the first time, was reluctant to part with it, enthusiastically taking dozens of photos.

Half an hour later, the photographer reluctantly returned the camera to Asher.

"I'll only charge you for two photos, sir. The rest are complementary—my way of thanking you for letting me experience this magnificent piece of equipment."

Asher turned on the camera to browse through the photos. "You've been rather generous with your shots."

"Let me see, darling," Sylvia leaned in close, her body pressed against Asher's side as she peered at the screen. "Your photography skills are truly impressive—these photos are absolutely gorgeous."

Sylvia looked up at the photographer. "Please, charge us the proper amount. You're running a business, after all, and we wouldn't dream of taking advantage of your kindness."

The photographer felt slightly abashed at her words.

The inn's rate of ten euros per photo wasn't inexpensive, and few visitors were willing to pay such prices.

Not only had this couple allowed him to use their superior equipment rather than his own, but they'd initially asked for ten photos, and in his enthusiasm, he'd taken forty or fifty. If he charged them the full rate, it would amount to four or five hundred euros.

That wouldn't be right—it would be utterly excessive. He couldn't fleece them just because they appeared to have means.

The photographer's conscience prevailed, and he quickly waved his hands. "That's really not necessary. I've taken forty or fifty photos for you. If I charged the full rate, it would be frightfully expensive. Let's stick with what we agreed—the price for ten photos, one hundred euros."

He presented his PayPal details.

Asher completed the transaction on his phone.

A moment later, the photographer received a payment notification for five hundred euros. His eyes widened. "Sir, I believe you've entered the wrong amount. Let me return the excess."

"There's no mistake," Asher replied calmly, putting away his phone. "I never take advantage of others."

The photographer was both surprised and delighted. This gentleman was truly generous! What an extraordinary stroke of luck to encounter such benevolent people today.

Sylvia smiled warmly. "Thank you for your help. Consider it a contribution toward your new camera."

"I should be thanking you! You're absolute angels, both of you. Thank you, thank you." The photographer bowed repeatedly in gratitude. "I wish you a lifetime of happiness together!"

"How very kind."

After leaving the inn, they browsed the nearby market, where Sylvia purchased numerous local handcrafted items to give as gifts to her friends back home.

...

Deep in the night, snow fell heavily outside, silent and serene.

By the window.

Asher's passionate kisses fell like raindrops, gentle yet insistent against her heated skin.

Sylvia felt dizzy from his attention, her senses overwhelmed by his touch.

"Do you love me?" The question was simple but weighted with meaning.

Sylvia responded without a moment's hesitation: "Of course I do. Very much."

Asher asked again, his eyes fixed on hers: "How much is 'very much'?"

Sylvia tilted her head thoughtfully, the water lapping gently around her shoulders.

After a moment, she looked up to meet Asher's gaze, her expression serious. "Very much. More than anyone. Only you. No one could ever take your place in my heart."

The depth of Asher's eyes rippled with emotion, like stones dropped into still water.

Overwhelmed with feeling, he lowered his head to capture Sylvia's lips in a kiss that spoke of possession and promise.

Things quickly escalated, the water sloshing over the edge of the tub as their bodies moved together.

Sylvia bit her lip, closing her eyes to savor the sensations flooding through her, her soft moans echoing in the tiled space.

Ripples spread across the water's surface, taking a long time to settle.

...

They spent quite some time in the bathroom before finally emerging.

Sylvia's body now bore several dark red marks, some visible even through her bathrobe.

She puffed her cheeks in mock exasperation, chiding him playfully: "Must you mark me everywhere like some territorial beast? How am I supposed to face people tomorrow without looking thoroughly debauched?"

Asher smiled, his eyes darkening as he traced one particularly vivid mark at the junction of her neck and shoulder. "It's winter—you can wear high-necked jumpers and scarves. Though I must confess, I rather like the idea of everyone knowing you're thoroughly claimed."

"You're impossible," she murmured, but her eyes betrayed her pleasure at his possessiveness.

Asher carried Sylvia out of the bathroom, his arms securely around her still-sensitive body.

Just as they exited, the doorbell rang.

It rang again and again, indicating the urgency of whoever was outside.

"Who could it possibly be at this hour?" Sylvia wondered, tightening her robe around herself.