NovelEnglishFitch's face still bore the imprint of Zoey's hand. Anyone claiming she hadn't put much strength into that slap would be telling
tales.
The stinging pain on his cheek was all he could focus on.
Ignoring Tyler's attempts to intervene, Fitch grabbed Zoey's wrist tightly and dragged her out of the bustling hall.
Carol made a move to follow but was stopped by Tyler.
"Ms. Miller, you can't get involved in their mess."
"What on earth is he planning to do?"
Tyler smirked, "After all these years, how many women have you seen lay a hand on Fitch? Even the Haskins elders wouldn't dare
cross him. Zoey's slap must have really ticked him off. But he's got a sense of restraint. He wouldn't actually hit a woman."
Carol scoffed, "You guys are all the same, no good men among you."
Her voice faltered, and she looked down, falling silent.
Tyler picked up a glass of wine from a nearby tray and took a sip, "Well, Ms. Miller, it all depends on what you consider 'good."
We've always judged by our conscience."
Carol didn't respond, her gaze fixed toward the villa as she lapsed into silence.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMeanwhile, Fitch had dragged Zoey to a secluded part of the garden.
"Let go!"
She tried to break free, but he pinned her against the wall.
Her back screamed in pain, and then she felt his weight on her.
Her chin was suddenly in his grip, forcing her to look up into his eyes.
There was no denying she had used all her might for that slap. Now, his cheek was visibly swollen.
In a moment of madness, Zoey felt a surge of satisfaction.
Fitch glared at her, memories of their rough encounters in bed flashing through his mind.
She had always been a reluctant lover, often gagging.
But he had found a perverse pleasure in it, as if exposing a hidden secret.
He had always despised women, feeling nauseated by the mere touch of their lips.
Initially, he rarely kissed Zoey, but during the brief the had lost his memory, he had kissed her countless times.
"Three hundred thousand not enough? You still have to cling to me?"
His grip tightened, his eyes cold as ice.
"Are you addicted, Zoey? How shameless can you get?"
From the very start of their deal for a few tens of thousands, she had been nothing but an object to him.
During the times he had been rough with her, she had cursed her fate.
She never complained.
But it wasn't her choice during his amnesia.
In front of him, she felt choked, unable to utter a word.
The moment she fell for him, she had lost, giving him the right to hurt her indefinitely.
Tears began to fall again, landing on the back of Fitch's hand.
His hand trembled slightly, the tears scalding.
He instinctively wanted to pull back, but after a few centimeters, his grip tightened once more.
A torrent of emotions surged within him: anger, disgust, loathing.
"Take the money and get out. Let's pretend we never knew each other."
Zoey was gasping for air, tears her only response.
Fitch had let her go but still felt an unsettling rage within. He had never been slapped by a woman before.
He lit a cigarette, feeling her presence behind him, his voice colder than ever.
"Aren't you leaving?"
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmWithout a word, Zoey straightened her clothes and limped away.
She had twisted her ankle when he threw her against the wall, and she was now desperately trying not to show weakness before
him.
Only when she had put sdistance between them did she slowly stop and look down at her ankle.
Swollen like a loaf of bread, it looked absolutely dreadful.
Footsteps approached from behind, and a glimmer of hope flickered in her heart.
But it was Mia's voice that reached her.
"You heard, didn't you? My brother's getting engaged to Miss Bennitt. You're nothing but trash, so keep your distance. He saw your
swollen face, knew you'd been hit, but he didn't care. In his eyes, you've always been worthless."
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