NovelEnglishRemington was already seated at the dining table when Lizetta paused, shooting a look towards Lina, "The food's
great, but the company? Not so much. I'm gonna eat in the lounge." She turned to leave, the screeching sound
of a chair against the floor echoed as a man's figure swiftly approached her.
Lizetta's heart sank. She turned to run, but Remington had already scooped her up.
She kicked and struggled, but she was no match for his strength. He forced her down into a chair and, without
waiting for her to settle, he brought a bowl of oatmeal to her lips.
Lizetta clenched her mouth shut, while Remington's resolve was just as strong, as if he could hold the spoon
there forever unless she opened her mouth.
Chest heaving, frustrated beyond words, Lizetta swung her hand, knocking the bowl away. With a crash, the
porcelain shattered on the floor, and Remington's expression turned ice-cold. "Lizetta! You really want to defy
me? Fine, you're not going out tonight!"
Not this again!
Feeling a lump in her throat like swallowed blood, Lizetta took a deep breath and looked at Remington, her lips
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtcurling into a mocking smile.
"Looking at your face makesnauseous. It's a physical reaction, uncontrollable, sorry."
His expression grew even colder as he sternly ordered, "Another bowl."
Then, he tried again to feed her, "Go on, throw up for me. Throw up and we'll continue. I've got all night."
He spoke with an eerie gentleness, his eyes heavy with fog.
Lizetta clenched her fists, wishing she could puke to his face directly. But she hadn't eaten all day, and now, she
couldn't even muster the saliva to spit, let alone stomach acid. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth.
If Remington wanted to play servant, she'd take him as a servant, a waiter. She ate the oatmeal and even had
him peel shrimp for her.
When he presented a plateful, she pushed it away with force, the shrimp scattering over his suit.
"Oops, my bad, what a mess."
Remington obviously saw through her act.
She wanted him to explode in anger. and leave, but instead of getting riled up, he simply stood up, saying, Eat
up. I'm gonna take a shower and then we can go out." S
He even ruffled her hair before leaving. Lizetta punched the cushion in frustration, utterly bored.
"Mrs. Dashiell, Mr. Dashiell is..." Lina
approached, intending to hint at Remington's injuries and how he still peeled shrimp for Lizetta, and to
suggest showering might be difficult
for him.
Find.net
But as she started, Lizetta swept a look over at her, "I don't care what happens to him! Lina, see to the
decorations and the bedding in the bedroom, will you?"
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
Lina, employed by Remington, naturally sided with him, which only irked Lizetta more.
When people loved someone, they hung on their every word, even their nwould make their heart race.
Accordingly, falling out of love turned every mention of the person into an annoyance.
This was supposed to be their wedding night, and the house was still decked out in celebration, yet to be cleared
away.
Meeting Lizetta's cold gaze, Lina sighed and left without another word.
On the way to the hospital, Remington drove. Lizetta sat in the passenger seat, looking out at the snow-covered
world outside, refusing to engage.
Inside the car, it was deadly silent; though they were physically close, an invisible chasm lay between them.
Remington loosened his tie and said,
"The diary entries, | had them
iet B
authenticated. They're not all forgeries. Most are your writings. Someone just had them expertly alteredby a
restoration specialist, because when the servant found the diary, it was already water damaged. Those
alterations were perfectly concealed."
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