Chapter 1100: Chapter 1110: That Night, Afraid to Look Back (Part 3)
"Jose?" She turned back to look at him, confusion and puzzlement in her eyes.
His answer was to yank her forcefully into his arms!
Without giving her any chance to protest, he pinned her against the wall and lowered his head to capture her lips.
His kiss, like the man himself, was domineering and ruthless, an overwhelming force that drove her back step by step!
Her retreat only made him push his advantage further, stealing her breath and leaving her a little weak.
"Jose." Her breathing was a little chaotic, but the words that slipped out carried an unintentional hint of a shy little woman.
Jose Floyd held her and walked out, then bent down, covering her body.
With that brief instant of respite, her reason returned by a fraction.
Her hands pushed lightly at the man on top of her, her voice soft as water: "Jose, go drink the hangover tea, otherwise your head will hurt later."
She herself didn’t know if she was caring about him on purpose or by accident; the moment the words left her mouth, her gaze turned a little hazy, a little dazed.
Jose Floyd got up, let out an "Mm," went over and picked up the hangover tea on the coffee table and downed it in one go.
And she, lying on the bed, stared at the ceiling. Her fingers instinctively slipped under the pillow; the moment her fingertips touched the thing under the pillow, she shrank back in fright.
It was just then that her body was pressed down again, a suffocating sense of oppression crashing over her.
"You zoned out. What were you thinking?" the man on top of her asked.
She gave a small laugh. "Why are you being so suspicious? I wasn’t thinking about anything, just wondering when you’ll give me a day off so I can go out and see the scenery."
The man above her gave her a deep, penetrating look. "Nicole, you’re smart. You’re acting a little strange tonight, so I’ll say it one last time: don’t think about leaving. Especially don’t even think about going out to find another man. Anything I’ve touched, no one else gets to touch, not even a little. Understand?"
"With you like this, how would I even dare go find another man? You’d kill me." She shot him a reproachful look.
"As long as you know."
.....
The man on top of her stopped talking and used his actions to replace those domineering words.
Each time was fiercer than the last, like a tyrannical declaration that she was his possession—she couldn’t leave, and she shouldn’t even dream of it.
She had no idea how long it went on before he finally stopped and collapsed beside her, falling asleep.
Even in sleep, his expression remained taut.
So cold—his entire being, from the inside out, exuded a constant chill.
This was probably the hallmark of a cold and heartless man.
A chill slowly surfaced in the depths of her eyes.
His features were reflected in her pupils, and in her mind sounded Wade’s weak, fading voice before he died. She looked at the man sleeping beside her, her fingers clenching tightly into her palm.
....
A long time.
When her gaze widened again, hatred and ice had already taken over.
Her slender fingers slowly slipped under the pillow and closed around the short knife.
Coldness rose at the tail of her brows; the short knife was already gripped in her palm.
He had nothing on, no clothes, no cover. The bathrobe had already been tossed to the floor by him earlier. She held the short knife, its tip aimed straight at his heart.
He’d paid for her schooling; Later she chose to study medicine, and she knew the structure of the human organs like the back of her hand.
Where the exact center of the heart lay—she could line it up with a single glance.....
But at the moment she raised the short knife to strike, she looked at his stern, handsome face and, instinctively, she hesitated...
Five years.
So many springs, summers, autumns, winters.
To say she had no feelings at all—she couldn’t even fool herself....
Maybe her killing intent and hatred were too strong, because the man who had fallen asleep suddenly opened his eyes a fraction.....
