He lunged over, pinning her against the passenger seat.
He grabbed her chin. "You two have been secretly hooking up for a long ti, haven’t you? No wonder he gave up his family’s business to beco Grandfather’s personal physician. It was all for you, wasn’t it?"
Natalie Morgan’s face contorted under his grip.
She tried to struggle, but he held her down firmly.
"Theodore Grant, must you have such a filthy mind?" An indescribable feeling gripped her heart. "If you’re so determined to pick a fight with , you don’t have to use Felix Finch as an excuse every single ti."
"Then tell , have you two slept together?"
He slowly tightened his grip on her chin.
He didn’t know why he was reacting this way.
He struggled to calm down, but it was useless. In fact, right now, he was fighting a murderous urge.
"Natalie Morgan, tell . During the two years we’ve been married, have you slept with Felix Finch? Have you?"
He stared intently at the woman before him, his eyes unblinking, the muscles in his face twitching faintly.
’He’s like a madman.’
Natalie Morgan’s body went rigid with fear. "What kind of answer do you want?"
"Did you sleep with him, or not?" he cursed.
Just as Natalie was about to speak, he slamd on the accelerator and the car lunged forward.
He kept his foot pressed hard on the accelerator, tearing wildly down Riverden Avenue in the dead of night.
The engine roared, and the exhaust pipe let out a beastly growl.
She had never seen him so utterly unhinged.
Tears stread down her face in terror. "Theodore Grant, calm down!"
"Didn’t you always say you wanted to die and take with you? Fine! Let’s die together!"
He’d lost all reason. He floored the accelerator, and the speedoter needle shot toward two hundred.
The cars and people on the road beca nothing but blurs.
Natalie Morgan closed her eyes, her lips trembling as she spoke. "Felix Finch and I never even spoke in college. I didn’t even know he ca to see our performance. If you don’t believe , you can ask Mrs. Wallace."
She could feel it.
The mont she finished speaking, the car’s speed dropped noticeably.
"Felix Finch and I aren’t even friends. It’s even less likely that we’ve slept together. Not then, and not now."
Afraid the paranoid man wouldn’t believe her, she added, "I would never be unfaithful to you during our marriage."
’She wasn’t like him.’
She had neither the ti nor the inclination for a so-called extramarital affair.
The car finally slowed to a normal speed.
When they reached the next intersection, he hit the brakes. "Get out."
Natalie Morgan didn’t ask why.
Her legs were trembling so badly that when she pushed open the door, she was so unsteady on her feet that she nearly fell out.
The man in the car showed no pity whatsoever.
He revved the engine and sped away. She watched as his car turned into a hospital not far up the road.
She let out a deep breath.
She collapsed onto the curb.
A ssage popped up on her phone.
It was from Mandy Chase. "Natalie, are you ho yet?"
Her fingertips were still trembling from the terrifying ordeal.
She rubbed her listless hands together and laboriously typed a reply: "I’m ho. Don’t worry. Get so rest. Good night."
The mont she hit send, the phone slipped from her fingertips and clattered to the ground.
After nearly half an hour, she finally took off her high heels, carrying them in her hand as she started walking toward the Grant estate.
Her retreating figure looked bleak and desolate.
Utterly alone.
’Theodore won’t be back tonight,’ she thought.
’Wanda Lynch will surely cling to him, not letting him out of her sight for a second.’
But just as she stepped through the front gate, his car screeched to a halt behind her.
She froze in terror.
She instinctively quickened her pace.
Theodore Grant quickly caught up, grabbed her by the wrist, and dragged her inside.
Deciding she was moving too slowly, he simply swept her up into his arms.
His way of taking her never involved any foreplay.
It was more like a release.
A release of anger, or perhaps, of carnal need.
Her ordeal only ended when she heard his heavy, ragged breaths by her ear.
He took a shower, then leaned against the headboard, smoking a cigarette.
Natalie Morgan limped toward the bathroom.
He glanced over. "What’s wrong with your foot?"
"Nothing." She didn’t want to elaborate.
He frowned. "Co here. Let see."
"It’s fine. I’m going to take a shower."
He stubbed out his cigarette, got out of bed, scooped her up from behind, and placed her on the large bed.
Her feet were covered in a dense layer of blood blisters.
He asked in surprise, "How did this happen?"
"My shoes."
"Go take a shower. When you’re done, I’ll help you with that." He patted her on the back, his touch unprecedentedly gentle.
’This is just a physiological reaction,’ she thought, ’the result of a flood of pleasure-induced hormones after a man gets his release.’
’It isn’t so so-called tenderness.’
’His tenderness would never be for her.’
Natalie Morgan deliberately took a long ti in the shower.
Theodore Grant didn’t have a habit of waiting up for her.
She thought he would be asleep... but he wasn’t.
He patted the spot beside him. "Co here."
Natalie Morgan was compliant most of the ti, and after the terrifying race in the car, she certainly wasn’t stupid enough to provoke him again.
"I can take care of it myself."
"Let ," he said, his voice surprisingly clear.
She couldn’t help but glance at him again.
His large hand gently cradled her foot. With a sterilized silver needle, he gave one of the blisters a light prick, and a bloody fluid oozed out.
Natalie Morgan hissed in pain.
He dabbed it with alcohol before continuing to lance the others. "Just bear with it."
This kind of intimate care, sothing reserved for a husband and wife, made Natalie deeply uneasy.
"It’s Grandfather’s birthday in a few days," he said.
"Oh."
"Grandfather’s health..." He didn’t look up, but his voice faltered. "...is very poor now."
’Very poor’ was his way of telling her it was ti to prepare to give blood.
She instinctively tried to pull her foot away, but he held it fast. "What are you so jumpy for?"
"Theodore Grant, can’t you wait until my mother is better? Until Thomas Morgan is discharged from the hospital? Can’t you take my blood then?"
In the lamplight, her expression was one of desperate, broken pleading.
He couldn’t help but look up at her.
He didn’t say anything, but she guessed he wasn’t going to agree.
He patiently finished treating the blisters on her feet.
Natalie Morgan hugged her knees, her heart filled with sorrow.
She had just lain down when he was on top of her again, his urgency palpable.
His kisses were a relentless storm, leaving her with no choice but to passively endure them.
Her phone rang on the nightstand.
Theodore Grant propped himself up on his arms, panting and still unsated, as he reached for the phone.
"Hello?"
"Theodore, I don’t think your grandfather’s going to make it. You need to get Natalie Morgan to the hospital right away. There’s no ti to waste. Imdiately. Now."
The order from Lucas Grant on the other end of the line was absolute.
Theodore Grant could hear the panic in his voice.
Putting down the phone, he got out of bed. "Get dressed. We’re going to the hospital."
Natalie Morgan didn’t want to go in the slightest.
’Is there really no escape for this ti?’
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