Phoebe's body jolted as she turned to look towards the doorway. There stood Theodore, his features sharp and handso, but his expression was exceptionally dark, his piercing gaze sinking her heart. She quickly pushed Edward away, looking at him helplessly.
A flicker of hurt passed through Edward's eyes. Seeing Theodore step into the room, he instinctively positioned himself in front of Phoebe, watching Theodore warily. "What do you want?"
Theodore's thin lips parted slightly, his voice cool as he uttered two icy words, "Move aside!"
He towered over Edward by several inches, looking down at him, an oppressive aura emanating from him.
"Theodore, I'm telling you, I won't let you hurt Phoebe," Edward declared with a bold confidence.
If he hadn't been blinded by jealousy and resentnt back then, if he hadn't abandoned Phoebe when she needed him most, she wouldn't have married Theodore.
A sneer flashed across Theodore's lips. "Mr. Vanderbilt, don't overestimate yourself. When Phoebe was your girlfriend, you couldn't protect her. How can you do so now when she's my wife? What concern is it of yours if we argue and then make up?"
The taunt was not lost on Edward; he turned red with rage, grabbing Theodore's collar, his voice a ferocious roar, "You're nothing but a sanctimonious opportunist."
Theodore's eyes narrowed.
Phoebe knew this was bad.
Having been by Theodore's side for three years, she understood every subtle expression of his. At this mont, his mood was severely foul, and if Edward kept provoking him, they might co to blows.
"Edward, you should go," said Phoebe.
"Phoebe, I..."
She pursed her lips, interrupting him, "Thank you for visiting today. From now on, don't worry about , we both need to move on."
Edward paled, instantly understanding her aning. Stubbornly, he said, "I don't want to move on."
After speaking, he dashed off like a child in a huff, afraid Phoebe would say sothing more that couldn't be undone. Phoebe watched his retreating figure, a pang of loss washing over her.
Theodore caught the look of desolation on her face and scoffed, "If you're so reluctant, why don't you chase after him?"
Every ti Phoebe laid eyes on him, her blood boiled. She sat down by the bedside, her gaze icy, "What are you doing here?"
Theodore stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes drooping under her frosty deanor. The sight of her so cold just made his teeth itch with irritation.
"I wouldn't miss this thrilling show," he said with a hard voice, his eyes stabbing at her like sharp daggers.
Phoebe felt a shiver in her heart, unwilling to et his reddened eyes.
In the next second, he grabbed her chin, his scorching breath showering her face with a surge of anger, "Can't look at , are you feeling guilty?" "Theodore, don't push too far!"
"So what if I am pushing you?" Theodore shoved her onto the bed, viciously ripping off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.
"Looks like you've been pretty lonely without these past few days."
Phoebe saw the sparks of rage and desire dancing in his eyes, which frightened her more than ever, and she struggled to escape.
Just as she squird from under his arm, he yanked her back by her hair, throwing her onto the bed again.
"Ow..." Phoebe's head knocked against the corner of the bed, blackening her vision from the pain.
Theodore paused for a mont, stiffening as he leaned over to check where she had been hurt. But Phoebe, thinking he was going to continue tornting her, slapped him hard across the face. The slap resonated with a crisp "smack."
Theodore froze.
Phoebe froze.
Even Mrs. Ziegler, returning from handling the discharge procedures, froze in the doorway of the room.
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