Chapter 140 Come on, Let's Hurt Each Other
Frederick stared at her.
Charlotte was drunk, eyes full of pain.
His heart ached.
Did liking him hurt her this much?
Frederick gently touched her lips, his voice soft. "Can we go back to how we were?"
Charlotte lowered her eyes, lashes trembling, and said firmly, "Frederick, I don't want you."
Frederick's fist tightened.
Suddenly, he unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and carried her out of the car.
The night breeze hit their faces.
Charlotte sobered up a bit and realized they were at his apartment.
"Frederick, I want to go home," she said, struggling in his arms, her legs kicking.
Frederick grunted, something in him snapped.
He rushed upstairs and pinned her against the wall by the elevator.
Their bodies pressed together. Even drunk, Charlotte knew not to move; struggling at times like this would only provoke him further.
Her eyes reddened. "Frederick, are you going to force me?"
Frederick was at a loss; she was so hard to win over.
He had thought about giving up.
But he had tasted her tenderness and couldn't let go.
"How could I?" He gently rubbed his nose against hers, pressing closer, teasing her.
He knew what she liked.
Charlotte was both ashamed and angry.
She turned away. "Mr. Hawkins, have some self-respect."
Frederick looked at her, her fair skin tinged with red, eyes moist and bright.
He hadn't seen her for days and missed her.
Frederick usually had restraint; he wouldn't risk gossip in a place like the elevator.
But now he couldn't help it.
He wanted to kiss her.
He pinned her, kissing her deeply, making it hard for her to breathe.
Charlotte resisted fiercely.
She didn't want this!
Desperate, her fingers touched something hard—a painting.
Without thinking, she yanked it down and smashed it over Frederick's head.
The edge was sharp, cutting his forehead.
Blood flowed.
Frederick ignored the wound, just pressed Charlotte, his gaze intense.
There was still desire in his eyes.
Charlotte sobered up in fear.
The 'weapon' fell from her hand. "I didn't mean to," she stammered.
Frederick didn't speak.
Charlotte bit her lip. "I'll take you to the hospital."
Frederick refused, "No need, I can bandage it at home."
"Frederick, let's go to the hospital!" she insisted.
Frederick's gaze was deep.
His fingers brushed her face. "Charlotte, are you afraid to go inside with me? Afraid of the memories or that I'll do something again? Don't worry, I can't do anything in this state!"
Charlotte hesitated.
Frederick let her go, looking indifferent. "You hurt me; that's at least a year in prison!"
Charlotte was furious.
He was so despicable!
Frederick wiped the blood, smiling roguishly, "Or do you want to tell the judge I tried to force myself on you, and that's why you hurt me?"
Charlotte's face tightened.
After a moment, she pressed the elevator button, silently giving in.
Frederick held a tissue to his wound and followed her into the elevator. As it ascended, he suddenly said, "Charlotte, I don't regret it!"
Charlotte didn't look at him.
She stared at the red numbers. "Frederick, this changes nothing!"
She had made up her mind and wasn't budging.
Frederick stayed quiet.
Back at the apartment, Frederick sat on the sofa, looking worn out from the injury.
Charlotte silently took out the first aid kit and placed it in front of him. "Can you bandage it yourself?"
Frederick looked up, staring at her for a long time before saying hoarsely, "I've bled so much, and you don't feel sorry at all?"
Charlotte smiled.
She said nothing, just took out alcohol, gauze, and ointment.
His wound was on his forehead, about the size of a coin.
Luckily, it wasn't deep.
Charlotte poured alcohol on a cotton swab and pressed it to his wound.
Frederick winced, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he held back from crying out.
Crying out now would be embarrassing.
He only made sounds of passion when they made love, and Charlotte always felt turned on when she heard them.
Thinking of those times, Frederick's eyes darkened.
He gently held her hand, his voice hoarse. "Charlotte, we've done it on this sofa."
Charlotte showed no mercy. Her tone was light. "You can bring other women back. Not just the sofa, there are many places for you to enjoy."
He frowned. "I've never brought anyone else back."
Charlotte lowered her eyes and smiled.
He had never brought another woman home; this apartment was clean, no one had slept here except Charlotte.
But in Frederick's heart, there was also a house.
On that lonely island, there was only Katherine.
Charlotte didn't say more; they had broken up, and it was pointless to talk about it.
She finished bandaging him. "If it gets infected tomorrow, you'll still have to go to the hospital."
She washed her hands and prepared to leave.
Frederick grabbed her arm. "Don't go!"
He hugged her from behind. "Charlotte, stay with me."
Charlotte's body stiffened slightly.
She gently broke free. "Frederick, I made it clear, we're done."
Frederick said, "I'm hungry, make me some spaghetti."
Charlotte took out her phone. "I'll order takeout for you."
Frederick knocked her phone away. "You want an injured person to eat takeout? Besides, who knows what might happen with the wound on my head. Ms. Russell, if something happens to me, you won't escape responsibility."
Charlotte knew these were all his schemes, but he had a point.
She couldn't ignore him.
If he turned a minor injury into a major one and blamed her, what could she do?
Charlotte thought about it and decided not to leave.
She picked up her phone, switched to the camera, and took a picture of Frederick.
Frederick asked, "What are you doing?"
Charlotte replied calmly, "Taking a photo for evidence, in case of any disputes later."
Frederick was furious.
Charlotte put away her phone and softly said, "Tonight means nothing!"
He said nothing, just walked to the balcony, looking out at the nightscape.
Charlotte watched his back, looking at the Morning Dew, her eyes welling up with tears.
She had experienced great joy because of him and had been cherished.
Frederick turned around and saw the sadness in Charlotte's eyes that she couldn't hide in time.
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