Chapter 221 Torrential Challenges
Ava moved swiftly, creating a chasm between them. Her face was etched with caution as she questioned, "What are you doing?"
"Didn't you instruct me to rest? This is my room, my bed, so naturally, I'm going to lie down!" The man, typically dignified, was now acting with a brazen disregard for decorum, his behavior akin to a mischievous child.
Yet, this impishness, rather than detracting from his appeal, somehow rendered him inexplicably attractive.
"You..." Ava felt the compulsion to rebuke him, but she found herself unable to muster a valid argument.
After all, this was his house, and she was merely a temporary resident, soon to depart following their impending divorce.
"Fine, since this is your room, you sleep here, I'll go."
She resolved to spend the night in the guest room. The state of her relationship with Alexander had deteriorated to such an extent that she was indifferent to spending one last night under his roof.
As Ava prepared to vacate the bed, her wrist was abruptly seized with a firm grip.
She turned her head to find his large hand clamped around her wrist. She attempted to wriggle free, but his hold only tightened.
Ava furrowed her brows, echoing her earlier question, "What are you doing?"
Alexander noted that Ava always seemed to question his intentions whenever he made a move towards her.
What was he doing?
He was her husband, yet she regarded him as a stranger, suspecting him of harboring ulterior motives, viewing him as a predator poised to strike.
"I'm your husband, anything I do is perfectly natural!" He declared, suddenly forcing Ava back onto the bed, his weight bearing down on her.
His large hand gripped her chin, the pressure escalating until it threatened to distort her delicate features.
"Don't look at me as if I'm about to eat you. Even if I did, so what?"
He released her chin, unbuttoned his shirt, allowing it to fall open. His chest rose and fell with such intensity that Ava could hear the rhythmic pounding of his heart from a distance.
His eyes, ablaze with a heat that threatened to ignite her.
Ava's heart pounded with trepidation. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling with unease, "We're getting divorced tomorrow, don't—"
"Don't what?" Alexander interjected, "Don't kiss you, don't touch you, don't share a bed with you?"
Ava gripped the bedsheets beneath her, "Exactly. And don't forget about Isabella's situation. You made a promise to marry her."
"I did make that promise." Alexander's hands were planted on either side of her, his eyes flashing with determination, "But nowhere did I say I wouldn't touch you before the divorce."
A mischievous smirk danced on his lips, "If we check the time, we've still got several hours left."
The intent in his eyes sent a wave of anxiety coursing through Ava, her instincts warning her of the potential danger.
She dared not provoke Alexander; with alcohol coursing through his veins, a drunken man was capable of reckless actions.
The silence stretched between them until Ava's vision blurred, her eyes misting with unshed tears. Her voice, soft and resonant like the waters of a tranquil lake in autumn, was filled with sorrow as she murmured, "Alex."
She raised her hand, gently tracing the faint scar that marred his forehead. The mark was a remnant of that day in the hospital when, in an attempt to shield her from harm, he had intercepted a vase thrown in their direction.
The wound had mostly healed after several days of rest, but up close, the evidence of the incident was still visible.
