Chapter 22 A Bowl of Soup Worth $100,000
The Montague family manor was all lit up. Servants bustled around, setting out hearty dishes and filling up the dining table.
Seraphina watched them eat. Worried Henry might not feel well later, she had the kitchen whip up some tonic for him and a special one for Grace, placing a full bowl in front of her.
Seraphina grinned and said, "I've done the math! Tonight's the night you'll conceive for sure."
Even though Grace had been married for three years, she couldn't help but blush at such personal talk, especially with the servants around.
Henry glanced at her. Without missing a beat, he said to Seraphina, "Then I'll have to put in some effort later so you can hold your great-grandchild soon."
Seraphina's smile widened, as if the great-grandchild was already here. She served Henry another bowl of soup. "This soup's been simmering for hours. Drink it while it's hot; it's good for a man's strength."
Henry's expression didn't change. Grace thought he was really good at pretending. In their three years of marriage, he always made her use birth control after their intimate moments. He didn't want kids at all, but in front of Seraphina, he played along.
Noticing Grace's gaze, Henry looked over at her, then wiped his lips with a napkin. "Seraphina, it's getting late. Grace and I will head upstairs now."
Seraphina urged him, "Go on, go on!"
After that, Seraphina went to pray, muttering complaints about Aurora not caring about Henry having kids. Knowing Henry and Grace were back, she still went to bed early. Outrageous!
Henry grabbed Grace's wrist and led her upstairs. Once in the master bedroom, Grace yanked her hand away, her tone cold. "Well, I've played along with your act. Can you let go of me now?"
Henry tightened his grip, pulling her into his arms. He looked down at her, his nose brushing against hers as he spoke in a low, husky voice, "We've had the tonic, why not make love? It's been so long, Grace. I don't believe you don't want it."
In private, Henry finally showed his true colors. He said Seraphina wanted to see her, but it might have been a pretext. He just wanted to trick her into coming back for physical intimacy, making Grace both ashamed and angry.
Henry seized her hand, guiding it to touch him. Grace thought he was out of his mind, but her body reminded her of its own desires, long accustomed to his touch.
Henry pressed her hand and leaned close to her ear, whispering seductively, "Do you want it? If you do, I can satisfy you right now."
In the past, if he had acted this way, Grace would have embraced him, yielding her body and kissing him, as Henry's tenderness was rare. But now, she felt despair, realizing she had wasted three years in a loveless marriage.
Grace clenched her hand into a fist, lowering her head and breathing lightly against his shoulder. With deliberate intent, she said something to kill the mood. "Henry, if you really want it, you can ask Elodie to take care of it. I don't mind. Besides, we're getting divorced soon."
Henry let her go, stepping back to study her indifferent expression.
She really didn't care! A woman who cared about her husband wouldn't say something like that. Henry had never been physically attracted to Elodie, but in his anger, he didn't feel like explaining.
He sneered, "Grace, you're really something now!"
With that, he left her and went to take a cold shower.
Ten minutes later, Henry came out of the bathroom to see Grace laying a thin blanket on the sofa, clearly planning to sleep there. His anger flared up again. Without thinking, he picked Grace up and threw her onto the soft bed, following her down.
Grace buried her face in the pillow. Henry didn't want to touch her because he was angry. Just as he was about to let go, Grace's phone chimed with a social media notification.
Henry frowned, asking, "Who's messaging you this late?"
Grace, in pain from his weight, snapped, "None of your business!"
Henry chuckled coldly, pressing her shoulder as he reached for the nightstand. With a swift motion, he unlocked her phone using her fingerprint.
Grace felt humiliated and retorted, "Henry, you have no right to do this!"
Ignoring her, he stared at the message, his face darkening. The message was from Lucas, just a night scene photo with no text. Nothing flirtatious. But as adults, they both knew what it meant. Only someone who admired a woman would share something with her late at night.
Henry stared at the photo for a long moment before looking down at Grace. Her face was buried in the pillow, her nose red, even her sobs had a subtle allure that explained why she attracted so many men.
He tossed the phone aside and leaned in close, whispering in her ear, "He messaged you at this hour! Tell me, how far have you two gone, hmm?"
As he spoke, he lifted her body, roughly handling her, knowing her weak spots. Grace lay on the pillow, struggling but unable to break free, letting him have his way. She stubbornly bit her lip, refusing to beg for mercy, only letting out sharp cries when he went too far.
Her forehead glistened with sweat as she endured his torment, looking pitiful. This was the real Henry, the essence of their marriage. His prior tenderness had been a facade; he derived pleasure from tormenting her in bed.
Grace remained silent, fueling Henry's anger. His voice was low, tinged with anger. "Tell me, how far have you two gone? Have you kissed? Has he touched you? If you don't speak, I have ways to make you talk!"
Grace finally couldn't hold back, crying under him. "No! No! Henry, I haven't!"
Henry stopped. He gazed down at Grace in his arms, her fragile face flushed, tears at the corners of her eyes, looking pitiful. Unable to resist, he licked away her tears.
Grace flinched, thinking he was going to torment her again. Her eyes were vacant, lips slightly parted, her voice hoarse. "Never! There's nothing between us."
Henry cupped her face and kissed her. His hand tangled in her hair, kissing her deeply. Grace didn't struggle, she blinked lightly, still in a daze. She looked so obedient, Henry couldn't help but kiss her more, his hand moving to untie her robe, ready to make love to her.
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