Chapter 302 Oliver, You're So Disgusting
Oliver's tone suddenly got real serious. He grabbed the back of Sarah's head and started kissing her hard, from her red lips to her flushed nose, then down to her neck. His quick breaths gave away a panic he didn't want to admit.
Back then, he was getting back at Sarah. But deep down, he didn't want her to see what a scumbag he really was.
The former heir, after five years in the slammer, now had this gangster vibe. His business manners were just a front. Deep down, he was ruthless, with blood on his hands, and treated women like playthings.
Sarah fought back hard. She didn't want his kiss; even one kiss from him felt filthy. That video not only showed how vile he was but also ruined the pure feelings she once had.
Turns out, Oliver never liked her. If he had even a bit of affection for her, he wouldn't have slept with another woman the night before their wedding.
Turns out, his kindness to her back then was all an act. In his heart, she meant nothing—she wasn't even worth using to satisfy his desires. From start to finish, she was just a tool for him to get back at Dylan.
How ridiculous that Sarah had a kid with such a jerk.
Sarah's voice shook as she said, "Get away! I don't want you!"
But that didn't stop Oliver. He kissed her urgently, desperately wanting to make sure she was still there. When his lips touched her shoulder, Sarah arched her body in resistance, trying to push him away.
But her clothes were still stripped away, revealing her tender skin. Oliver lowered his head and gently kissed her. She was too inexperienced to ever be a match for him.
Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes. Her slender legs kicked weakly, still struggling.
She knew Oliver wanted to control her, to make her accept Ellie and other women, turning her into one of them. But she refused.
She thought, 'Oliver, you're so disgusting. I can't stand it!'
The scene from the video kept flashing before her eyes—Oliver, whom she once deeply loved, passionately making love to Ellie.
Sarah's hand groped around the back of the couch until she found something hard. It was a painting hanging on the wall. She didn't know where she got the strength, but she grabbed it and smashed it hard against Oliver's forehead.
Oliver stopped. Bright red blood slowly trickled down his handsome features, looking shocking.
Sarah curled up, helpless and scared, looking at him. Her clothes were disheveled, her thin sweater pulled up to her waist, exposing her entire tender upper body. Her long pants were pulled down, hanging on her slender ankles.
Olivia heard the commotion and rushed over. As soon as she entered, she saw the shocking scene and screamed, "What’s going on? Mr. Windsor, what happened to your forehead? And Mrs. Windsor, your clothes! Oh my god!"
Oliver watched Olivia's act with a cold detachment. She pretended to support Sarah, showing fake sympathy and offering to bandage Oliver's wound or find a doctor, but she never actually did anything.
How could Oliver not see through it? Olivia didn't like him.
He covered his wound and said lightly, "Take her back to the bedroom to change clothes and make some soup."
Olivia feigned concern as she said, "But Mr. Windsor, what about your wound?"
"I won't die!" Oliver's tone was icy. He grabbed a few tissues, wiped it briefly, and considered it done. After Olivia took Sarah away, he closed the study door and made a quick call to Zoey, who was in Vesper City.
When Zoey got the call, she was stunned. Last night, she heard Ellie was going to be promoted to vice president. But overnight, not only was the VP position gone, but even her manager job was at risk. The black card Oliver had given her was also canceled. In short, Ellie was dumped by Oliver.
Zoey was so shocked she didn't react for a long time.
Oliver repeated himself.
Zoey finally got it—Oliver wasn't joking. She couldn't help but wonder what Ellie had done to piss him off so much. It didn't make sense; Ellie had always known her place.
Zoey didn't dwell on it for long. She nodded and said professionally, "Mr. Windsor, I understand! I'll handle it right away."
Oliver hung up and sat on the couch. He pulled out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, straightened it, and tried to light it, but the lighter wouldn't work. He looked down at the discarded USB drive and the blood-stained copper painting, feeling irritated. He cursed angrily, "Get lost!"
He was fuming, and just then, Ellie called. She cursed over the phone, "Oliver, you bastard! I've been with you for so long. How could you treat me like this?"
Oliver leaned back on the couch, stretched out his long legs, and kicked the scattered laptop on the floor. His voice was calm, "Ellie, I can put up with your occasional outbursts, but you shouldn't have come to Dawnstar, and you definitely shouldn't have let Sarah see that video!"
Ellie sneered, "You care about her? You love her?"
"No!" Oliver's voice grew colder, "I told you, I don't like women who try to take control!"
On the other end, Ellie began to laugh. She laughed as if she didn't care, but in reality, she was laughing at her own foolishness. She had foolishly thought Oliver would marry her.
As long as Sarah cried, Oliver would panic. If that wasn't love, what was it?
Ellie wouldn't tell Oliver that she wanted to see him fall head over heels in love, only to be heartbroken. She wanted his ending to be a thousand times more tragic than hers. She wanted to watch him suffer the agony of unrequited love.
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