Chapter 98 Did You Hire Psychologists to Deal with Me? [2]
Grace looked up and met Henry's eyes. His gaze was darker than night, and she couldn't figure out what he was thinking.
After a moment, he asked calmly, "Did you see it?"
Grace pointed to the stuff on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. "You hired psychologists to study me, to manipulate me? Henry, what am I to you? A wife or your toy? You say you like me, but your 'liking' feels like stripping me bare for analysis."
"You bought a dog to please me! I thought you understood me, but it was just because of the psychological analysis! The dog was just a prop!"
"Everything you did for me was calculated. You even planned when we'd have sex!"
"Henry, you took away my privacy and dignity! You don't actually like me; you just want to possess me! Henry, you don't know how to love!"
Grace finished, tears in her eyes. It was too humiliating!
Every time Grace tried to leave Henry, he would always pull her back, making her believe in his sincerity. She even started to look forward to having his child.
But the truth was harsh. To him, she wasn't a wife but a woman he could easily control. He watched her sink deeper and deeper.
The study was silent.
The floor-to-ceiling window glass had a thin layer of fog, but you could still see the light snow falling outside.
Compared to Grace, Henry always seemed calm. Especially when she said, "Henry, you don't know how to love," his eyes were unreadable.
After a while, he walked into the study, bent down, and picked up the papers.
He put them into the shredder, and amidst the shredding noise, he asked indifferently, "I don't know how to love anyone? Then who does? Lucas?" He watched Grace quietly.
Grace instinctively took a step back.
She had been married to him for years and understood him. Henry now looked very much like when they first got married, silently pressing her onto the bed, using those methods to torment her, conquer her, making her unable to say anything against him.
As soon as she moved, he wrapped his arm around her waist.
Then he threw her onto the dark wooden desk. Because of his rough actions, the hem of her robe rolled up, revealing a slender leg. Her whole posture was undignified!
Henry squeezed himself between her legs, his belt buckle digging painfully into her leg. He showed no tenderness, gripping her chin and forcing her to lift her body.
Grace looked undignified, as if she was offering herself to him, throwing herself into his arms.
Henry pressed tightly against her, staring into her eyes, his words harsh and cruel. "You said plaything?"
"Mrs. Montague, does it take this much effort to deal with a plaything?"
He continued, "Do I need to spend money to help a plaything's brother win a lawsuit? Do I need to carry a plaything's father down ten flights of stairs? Do I need to prioritize a plaything's feelings, even if I really want to have sex with you, and zip up my pants?"
Grace trembled uncontrollably.
Henry lightly pinched her chin, forcing her to open her lips.
He gently touched her lips, his calloused fingertips rubbing against them, quickly making them red and tender, looking undignified.
Henry yanked open her robe, mocking coldly, "Mrs. Montague, you can't have everything! Sure, I had psychologists analyze you and pleased you, but didn't you relish the perks? Your whole family did. Isn't everything you wear and use all from me? Even this sexy robe you use to seduce me was bought with my money!"
The robe fell open, her body soft and smooth under the study lamp.
Henry gripped Grace's waist tightly, even patting her hips humiliatingly, laughing coldly, "Now I'll show you what it really means to be a plaything!"
Grace's face turned pale; she couldn't escape. Under the bright light, she was at his mercy, treated roughly, in ways even the cheapest women wouldn't endure.
The light was harsh and blinding.
Grace's body hurt, but her heart hurt even more. She gripped the edge of the desk tightly, using all her strength to endure Henry's anger.
In her palm, a small hard object pressed painfully.
Unable to bear it, Grace turned her head and released her hand. In her sweat-soaked left palm lay a pair of exquisite cufflinks, but the once dazzling diamonds were now stained with a faint red, a drop of blood from Grace's fingertip.
The wind and snow outside slowly stopped.
At 2:30 A.M, Henry let go of Grace. As he looked at her undignified state, he simply adjusted his shirt and pants.
His phone rang; it was Celeste calling. Henry answered calmly, "I'll be there soon! The meeting continues at 3:30."
As he hung up and left, Grace was still lying on the desk, unmoving. Her body was soft, her long hair spread over Henry's usual paperweight, exuding an irresistible allure.
Perhaps because he had vented, Henry's temper had subsided a bit. He lit a cigarette beside her, took a puff, and his tone was relatively gentle. "Put on your clothes and go back to bed."
Grace remained silent.
He glanced at her again, took his coat, and left. He thought, 'Grace is smart; she knows how to choose. Besides, why take things so seriously as a couple? Those love games of young men and women don't suit us; money, power, and wealth are what matter!'
Long after Henry left, Grace still lay there, motionless; she couldn't move! Her whole body hurt, not just the skin and flesh outside, but her stomach was churning.
Everything tonight made her nauseous! Her former naivety made her nauseous! Because of his sweet words, she easily believed him, believed a Henry who had tormented her and been cold to her for three years.
Henry said he couldn't live without her, but in reality, it was just because she could meet his needs, which were unrelated to love!
He wouldn't love anyone, nor did he intend to!
The affection he gave her, the Sherry he bought for her, were all part of the elaborate cage he built for her. He was sure she wouldn't want to leave because the cage was too comfortable!
Yes! He had a team of psychologists analyze her, deal with her. He knew her thoughts inside out!
Grace gently closed her eyes; she was too tired!
She let herself fall into darkness, telling herself that she was just taking a brief respite, just a moment of rest.
In her dreams, Henry's words echoed repeatedly, entangling her endlessly.
"Mrs. Montague, you can't have everything!"
"Isn't everything you wear and use all from me?"
"Now I'll show you what it really means to be a plaything!"
Grace was covered in cold sweat, muttering incessantly, "No! No! Henry, I don't want to love you anymore!"
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