Chapter 165 Could Forty Thousand Dollars Win You Over?
Harper was thrown onto the sofa, and due to the pain in her abdomen, her words were weak.
"What exactly do you want to do?"
"What do you think?"
Francis' face was cold, and his chest had already been half-exposed, which revealed well-defined abs as his long, beautiful fingers continued to unbutton his shirt.
What he intended to do was evident.
"Don't you dare!" Harper's emotions flared up.
"It seems you don't know me well enough."
Francis curled his lips and pressed her down onto the soft sofa. His voice was hoarse. "I'll show you if I dare or not."
Harper was pinned down on the sofa, and she couldn’t escape.
His lips descended, and Harper turned her face away. Her eyes reddened as she spoke with extreme hatred, "Francis, if you really do this, I will never let you off."
Hearing her words, Francis suddenly curled his lips and laughed.
But there was a hint of self-mockery in his smile.
"Keep that in mind. Don't ever let me off."
He lowered his head and bit her sharp chin to leave a mark on her face.
A mark that would let others know at a glance that she was his woman.
Francis felt a particular hatred for her now, hating how quickly she had detached herself from their relationship.
He had never seen a woman more cold-blooded and heartless than her.
She said she didn't love him anymore, and she found a boyfriend so soon.
She showed no sadness or reluctance, leaving the past behind with ease and starting anew.
She was truly ruthless!
After biting her chin, Francis scrutinized her and questioned, "Did he give you money? What, forty thousand dollars was all it took to win you over?"
Harper slightly clenched her palm and found it somewhat laughable.
He was angry, but it turned out it was because of the forty thousand dollars.
He thought the money was given to her by another man.
How pathetic! Even after the divorce, he still looked down on her.
She raised her eyes, met his angry gaze with a mocking smile, and replied, "Back then, you won me over without spending a penny. Now I've got forty thousand, which means I became more expensive."
Her words successfully broke Francis' composure.
He actually laughed in anger, sneering, "Has your body recovered well enough to start looking for a new boyfriend? If that's the case, I'll give you a million dollars, and you can obey me and make love with me as I want."
His words were even harsher, full of sarcasm, and implying she was a prostitute.
"Francis, you're a bastard."
Harper's eyes reddened. But she couldn't come up with more curse words and was only able to call him a bastard.
Seeing her reddened eyes, Francis' heart wavered. He felt both pain and hatred for her.
Suppressing his reluctance, he said coldly, "I was never a good man. It's not too late for you to realize that now."
With that, he kissed her again, like a wild beast gone mad, biting and sucking on her neck and collarbone without care.
Harper only felt her whole body trembling and powerless to resist.
His eyes were bloodshot, and his entire being was filled with restless anger. It had been a long time since he last made love with her, and now it felt like a beast was awakening inside him uncontrollably.
He started to tear off her obstructive nightgown, but when he looked up, he saw her face full of tears.
Instantly, his heart seemed to be stirred by something, and his handsome brows trembled uncontrollably.
He thought of how disdainful she was towards him and couldn't help but mock, "Now you're scared? You were quite bold when you threw thirty dollars at me."
Yes, it was that money that made him even angrier.
She had called him a gigolo, who was worth only thirty dollars.
If he really were a gigolo who was worth only thirty dollars, women would line up for him.
But she didn't cherish him at all.
He said bitterly, "I should have taken your money and made love with you in the bathroom."
Harper didn't want to argue with him. She felt so uncomfortable and so painful.
She clutched her cramping abdomen, buried her head in the sofa, curled up, and groaned, "My belly hurts."
Seeing her curled up in pain, Francis' expression changed instantly.
Without any hesitation, he bent down to pick her up and started walking out.
Harper clutched his sleeve, her face covered in a cold sweat. "Put me down. I need to go to the bathroom."
"You need to go to the hospital," Francis refused without a second thought.
"I'm on my period."
Harper explained weakly, "Let me go to the bathroom."
Francis paused for a moment but didn't put her down and carried her directly to the bathroom.
After opening the door, he set Harper down and reached to lift her skirt.
Startled, Harper tightly clutched his sleeve, asking, "What are you doing?"
Francis frowned at her. "Can you manage on your own?"
Harper was helpless.
But he didn't need to help to take off her underwear.
Her face turned red and her ears too. She lowered her head and said, "Get out!"
Francis didn't insist and turned to leave. While waiting outside, the delivery man arrived with painkillers.
After more than ten minutes, Harper came out of the bathroom, and before her feet could touch the ground, he picked her up again.
She was startled and quickly raised her head.
"Francis..."
"I'm taking you to bed," Francis said.
Harper still felt uncomfortable, so she didn't struggle and let him do as he pleased.
Francis placed her on the bed, helped her take off her shoes, and handed her the freshly opened medicine and hot water.
The painkillers didn't take effect immediately, and Harper lay on her side while clutching her abdomen, looking haggard.
Francis adjusted the pillows to make her more comfortable, looked down at her, and asked, "Did it hurt this much before?"
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