Chapter 187 Darling, I Won't Insist on Your Stay
Yet, logic swiftly reasserted itself.
She seized his hand, pleading, "Don't."
"You are my wife."
"You vowed we'd wait until everything was laid bare."
"Darling, I may have said I wouldn't insist on your stay, but that doesn't imply I'm content with being ignorant of my wife's essence."
"But..."
"I desire you."
His intentions were laid bare.
With utmost sincerity and an aura that seemed to stake a claim, Victoria Kensington's heart pounded with dread. "I can't endure this; you can't treat me this way."
Her only recourse was to rebuff him as placidly as she could.
"Why not?" he probed.
"Because I simply don't," she countered, her voice escalating. "I don't even desire your presence in my bed, in my home, I don’t want you..."
She found herself spilling her defiance in a single breath.
Then his phone rang once more.
Alexander Harrington abruptly rose from her, glanced at the caller ID with a resigned sigh, and disconnected the call.
"You should leave, go to her," she suggested, turning away to clutch her clothes tightly around her.
In the darkness, Alexander couldn't discern anything clearly, but he felt his dignity being crushed.
Yet, she continued to repel him.
His phone rang again; he responded curtly, "Hello? I'll be there shortly."
With that, he rose.
She heard the sounds of him dressing, the distinctive click of his belt being secured.
"Just leave, since you're commanded to," he uttered before departing.
Victoria Kensington's heart constricted.
It was evident he had intended to leave from the start, but he shifted the blame onto her.
If only he would genuinely heed her wishes.
Alexander Harrington exited her modest apartment.
She heard the door shut behind him and then compelled herself to succumb to sleep.
His absence was for the best. Now she could finally find peace.
---
The nightclub on the eighteenth floor was abuzz, with people still thronging the private room.
Alexander Harrington forced his way through the door to a scene of men and women engaged in song and drink.
William Sullivan and Edward Sinclair spotted him first. "Time to clear out, folks," William declared.
The long-legged women in mini skirts swiftly dispersed.
Alexander then entered, his expression unyielding.
Tony noticed the tension and queried, "What brings you here so late?"
"Seems like someone's disgruntled. Didn't Isabella Montgomery yield to your whims?" William jested.
Edward Sinclair and Benjamin Beaumont exchanged a fleeting, concerned look at William's audacious assumption.
Sebastian Montague, seated off to the side, hastily extinguished his cigarette.
In Alexander Harrington's presence, an unseen pressure demanded respect.
Observing Sebastian's action, Alexander permitted a small smirk to surface.
William Sullivan instantly assumed his guess was correct, "I've heard the first trimester can be quite taxing, but it usually improves thereafter."
"Really? Since when did you become a connoisseur of women, Sullivan? You wouldn't happen to have a brood of illegitimate children, would you?" Edward Sinclair squeezed William's slender thigh, his voice low but also a subtle caution for him to mind his language.
"How could I? I'm still a virgin," William Sullivan promptly retorted.
Upon hearing this, Alexander Harrington lowered his gaze, and just then, Benjamin Beaumont, mid-smoke, offered him a cigarette, which he accepted.
The two men lit up and after a few puffs, Benjamin Beaumont leaned in and inquired in a hushed tone meant only for them, "Did your lady throw you out?"
"No," Alexander Harrington refuted, his expression composed and earnest.
"The lights were off upstairs when I left tonight. I assumed you must've gone to see her. If she didn’t throw you out, then what?" Benjamin Beaumont shared his rationale, though he wasn't entirely convinced he hadn't been ousted.
Alexander Harrington contemplated the metallic cigarette case on the table.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
