Chapter 473 Losing Control
Jackson finished talking and headed upstairs. When he got to the bedroom, he saw Lillian at the vanity, taking off her heavy stage makeup.
He quickly noticed the pink diamond necklace on the table.
Lillian picked up another cotton pad and saw Jackson's reflection in the mirror. He stood behind her, looking cold and stern.
She knew he was mad, but she was annoyed too. Ignoring him, she kept removing her makeup.
Jackson grabbed her shoulder, pinched her chin, and stared at her. "Don't like the jewelry I gave you, but you seem to love the cheap flowers and handkerchief from another guy?"The bouquet from Ambrose had been crushed and later tossed into the trash with the handkerchief before Jackson got in the car.
At that moment, Lillian was intensely displeased—not with the flowers or the handkerchief themselves, but because Jackson had humiliated her in front of her colleagues, showing her no respect.
His gaze was dangerous, and Lillian felt a pang of fear. Frowning, she tried to explain, "Let go of me! I need to shower. Do I really have to keep this necklace on?"
"Lillian, stop playing me for a fool!" Jackson snapped.
He thought, 'Do I not know if she likes or dislikes something?'
Lillian fell silent, thinking, 'Who is really playing games here?'
Her silence seemed to suggest she preferred the flowers from Ambrose.
Jackson gripped her hand tightly, forcing her to look up, then leaned in and kissed her fiercely. A raging fire burned in his heart, fully ignited by her behavior.
His frustration and jealousy only grew as Lillian continued to turn away, refusing to cooperate.
He bit her lip hard and let his kisses rain down on her pale neck, each one leaving a mark of possession.
Lillian's eyes filled with tears, a mix of pain and fear. "Jackson, what are you doing? Get off me!"
But Jackson only tightened his grip on her waist, lifting her off the chair and turning her to face him with a mocking grin. "Finally done calling me Mr. Frane, huh?"
With a sweep of his arm, he sent bottles and jars crashing to the floor.
In the next moment, Lillian was forced onto the vanity, her back pressed against the mirror. Her clothes were ripped apart, and Jackson's large hand and heated kisses roamed her body relentlessly.
Marks immediately began to appear on her skin.
With another performance coming up in just a couple of days, Lillian was on the brink of madness, struggling against him.
"Damn it! I have to perform on stage!
"Jackson, you're hurting me!
"Jackson, stop it. Let me go."
Her voice shifted from anger to helplessness, trembling with fear and a hint of desperation.
She was genuinely frightened and anxious, filled with regret. She shouldn't have let Star's manipulations drive her to provoke Jackson so uncontrollably.
And perhaps because she had finalized her plan, she could no longer maintain the pretense.
But Jackson had never lost control like this before. Even in bed, he was usually restrained, only leaving marks when driven by intense passion.
Now, it felt like he was tearing her apart with a ruthless fury, showing no mercy.
"Jackson, please stop."
Finally, as Jackson tore away her last piece of clothing and lifted her leg, Lillian, terrified, reached out to touch Jackson's grim profile.
Jackson abruptly stopped, his anger fading as he began to regain his composure. He looked at her, battered and humiliated in the narrow reflection of the mirror.
His face paled, his eyes filled with anguish. He lifted his hand, covering her eyes with it.
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