Chapter 143 Trying to Cooperate
Without any preparation, the body was struck by a powerful force, and Ashley reflexively resisted, using her handbag to hit his back, which was then snatched away by him with one hand and thrown to the ground with brute force, disappearing into the unknown.
He bit down with his mouth, exerting force from both the top and bottom, silencing any potential cries for help from her. She had no time to care about her clothes, only hearing the sound of fabric tearing. His large hands stripped away her coat, and the buttons on her blouse flicked open, disappearing into thin air.
Terrified, Ashley bit back fiercely, but a sudden pain in her lower jaw made it impossible for her to close her mouth.
All of this happened in just a few seconds, but to Ashley, it felt longer than half a century.
She knew the assailant in front of her was Damian, but the fear that arose from the depths of her heart still crawled all over her body. Amidst the anger, she was more afraid, so much so that for a few moments, she didn't know how to react.
Breathing raggedly, her back rubbed painfully against the wall, she felt drained of courage and strength, her body going limp.
She couldn't even scream, let alone make a sound.
At that moment, she experienced what a vast power difference meant, what helplessness in seeking aid felt like. She understood why girls, when faced with danger outside, often lacked the strength to fight back.
Damian locked her hands. He pressed against her from behind, using his body to control her. She couldn't break free at all; every attempt to stretch out was met with the painful friction against the limestone wall.
Assessing her threshold of tolerance, Damian halted, gradually freeing the quivering woman from his hold. Her breathing, already erratic, misted his face in an arrhythmic pattern, a blend of fury and fear evident within.
Turns out, the stubborn and skillful demeanor she displayed wasn't as strong as she claimed; her vulnerable appearance was that of a woman in need of protection
Why pretend to be strong?
Ashley didn't know what was going through his mind. After taking a deep breath to compose himself, Ashley retaliated by punching his chest. Ashley shouted, "Are you crazy?"
Damian flicked the loose strands of hair on her face, damp with sweat from her earlier struggles, revealing that she had exerted all her strength. Damian said, "This is the absolute power disparity, Ashley, got it?"
Gradually adjusting to the darkness, Ashley could barely make out those blue eyes, as mysterious as a dark reef, hiding an unknown number of secrets. She said, "We're recreating a scene here, not asking you actually to play out a rape."
Her chest heaving with anger, she couldn't find the words to continue.
Damian took off his suit jacket, draping it over her shoulders. The oversized garment enveloped most of her, making her small face look even smaller.
He said, "Forcing someone is never a negotiated action; it's always a sudden attack, catching an unguarded woman off balance in self-defense; the response isn't much different. Combine that with your reactions and think about the victim, and you'll probably draw a conclusion."
Ashley tugged at her clothing, wrapping herself more tightly to cover all the exposed areas. He was clearly taking advantage of the situation, pretending it was all part of the act. "So I should thank you? For your enthusiastic cooperation in my performance. You've worked hard." she said sarcastically.
Damian spoke softly, "If the gratitude isn't sincere, then you don't need to express it. I hope you're not cursing me in your heart."
You're right; you know yourself too well!
With a cold face, Ashley asked, "Where's my bag?"
Frowning, Damian turned his phone back on, found the bag, and began putting the scattered items back in. He noticed that the powder case was broken and couldn't find the cap for one of the lipsticks.
Ashley said, "Don't bother looking. It broke today at the district court entrance; I didn't pick it up."
Damian was already aware of what had happened at the district court entrance, as Thomas had reported it to him. He asked, "How do you want to handle that young police officer?"
Ashley shrugged, "Isn't the policeman already in the detention center? It's not my turn to act yet; I want to finalize the defense strategy quickly."
With no discoveries at the scene, as night fell, anger replaced fear, but the underlying sense of dread remained. Walking out, Ashley said, "Tomorrow, I'll visit the police department. With the scant evidence I have, I want to mount a defense of innocence, a strategy so strong that the opposition can't overturn it. The court officials are adamant that my client is the culprit. They're just looking to quickly find a scapegoat to close the case so as not to jeopardize the future of those politicians. With a deadline from higher-ups to solve the case, they're scrambling for solutions."
Damian remarked, "I thought you'd fully support the legal system, but it seems you haven't completely turned into a fool yet."
Anyone who has survived in the legal profession has seen the darker side of things and understands that the world is not just black and white.
Ashley had been disappointed and had felt cold-hearted, but she believed that justice would prevail.
Ashley said, "If everyone thought like that, if no one became a lawyer and no one stepped up to defend the little light we have left, this world would be beyond saving."
Damian opened the car door, got in, and said, "I hope you can hold on till the end."
He was hoping that her meager sense of justice could endure until retirement.
The quiet, enclosed space provided a sense of security, allowing Ashley to relax, realizing her palms were sweaty. "I don't know what the future holds, so I'll focus on the present," she said.
This time, Ashley couldn't refuse Damian's request. Damian drove her to the residential area where she lived and parked outside.
Glancing inside, Damian noted it was a mid-range neighborhood, average in the environment but well-equipped with amenities for convenient living. Damian said, "Self-reliance sounds somewhat promising."
Ashley got out of the car, not letting him escort her inside. "A woman's value lies in her independence. Thanks for the praise, Damian," she said.
Walking briskly as if on level ground, she soon reached her residence. At that moment, she was grateful that Damian had broken her heel.
Pressing the elevator button, her hands trembled. Tonight had truly frightened her, with waves of aftershock, to the point where she forgot she was still wearing Damian's coat.
Regretful, with a headache, should she return the clothes or not?
Entering her home, she took a shower, finally calming her chaotic thoughts.
Seeing the suit on the chair, Ashley picked it up and rubbed it, intending to throw it in the trash. However, the texture in her hands involuntarily reminded her of that proud face.
The stimulating friction against her body, the tense breath, the overwhelming intimidation, and the strong hormones all rushed into her nervous system along with her calm mind. Her heart raced, and her face suddenly grew hot.
Gritting her teeth, she ruthlessly stuffed the coat, along with her torn clothes, into a plastic bag and tossed it into the hanging cabinet above the shoe rack.
The next day, she arrived early at the law firm.
She turned her analysis of the scene from last night into a report and then went to find Hendrix.
Hendrix's face was still swollen, slightly better than yesterday. But he didn't hold back, casually remarking to Ashley. "Didn't sleep well? Why do you look so terrible?" he said.
Handing him the report, Ashley said, "I've seen the scene; some evidence needs to be retrieved from the police department. Can you arrange for me to see the body?"
After reading the report, Hendrix's face looked even worse than yesterday. He said, "How do you know what a woman looks like when she's been raped? Are you going to reconstruct the scene? With whom? A man or a woman?"
