Chapter137 Shattered Vase
Winona Sullivan's eyes widened in terror as she twisted her head, trying to dodge the man's heavy-handed kiss. Her voice piercing the air, "Zachary Bailey, let me go, you madman!"
Her frayed nerves unleashed a relentless barrage of words, pelting him while she fiercely struggled. Head shaking fiercely, Zachary Bailey's attempts to recapture her lips were deftly avoided.
He watched with cold amusement as she verged on collapse. He pinned her hands above her head, binding them with a loosely tied necktie.
A relentless shower of kisses left a trail of red marks on her neck.
Today, Winona worn pants, but under Zachary Bailey's vicious assault, they proved no different than a skirt—both torn away with the same disregard.
"You should be with Fiona Clark," exclaimed Winona, her emotions high. "You've been involved in scandals with her, wrangled investments for her and I never interfered. Austin just happened to save me tonight, our innocence far surpasses what you have with Fiona Clark..."
The sound of fabric tearing pierced the air, making the solitary screams in the living room even more palpable.
The strength required to rip through sturdy denim was beyond Winona Sullivan's imagination; such force seemed monstrous.
Zachary Bailey let out a hollow laugh, void of any true mirth, "You're lucky you and Austin are innocent. Otherwise, he'd be the one lying there instead of you tonight."
Winona kicked at him frantically, but her legs were trapped under Zachary Bailey's weight, inflicting no real damage.
"With all your prowess, why didn’t you just claim Fiona Clark? Why obsess over me, your wife in name only?" she spat with venom.
Under normal circumstances, she would never provoke him like this. But in the face of her dismal predicament, she knew this madman Zachary Bailey wouldn't spare her regardless of what she did.
Zachary Bailey's presence was heavy with an intoxicating masculinity that now permeated the air. His touch, rough and forceful, left Winona Sullivan shaken as the tumult of desire and anger roiled beneath his cool facade, making the threat of his restraint even more alarming.
His words trickled out slowly, as if he had to force each one up from his throat: “But right now, I really want to be with you.”
They were nearly touching now, with hardly anything between them.
A vast sea of despair rose up like a tide, threatening to pull Winona Sullivan under into an abyss.
She wrapped her arms desperately around Zachary Bailey's arm, pushing fiercely against him—
Crash—
They toppled from the couch together...
Zachary Bailey landed beneath her, his back slamming hard against the floor.
Winona Sullivan, looking down at him, bit into the man's shoulder ferociously, intending to tear a chunk away. Blood welled up, its metallic taste spreading through her mouth. She couldn't help it and turned away, gagging violently.
Throughout, he seemed impervious to pain, not so much as furrowing his brow, until Winona started to heave. That's when his expression changed, his hand reaching out to pat her back...
But before he could touch her, Winona scrambled up like a cornered animal and retreated several steps.
"Don't come any closer!"
Her hand snatched up a decorative vase from the table, brandishing it with a clear message: take one more step and it’s going over your head.
Her stance was resolute.
Zachary Bailey watched her steadily and stood, taking slow but deliberate steps toward her, "Planning to kill me?”
Winona's hands were shaking uncontrollably, from fear, exertion—it was impossible to tell. "Just—Don't move."
She brought the vase down hard against the table, shattering it. In that brief moment, Zachary had closed the distance and grabbed her wrist.
The pain shot through Winona, causing her to let go instinctively. The vase hit the floor, and her threat vanished.
Zachary pulled her away from the shattered glass, sparing her from possible cuts. Underneath his palm, her muscles trembled with tension.
He sighed, resigning his turbulent thoughts, and tenderly wiped the tears from her face, slowly unraveling the knots in his tie. "I'm sorry, I lost control."
Winona glared back at him, red-eyed and guarded.
"Go back to your room and rest."
"No, I'm leaving!"
All she wanted was to get as far from this man as possible. Who knew when he might lose control again? As for the hurt and humiliation, she'd chalk it up to a mad dog's bite.
Zachary Bailey’s face was an impenetrable mask of frost, but his voice betrayed his frustration, every word biting and tense, "I won't touch you."
"You think I'd believe you?"
An ensuing hush fell over the living room...
Lips pursed, Zachary looked as if he was on the brink of exploding; his forehead veins bulged from the sheer force of his attempt at restraint.
Granting such an assurance was as far as he could compromise. For a fleeting second, that suppressed, itching urge began to stir once more within him.
He found himself wrestling with the notion of taking her regardless of her tears, struggles, fears, or pleas, just following his own impulses. After all, she was his lawfully wedded wife, and claiming her would only be an exercise of a husband's rights.
Yet the sight of the tear streaks still drying on Winona Sullivan’s cheeks softened his resolve. "Go change. I'll drive you home," he offered, gentler this time.
Though her clothes weren't entirely in tatters, they were barely covering her, especially her pants.
Winona Sullivan still resisted, "No need, I'll just wear my coat. Let one of the bodyguards take me home."
Her long down coat reached her calves; wrapped tightly, it concealed enough, albeit she felt a chill.
Had she not been physically held by Zachary Bailey, she would have kept her distance long ago. How could she let him lay a hand on her otherwise?
Zachary Bailey scoffed, holding her chin to force eye contact, "You think you're in a position to negotiate? You either spend the night here, or get changed and I'll drive you home."
Eventually, Winona Sullivan ascended the stairs to quickly freshen up and put on fresh clothes, then was escorted back by Zachary Bailey.
The car ride was silent, the atmosphere heavy, even the bodyguard in the front seat didn't dare utter a sound.
Upon arrival at the apartment building, Winona Sullivan bolted out the door like she was fleeing.
Zachary Bailey massaged the bridge of his nose and then instructed the bodyguard ready to step out, "Keep a close watch on her these next few days."
With a prompt "Yes, sir," the bodyguard hastened after Winona Sullivan...
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