Chapter 218: Will Hate You Forever
In the bathtub.
Matthew's shirt was half-covered, and the thin fabric, which was already wet, clung to his body, clearly revealing the scenery on his chest.
Perhaps disturbed by the noise from the door, he turned his head to look over here, his gaze calm and composed. Moreover, because of his disheveled appearance at the moment, he seemed somewhat sexy.
Winona was leaning against him, her face as pale as paper, it was unclear whether she was freezing or if the effects of the drug hadn't worn off yet. Her eyes seemed dull and her reactions were slower than usual.
Zachary squinted his eyes, his displeasure and intense gloominess almost overflowing from his face. He walked over and directly lifted the woman soaking in cold water.
Matthew held onto his hand. "Can't you see that there's something wrong with her state?"
"If I didn't see it, you wouldn't have a chance to sit here and talk to me," Zachary said coldly, holding Winona in his arms, making it difficult for him to let go.
Matthew stepped out of the bathtub, his bare feet on the dark tiles, his attitude firm. "I won't let you take her out of my sight, at least not tonight."
Zachary sneered in anger. "You won't? By what right do you say that?"
"And what about you? What right do you have to take her away?" Matthew's gentlemanly warmth on his face had completely vanished, replaced by a chilling and piercing cold smile. "Zachary, you and Winona are already divorced. You are now just her ex-husband. Since you are already an ex-husband, it means you no longer have any relationship with her, legally or morally."
Zachary looked at him.
Tension between the two was about to explode.
After a while, he suddenly smiled, lips curling. "Matthew, this is a night club. What makes you think you can stop me on my turf?"
"Then I'll bet that you won't kill me."
It was clear that he meant either leave Winona or cross over his dead body.
"..." Winona tugged at Zachary's sleeve. "Put me down."
Her wet clothes clung to her body, freezing her to shivers. But inside her, it felt like a raging flame was burning. The torment of living in both ice and fire made every nerve in her body ache. She felt completely drained of strength, unable to do anything except cling to him.
Her actions were like those of a cat scratching.
Zachary lowered his head and happened to see Winona's uncomfortable frown. Her body was slightly curled up, unable to bear the discomfort. Her wet hair dripped messily on her face, making her already pale and weak face even more pitiful. This disheveled appearance ignited the fire that had been simmering in Zachary's heart.
He turned and carried Winona out. Matthew had been planning to stop them, but he was stopped by the bouncers who rushed in from outside upon hearing the commotion. "Mr. Watson, please don't make it difficult for us. Although your skills are not bad, we have numbers on our side. You won't gain any advantage by fighting us."
The people who worked here were all well-trained. Facing Matthew, they wouldn't dare to say they could take two-on-one, but a one-on-one fight was definitely a sure win.
In just a moment, Zachary had already carried Winona out of the bathroom. Matthew looked at the small restroom crowded with people, unable to push through, let alone throw a punch.
Zachary was right, in the night club, Matthew couldn't stop him. Even if he had brought his bodyguards, there would be at most only one or two of them.
Matthew was very hesitant about getting involved in that kind of situation. He knew that if he took advantage of her vulnerability tonight, she wouldn't just not thank him, but she would also hate him for the rest of her life.
Zachary's voice came coldly from outside, with a provocating and hostile tone, as well as a sense of asserting dominance, "It's none of your business."
Just as he carried Winona out of the room, he bumped into a sneaky, short, and chubby man. The man first glanced at the wet woman in Zachary's arms, and a hint of greed and regret flashed in his eyes before he looked up at Zachary.
Feeling the coldness and murderous intent in his eyes, the man immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction, tail between his legs.
Zachary commanded, "Go catch that guy."
The bodyguard responded and chased after him.
The manager of the nightclub had already opened the door to the adjacent room and turned on all the lights. The whole room was brightly lit.
Since Zachary carried Winona out, he kept his head down, not daring to look up even slightly.
"Go buy some women's clothes," Zachary ordered.
The manager had seen Winona a few times before and didn't need Zachary to provide her measurements. She took the order and turned to leave without hesitation.
Even if he hadn't seen Winona's face, just by listening to the frequency of her breathing, he could tell something was wrong. If he didn't hurry, it was like he wanted to prolong his own life. He even closed the door as he left.
Zachary didn't immediately put Winona on the bed, but instead placed her on the sofa. He then removed her soaked clothes and threw them aside.
Mr. Bailey, who had always been pampered, was taking care of someone for the first time, so it was inevitable that he would be a little flustered and inexperienced. Additionally, Winona kept moving and didn't cooperate at all. It took several minutes to unbutton one button.
Zachary patiently said, "Don't move, be a good girl."
Just as he pulled his hand back, Winona curled up and lay on the sofa. The brief moment of clarity after being drenched in cold water was once again consumed by the effects of the drugs. "You're not allowed to take off my clothes."
"Wearing wet clothes is easy to get sick."
"You're not allowed...to take off my clothes."
Zachary looked down at the woman who had shrunk into a small size, veins popping on his forehead. He clenched his teeth and said, "Winona..."
"You're not allowed to take off my clothes."
...
He suspected that she was doing it on purpose. She kept saying the same thing over and over again.
Zachary resisted for a while, but ultimately gave in. He pressed against his throbbing forehead, and bent down again.
This time, he lost his previous patience and consideration. He ripped the clothes open, and the sound of buttons popping and fabric tearing was particularly grating in the quiet room, stirring up Zachary's collapsing sanity.
Winona's skin, which had been frozen pale by the cold water, was now tinged a light pink by the medication.
Her clothes were okay, the shirt was easy to tear, but she was wearing jeans, a spring style, which had to be taken off in an orderly manner.
Zachary was in a position where her legs were draped over his waist, and she provocatively rubbed against him...
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