Chapter 278: You're Not Worth It
Winona's gaze was filled with shock, and even a touch of sympathy, but it wasn't the kind Zachary wanted.
His expression hardened and he gritted his teeth. "Do you wish I were impotent?"
Winona shifted her gaze from his crotch back to his face. "Not really, no."
But if that had been the case, it would make her "three years of a sexless marriage" seem less pathetic. At least, it wouldn't be entirely her fault that he found her uninteresting.
Zachary's face darkened further. "If you could wipe that almost overflowing mockery out of your eyes, I might believe you."
Was Zachary admitting it?
Winona couldn't help but let out a light laugh. "So you really are impotent?"
Zachary didn't answer her; instead, he pulled her into his arms, his lower abdomen pressing against her waist. "How about now?" he whispered, his breath minty and cool on her face.
Winona's face darkened, resembling the blackened underside of a forgotten frying pan.
Zachary cupped her waist tightly, his grip verging on painful. He leaned in, pinning her between his solid frame and the cold bathroom counter, his breath cool and minty as it brushed her skin. "If last night left you with such wild misconceptions," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "why don't we settle this right now? No more guessing games needed."
Winona was not familiar of the concept of asthenozoospermia, so the moment Zachary pressed against her, she dismissed the notion that he might be impotent. Judging by his very palpable arousal, she believed Zachary was undoubtedly virile.
She had no doubt that if they really had sex, she would end up bedridden for days, just like the first time.
Winona wrestled her thoughts away and met his gaze with icy resolve, "Get out, I want to take a shower."
Zachary glanced at her sprained ankle. Although it wasn't as swollen as last night, it was still bruised and tender. "Your ankle injury can't handle heat. It might cause the blood vessels to bleed. Just give yourself a sponge bath and rest for a few days"
"Okay," Winona replied, unexpectedly compliant.
His brows furrowed in surprise but he simply patted her head and released her. Even if she was just sponging off, his presence was still inappropriate.
He pursed his lips, frustration etched in his features. If only they were still married. If he had known how prudish she was, he never would have agreed to the divorce out of spite. Now, he had to scheme just to steal a kiss. "Don't risk taking a shower. I'll find you some clothes. If I hear the water running, I’ll assume you want my help."
Winona, seizing the moment Zachary turned to leave, quickly locked the door. She had no doubts about his intent. That shameless man was entirely capable of following through on his threats.
Pressed for time with work beckoning, she opted for a brief, icy rinse, gasping as the cold water splashed against her skin, all to protect her injured ankle.
Meanwhile, outside, Zachary opened the closet and immediately frowned.
Gone were the elegant classics and designer labels, the cocktail dresses that screamed opulence. Instead, plain T-shirts and jeans lined the shelves, accompanied by a scant handful of accessories. It was a stark contrast to her previous life at Regal Oaks, where an entire wall had been dedicated to jewelry alone.
She had comprehensively shed her veneer of wealth, leaving him no leverage whatsoever.
The adage, "One who has experienced luxury does not fear poverty," rang true.
His stern expression didn't waver as the sound of running water reached his ears. Practicality overrode propriety; he rifled through the wardrobe, selecting a random outfit, and draped it over his arm. When it came to picking underwear, he hesitated briefly before choosing the only remotely alluring set.
The delicate fabric felt scalding in his hand, a blush creeping up his neck, tinting his ears a deep, embarrassed red.
He strode swiftly to the bathroom door. As Winona opened it, he thrust the clothes into her arms without a word about her taking a shower, then turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Winona, puzzled by this sudden display of consideration, glanced at the items in her hands. Her cheeks flushed crimson when she saw the semi-transparent lace panties nestled within.
Zachary, that incorrigible rogue, was undeniably a pervert. Out of comfortable cotton options, he had to choose these.
Her sprained foot protested as she considered fetching different undergarments, but she opted for convenience and changed into what he’d given her. As soon as she finished, Zachary knocked on the door with impeccable timing. "Do you have surveillance on me?" she asked at the door.
"No," Zachary replied, moving efficiently as he scooped her up and carried her to the living room without further comment.
The coffee table was set with a lavish breakfast, each dish a masterpiece, clearly not from the local eatery downstairs.
Famished, Winona tucked in without hesitation. After breakfast, Zachary reached out to lift her again, but she stopped him. "What exactly are you trying to do?"
"Take you to work, or do you think you can drive yourself like this?"
"Rebecca will come to pick me up, so you don't need to trouble yourself."
She had already arranged this with Rebecca last night.
As if on cue, a knock echoed through the room. "Winona, it's me, open the door."
Winona attempted to get up, but Zachary intervened, striding over to open it himself.
"Winona, how did you sprain your ankle? It's so badly injured..." Rebecca's voice trailed off as she took in the sight of Zachary standing there. The look he gave her was chilling, a glare reserved for foes.
Rebecca racked her brain, trying to recall if she had inadvertently offended him.
Peering over his shoulder, she called out, "Where's Winona?"
She wanted to go in, but the wheelchair she was pushing and Zachary's imposing figure blocked her way.
The man looked at her and said coldly, "One million dollars."
"What did you say?"
"Turn around and go downstairs right now," he pointed to the wheelchair, "Leave this, and I'll add half a million dollars more."
Rebecca scoffed, "That's not fitting for your status as a CEO. Make it 100 million dollars, I'll leave immediately."
Zachary looked her up and down. "You're not worth it."
Fuming, Rebecca attempted to force her way past him with the wheelchair. "Move, don't block my way."
Winona came out of the room with her bag, taking in Rebecca's fury. "What's going on?" she asked, surveying the tense scene.
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