He didn’t know how long it had been before Justin Battleson finally released Charlotte Thompson’s lips, but the hand that held her firmly had not relaxed at all.
Charlotte lowered her eyes, looked at the man’s savage yet devout lips, and gently kissed them.
From the chin, to the neck, and then to the collarbone.
Justin’s eyes deepened, imprinting a final kiss on her collarbone.
Lifting his head, he met Charlotte’s hateful gaze.
She gritted her teeth, full of anger and frustration, but appeared frail under Justin’s control - like a common ant easily crushed by him, without the slightest chance to resist.
Seeing the man finally lift his head, she braced herself against the urge to slap him, gritting her teeth as she spoke:
"Bastard." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ N0velFire.ɴet
At her words, the man seemed taken aback. Nonchalantly, he hooked the corner of his lips and said, "Charlotte, you are my wife, carrying my child. It doesn’t seem fair to call me a bastard when I’m so loving towards my wife?"
He paused slightly, his complicated gaze falling on her beautiful face.
As he expected, a clear disdain flashed across Charlotte’s face. She snapped, "Let me clarify, I’m your ex-wife."
She was still trying to escape from Justin’s grip. But the harder she tried, the tighter his grip became.
Her anger surged up from the depths of her heart, and Charlotte’s voice raised slightly, an evident anger coursing through her words.
"Justin Battleson, what do you want?" Charlotte’s voice was icy. "Do you know why I loathe you?"
"Because you always impose what you think I want onto me. Even if I accept it, you desperately try to leave it with me."
"But you forgot, I am not you. What you think I want is actually what I detest most."
"Like giving me a flower. The flower is beautiful, but the roots are muddy. My hand gets dirty as soon as I take it from you."
"I want to wash it off, but you insist on holding me, imperiously telling me that it is what I originally wanted."
Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, a spark of fatigue flickering within. "The flower is what I want, but not the mud."
Charlotte paused for a moment before continuing, "Now, you want to take away the child. But a child is not an object, not a toy you can decide to keep or toss aside at will."
A complicated emotion flashed across her eyes, unseen by anyone but her. She continued, "Justin Battleson, why?"
Why must he push her? Why must every meeting between them end in them tearing each other down? Why...must it be her?
Upon hearing her words, Justin fell silent for a rare few seconds. After a while, his grip on Charlotte loosened a bit.
Before Charlotte could react, her nostrils were filled with Justin’s refreshing scent.
Justin gently held her, resting his chin on her shoulder. His warmth enveloped her, accompanied by a pleasant smell.
He looked down, letting out a bitter laugh. "Charlotte, you clearly know I am threatening you, hoping you’ll stay. But you’d rather leave Thompson’s than compromise with me."
There was a pause and then Charlotte heard the man’s deep voice by her ear.
"Don’t you know how I feel about you? Why can’t you lower your head and look down the path I’ve laid for you? Look at the threads of effort I’ve made to fit you into my life?"
With the end of his words, Justin could clearly feel Charlotte’s body stiffen in his embrace.