Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 223: His new principle...

As they settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine revved, and with expertise, the driver pulled away from the club.

Jessica let out a quiet sigh of relief. Though she couldn’t bring herself to say it, she had been tense about the relaunch scheduled in just one week.

But this evening had been unexpectedly fruitful and amidst rest and play; they had secured a strong foothold for the relaunch— a strong leverage for the big return.

Yet, even with that success, she couldn’t help the ache in her chest, the gnawing question clawing at her mind;

Why had Davis, once a towering figure of ambition and control, allowed himself to fall so far? He had everything it took to rise again. He had the power, the mind, the reputation and the connection — why then had he relinquished his hold, allowing others to usurp what was rightfully his?

"You have great friends," she murmured, breaking the silence, her voice gentle.

No reply.

She frowned. That was unlike him. No matter how fatigued he might be, he always responded — with a smirk, a tease, or even a grunt. This silence was sharp, unnatural.

"Hubby?" she called softly, turning to look at him. The city’s golden lights filtered through the window, illuminating his profile.

His jaw was tight, clenched in barely restrained fury. His brows were drawn low, casting shadows across his closed eyes.

This expression of his screamed warning, setting alarm bells ringing in her head—he seemed angry. But why?

"Hubby?" she called tentatively, yet again no response.

Through the reflecting lights of the city, she gazed at his face.

Jessica’s mind raced with possibilities—is it because of her fall out with Tricia? Was he bothered by her exchanging contacts with Adah? Or had Luke said something during their conversation that unsettled him?

Yet, she dismissed them all. He wasn’t that petty. But her gut told her his anger stemmed from something that happened tonight—and she had a gut feeling she was involved.

She took a deep breath to calm her thoughts. With a contemplative frown, her gaze settled on Davis beside her, taking in every detail of his features.

closed, head resting on the headrest, jaw twitching, fingers tightly clasped together. Jessica could practically

noticed how angry he really was. Slowly, she leaned closer, examining his pursed lips. A flicker of amusement danced within her—despite his fury, she still had the urge to kiss

them with her eyes quietly. Her hand, acting on its own, reached out to trace the contours of his

seat, she knelt, one elbow on the headrest, getting a clearer view

remained quiet. He neither responded

furious. She had dared to kiss him only because it was night, the car lit only by the passing streetlights—yet she couldn’t forget

return to her seat when Davis’s left hand suddenly clasped her waist, and his right hand pulled her into his

rustic in kissing?" he murmured his voice low, hoarse yet enticing to her— but no longer cold. A smirk tugged at

nuzzling against her neck, sending electrifying waves through her. He trailed kisses across

nudged his shoulder, her limbs weakening, but his next words made her jolt upright—only for

over by the side," he instructed the

if this was a common scene for their personal driver and silently gave the driver

interjected, her breath ragged as she struggled for control. The fire Davis had lit still

had some influence here, this wasn’t entirely her turf, and she wouldn’t take risks at this hour. The hotel

was torn

be caught between these two again, better to make it quick. He pressed the accelerator harder. Like an arrow, the car

over?" Davis asked, his tone with a teasing smile, adjusting her in his arms. His embrace wrapped

trying to catch her breath. "We can’t take any chances now. We don’t know what

the familiar exhaustion settle in again. She leaned into him slightly, after a pause, she looked up, her

asked softly. No matter how she thought about it—it didn’t

darkened again. Yet he suppressed his fury. "Don’t accept anyone’s apology because of

aloud. "I haven’t accepted any apology," she

his tongue. He had intended to settle the matter with her family himself, yet Jessica had

had taught him one cruel lesson: Don’t be merciful to your enemies. But if you must, make them

their undoing—their pain, their suffering, their god. He would dictate

"You know I didn’t let her go scot-free. She got what she deserved—and that’s where it ends. There were

slightly, feeling the sting from her wounded wrist. As far as she remembered, she hadn’t