Remington was already seated at the dining table when Lizetta paused, shooting a look towards Lina, "The food's great, but the company? Not so much. I'm gonna eat in the lounge." She turned to leave, the screeching sound of a chair against the floor echoed as a man's figure swiftly approached her.

Lizetta's heart sank. She turned to run, but Remington had already scooped her up.

She kicked and struggled, but she was no match for his strength. He forced her down into a chair and, without waiting for her to settle, he brought a bowl of oatmeal to her lips.

Lizetta clenched her mouth shut, while Remington's resolve was just as strong, as if he could hold the spoon there forever unless she opened her mouth.

Chest heaving, frustrated beyond words, Lizetta swung her hand, knocking the bowl away. With a crash, the porcelain shattered on the floor, and Remington's expression turned ice-cold. "Lizetta! You really want to defy me? Fine, you're not going out tonight!"

Not this again!

Feeling a lump in her throat like swallowed blood, Lizetta took a deep breath and looked at Remington, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

"Looking at your face makes me nauseous. It's a physical reaction, uncontrollable, sorry."

His expression grew even colder as he sternly ordered, "Another bowl."

he tried again to feed her, "Go on, throw up for

an eerie gentleness, his eyes

face directly. But she hadn't eaten all day, and now, she couldn't even muster

him as a servant, a waiter. She ate the oatmeal and even had him peel

pushed it away with force, the shrimp scattering

bad, what a

obviously saw through

he simply stood up, saying,

hair before leaving. Lizetta punched the cushion

Dashiell, Mr.

injuries and how he still peeled shrimp

might

for him.

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look over at her, "I don't care what happens to him! Lina, see to the decorations and the bedding

by Remington, naturally sided with him,

hung on their every word, even their name would make their

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