Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 330

The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom for what felt like ages.

In the end, the girl was carried out, cheeks flushed deep red, barely able to sit upright in the man's arms as he patiently fed her, spoonful by spoonful.

The young man's dark hair was damp and tousled, a bathrobe thrown loosely over his shoulders. The robe gaped open at his chest, revealing sculpted lines and a languid ease that came only after indulging his desires. He was in good spirits, not the least bit bothered that the girl had bitten his ear hard enough to draw blood. He ignored the fresh wound, focusing instead on coaxing her to eat.

But the girl had no strength left.

She turned away from the spoon he brought to her lips, bracing a trembling hand against his chest, pushing him away in protest. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"When will you finally let me go?"

"You wanted to sleep with me, fine. You've had your way. Now let me leave-I swear, I won't tell a soul."

She wanted nothing more than to get out.

She was sick of being locked in this place, staring at the same four walls, seeing only one face, confined to this endless, suffocating routine.

This wasn't a life; it was a prison sentence. Her dignity and willpower had been trampled underfoot. It felt like she was drowning, spiraling further into the abyss with each passing day.

Her mind was on the verge of collapse.

If only she could leave, if only she could return to a normal life-she could endure anything. But Lysander had to give her hope.

Just a sliver of hope that she could get out.

and measured despite the flicker of anger in her

not enough.

do you want

had, trying to push herself up, but he held her firmly in his lap, refusing

know exactly what I

eyes instantly brimmed

and resentment burst out at once.

all her remaining

him. Hated him more than words could

lifeline she'd been desperate to seize. But Lysander had

nothing and

He wanted everything, always.

desperation in her trembling hand as the fork plunged toward him. Yet he didn't flinch, letting the prongs

It wasn't deep.

had any strength left. The fork slipped off his skin almost as soon

glistened on his ear and shoulder, but his expression remained calm. He gathered the

"Feel better now?"

shoulder, hard, drawing even more

take

Lysander's body tensed,

eyes, too, grew

ages. But when her emotions finally pushed her past her limit, she fainted in his arms.