Mr Billionaire's Regret Chasing His Irresistible Wife (Jared and Arielle) novel Chapter 159

(DWAYNE 'S POV)

My head snapped back from the forceful impact of Arielle's punch, my calm demeanor briefly shifting as I tethered on the brink of losing my cool. But I steadied myself; the impact of her fist on my face was intense, and I could tell my face had turned red, but I have been in tougher spots before.

I didn't flinch, didn't retaliate. Instead, I just looked at her, an amused look in my eyes.

Arielle's skills were undeniable. Few women her age could maintain the regular exercise regimen she did, and it showed in her toned physique. Her arms were sleek and well-defined, her fists clenched in anger.

But I wasn't just any man. Standing at 6 feet 4 inches in height, my strength was matched only by my professional training –I was a Mafia enforcer, a man who thrived in control and power.

As I kept staring at Arielle, I couldn't help but be drawn in by the fire in her eyes. I had always been fascinated by strong–willed women, and Arielle was no exception. Her eyes blazed with fury, her face drawn in a determined expression.

When her fists clenched in anger, it didn't escape my notice. My instincts, judging from years of training, recognized the subtle sign in her body language. I noticed the way her weight shifted into the balls of her feet, the way her knees bent slightly as she prepared to strike. It was a subtle movement, but it spoke volumes about her intentions.

And just as she tried to throw a second punch, before she could react, I beat her to it with a flash of movement—a blur in her vision, and suddenly, her body was weightless, twisted, and pressed against the bench.

It was swift, controlled, and almost effortless for me. Her back and joints were locked into place, leaving her no room to move. I could feel her heart racing, could feel the firm press of my body against hers.

"Arielle, I should be sorry for calling you an ostrich before. Because you're quite a wildcat, aren't you?" I whispered my voice low with amused curiosity, inches away from her ear. I could feel her body tense, her muscles straining against my grip.

But I held firm, refusing to let go. I could smell the sweet scent of her lavender perfume and feel the warmth of her body against mine. It was a heady feeling, one that left me almost breathless.

"What do you think?" I continued, letting the tension build. "Do you really think you can beat me up?"

(ARIELLE'S POV)

I glared at the texture of the bench beneath me, my breath coming out shallow. I wasn't one to cower easily, but this...this was different. The position was humiliating, and my pride was wounded. But I refused to let him see the extent of my discomfort.

"Do you think you're very manly by fighting with a woman?" I spat out, my voice thick with frustration.

But he didn't budge, the pressure of his body still pressed against mine, causing a strange sensation. My breath caught in my throat, and to my surprise, tears welled up in my eyes—not out of anger, but out of sheer humiliation. My buttocks also felt a sharp pain, and I knew it was because of the force with which it had been pressed on the bench.