No Memory No Mercy novel Chapter 8

8

I secretly clenched my fists, planning to punch Jonathan the moment he leaned in.

But after staring at me for a long time, Jonathan didn’t do anything.

He simply wrapped an arm around me and lay down beside me.

I froze for a second, then immediately began struggling.

“Let go of me,”

I demanded coldly.

Jonathan didn’t say a word, but his hold around me tightened.

With every slight movement I made, I felt the changes in his body.

My expression changed instantly, as I was filled with both anger and helplessness.

“If you don’t want anything to happen, then you should stop moving, Elise.”

I could sense that he meant every word he said, and along with the pain in my wrist, despair ate me up from within.

Jonathan and I were legally married.

Even though I was currently just the 18-year-old version of myself, who had never even held a man’s hand, I had noticed over the past few days that the 25-year-old Elise and Jonathan had a normal married life.

In everyone’s eyes, I was hopelessly in love with Jonathan.

And for someone like him, who spent every day with me, it would seem even more like it.

He didn’t know about my amnesia.

He probably just thought that I was playing hard-to-get by refusing him.

If I actually ended up provoking him…

I held my breath, forcing myself to calm down and stay still.

No matter what, I had to make it through this for now.

…

After we left the hotel, Jonathan completely ignored my protests and had the chauffeur send me straight back to the Ford residence.

It seemed he had urgent business at the company, as he took a call and left in a hurry.

Before he left, he told me to stay at home and not go anywhere.

Just as he was about to get into the car, I rolled my eyes behind his back.

Suddenly, Jonathan paused and caught me mid-act.

His gaze darkened.

I swiftly spun on my heel and headed back into the house.

Bob hurried to catch up with me.

“Ms.Sawyer, Mr.Ford has a very important meeting—”

I took a seat on the couch, too lazy to even glance up at him, and interjected, “What has that got to do with me?”

Bob stared at me in astonishment, as though shocked by my reaction.

“Ms.Sawyer, you used to want to know Mr.

Ford’s every move at all times…”

Now, it was my turn to gape at him in disbelief.