Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 374

However, over the past few days, Quentin somehow kept suspecting that she still harbored feelings for Lucius.

It seemed that Lucius's sudden rescue of her from the lake had caused a massive misunderstanding.

Did he genuinely believe she still loved Lucius?

Her own temper flared at the accusation, and she lifted her chin defiantly. "Or else what?"

"You can't handle my wrath, so don't provoke me."

Madeline had been holding back, constantly accommodating and indulging him.

But she was human, made of flesh and blood. Everyone had a breaking point.

Push a good-tempered person too far, and they will eventually fight back.

Over the last few days, she had reached her limit.

Why should she be subjected to his baseless accusations?

She had done nothing wrong.

She struggled with all her might, every cell in her body screaming in protest.

Quentin pinned her down, trapping her wrists with a single hand.

With one strong grip, he immobilized both her hands against the seat.

The more she resisted, the more he wanted to conquer her, to make her surrender completely.

Tears welling in her eyes, Madeline forced a smile. "Quentin, let me go..."

Infuriated once again, his eyes turned predatory as he captured her lips, forcefully silencing her words.

Quentin had deliberately driven them out to the remote suburbs.

The car was parked on a deserted fork in the road.

The only sounds were the occasional semi-trucks roaring past in the distance.

Under the vast, desolate expanse of the night sky, stars twinkled in the cool breeze.

The wind rustled through the surrounding brush.

The leather seat reclined fully, and Madeline lay back against it.

Staring up at the swaying canopy of stars, it felt as if a single point of light fell right into her eye.

It shattered, rolling down her cheek as a tear.

The sky blurred in her dizziness, swirling like a Van Gogh painting.

She had no idea how much time passed, but eventually, even the starlight faded.

Thick clouds obscured the moon's glow, and it wasn't until heavy dew settled over the night that Quentin finally stopped.

He took care of the aftermath, tying it off and tossing it into the trash.

Quentin gently cleaned her up.

He gathered her into his arms, pressing soft kisses against her skin as he murmured, "Does it hurt?"

Madeline didn't answer. It was a pointless question, given the sheer physical difference between them.

Even when he was gentle, it was overwhelming, let alone when he lost his mind like this.

Madeline remained silent.

Quentin kissed the curve of her ear, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled deeply and apologized, "I'm sorry. I lost control."

Seeking her forgiveness, he tenderly kissed her fingertips.

He cupped her face, seeing the tear tracks staining her cheeks.

He reached out, gently wiping the corners of her eyes.

Then, with meticulous care, he kissed away every single tear on her face.

Madeline couldn't understand how he could possess these two extremes—devastating aggression followed by breathtaking tenderness.