He Never Loved Me Until the Day I Finally Left Him novel Chapter 38

"Show me you mean it, Helena. Make me happy," Sebastian sneered.

He abruptly released her.

Helena slumped forward, but she remained trapped in her awkward position.

There was barely any room to move, let alone escape.

Sebastian sat back like a tyrant, throwing his arms over the leather backrest, his eyes narrowed into deadly slits as he watched her.

He wanted to see exactly how far she would go.

Slowly, he saw her slender fingers reach out for him.

A second later, the metallic click of a belt buckle echoed through the silence.

Sebastian's Adam's apple bobbed heavily.

As he watched her lean down, the air in the cabin seemed to evaporate. Time ground to a halt.

His hands tightened into fists.

He had never expected her to stoop to this level.

Even during their seven years of marriage, she had only ever relented with shy reluctance when he pushed her into the bedroom.

Never like this.

So, what the hell was he to her? It seemed he was nowhere near as important as he had thought.

She would never submit for his sake, but she was fully prepared to degrade herself and perform the acts she hated most—all for the sake of a dead woman's memory.

"Please. Don't take my mother's home," she mumbled, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

The next second, Sebastian violently yanked her upright.

He pinned her against the leather seat, forcing her to stare out the tinted window at the passing city lights.

He pressed his heavy frame against her back.

"Do you know what you look like right now?" he growled against her ear, his fingers biting viciously into her waist.

She didn't answer.

"A whore."

She felt entirely numb.

She was so used to his venom that the insult barely even registered.

They were completely alone.

It wasn't until she was utterly drained, trembling and pale from the pain, that he finally pulled back.

"Sebastian... will you leave the house alone now?" she asked weakly, gasping for air.

For a split second, looking at her battered, tear-streaked face, a flicker of guilt pinched his chest.

But it was gone in a flash.

He grabbed her chin once again. "You think this is enough? Let me tell you something, Helena. When you act like this, you completely kill the mood."

Without sparing her another glance, he shoved the door open and stepped out into the garage.

Ignoring how disheveled she looked, Helena scrambled out of the car after him.

She grabbed his arm. "Sebastian, I did what you wanted! Give the house back. I'll find a way to pay off the debt."

"What did you just call me?" he stopped dead in his tracks, turning to glare at her.

The old Helena used to gaze up at him with utter adoration and softly call him Seb. She had never spat his full name at him like this.

"Sebastian," she repeated.