His Last Command Came Back to Kill Him novel Chapter 55

She stepped to the side, trying to walk past him, wanting absolutely nothing to do with him.

But Merrick anticipated her move and shifted effortlessly, blocking her way once again.

He stepped closer. The sharp scent of alcohol mixed with expensive cologne hit her, and she instinctively took a step back.

"What’s the rush?" Merrick smirked, his eyes raking over her with blatant disrespect. "It's been a while. Can't we just catch up?"

"We have nothing to talk about," she said, her brow furrowing.

Ignoring her completely, he suddenly lunged forward, his large hand clamping down on her wrist like a vice. His grip was scorching hot and surprisingly strong. She couldn't pull away.

"Let go!" Her expression darkened as she struggled. "Merrick, get your hands off me!"

"Don't be so eager to run away." Merrick looked down at her slender wrist trapped in his grasp. His thumb deliberately brushed against the soft skin of her hand. "What’s wrong, Whitley? Am I that repulsive? Or are you just playing hard to get?"

His touch was degrading. A sickening wave of revulsion and anger flared up inside her. She yanked her arm with all her strength, but his hold was ironclad.

"Show some respect! Back off right now!"

"Respect?" he laughed, his gaze darkening dangerously.

He advanced, forcing her to step back until her shoulders hit the stone wall. He slammed his other hand against the brick beside her head, boxing her in completely.

"Clive treats you like garbage. He treats you like you don't even exist while another woman walks all over you. Has he ever shown you an ounce of respect?" Merrick’s voice dropped low, dripping with dark temptation. "If you had married me instead, I would never have let you suffer like this. I would have worshipped you. I’d treat you like a queen for the rest of your life."

Whitley’s heart hammered against her ribs, a chill settling over her skin. Staring at the unhinged intensity in his eyes, a genuine sense of panic began to rise.

She knew exactly what kind of man he was. He was reckless and crazy enough to do whatever he pleased. They were in a secluded corner of the garden where no one ever walked. If he decided to cross the line, she couldn't fight him off alone.

Clive stood a few yards away. Tall, rigid, and radiating an icy fury.

Merrick froze. Slowly, he released her wrist. Standing up straight, he turned to face Clive. There wasn't a hint of guilt on his face. Instead, he flashed a lazy, defiant grin.

"Nothing at all," Merrick said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Just haven't seen Whitley in a while. We were just catching up. You don't mind, do you?"

Clive didn't say a word. His pitch-black eyes were locked entirely on Whitley.

She couldn't read the emotion in his gaze. It felt like a harsh interrogation.

He probably thought this was her fault.

Having just escaped Merrick's assault, facing her husband's condemning stare made her feel like she was suffocating.