I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 474

Without a word, I bypassed him and walked into the room. I saw Steven sitting calmly on the sofa, his long, elegant fingers flipping through a magazine. He looked every bit the cool, refined gentleman.

He was a world away from the man in the hospital yesterday, the one who had grabbed me in a crazed, near-pathological frenzy, on the verge of a complete meltdown.

Today, his emotions were stable.

But I, on the other hand, had been stewing in a fire of rage all night after one provocation after another.

No wonder he had let me go. No wonder he hadn't chased after me yesterday despite being so furious. It was because he knew all along that I would come to him.

I glanced down and saw an iced coffee on his table. I had to resist the urge to dump it over his head.

"How can you be so twisted, Steven? You despicable coward. Aren't you afraid of karma for treating me this badly?"

Hearing my words, Gordon quietly excused himself, pulling the door shut behind him.

Steven lifted his handsome, cool face, though his eyes remained fixed on the magazine.

I snatched the magazine from his hands and threw it onto the sofa.

"Wasn't Verna's broken leg enough to tempt you? Have all the women in the world died off? Do you have to fixate on me? Or are you just sick, getting off on conquering people who don't love you?"

"What is wrong with you? If you want to target me, then target me. Why are you tormenting Horace, tormenting Rachel, even tormenting her father? What did they ever do to you? How can you be so utterly ruthless?!"

Steven finally looked up, his gaze piercing as he stared at me.

"Let them go, now. Horace's leg isn't fully healed; he needs to get back to his physical therapy. And Rachel's family, leave them alone. You nearly drove her father to suicide. If something really happens to them, Steven, I swear I will end you!"

Steven let me grip his collar, his eyes locked with mine, a cold curve to his lips.

"So Rachel's father is one of your precious few as well. You certainly care about a lot of people. Is it going to get to the point where even a dog is more important to you than me, where it can walk all over me?"

His tone was laced with resentment, practically dripping with acid.

Before I could respond, Steven's hand shot out and clamped around mine. An overwhelming, possessive force radiated from him, completely enveloping me. I heard him articulate each word with chilling clarity.

"Kiss me. Kiss me exactly how you kissed Horace outside the design competition. It has to be identical, down to the last detail—"