I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 476

"Zephyra, I will be very good to you," he said, his voice softening into a gentle persuasion. "I won't do the things you don't like anymore. Whatever you want, I'll bring it to you on a silver platter, hmm?"

My body went rigid. I slapped his hand away from my face. "Impossible! I will never marry you again!"

I thought he was just unsatisfied. That if I slept with him one more time, he would get what he wanted and finally leave me alone. But he wanted my entire life!

Steven was even learning to sweet-talk. But if he were truly capable of being good to me, he wouldn't be hurting my friends!

I would never get back together with him. I wasn't that stupid. I wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Seeing my resolute refusal, Steven was once again provoked. He moved closer, his low voice laced with a chilling coldness.

"If you're not going to be Mrs. Lancaster, and you sleep with me, are you planning to get back with Horace afterwards?"

I gritted my teeth, my eyes turning red and moist.

"I was wrong. I admit it. I should never have fallen for you in the first place, never have married you. If we had never started, we wouldn't be in this miserable mess now."

"You're heartless. You'll never understand the guilt a person feels for hurting their friends for the sake of love. If I sleep with you tonight, it's only to end this nightmare. I won't be with Horace anymore after this. I don't deserve him."

"And likewise, a despicable man like you, a bastard who only knows how to take by force, you don't deserve me either. I would rather die than be with you."

Steven was livid. He grabbed my face, his grip hard. "Zephyra, say that again. I dare you!"

Before I could finish, his mouth crashed down on mine. Steven bit my lip, hard, then violently threw me onto the sofa.

My head spun from the impact, and tears streamed down my face. When I looked up, I saw Steven unbuttoning his shirt one by one, his gaze fixed on me like a predator about to tear its prey apart, a look of finality in his eyes.

My anger-fueled recklessness finally gave way to cold clarity. He tossed his shirt to the floor and reached for his belt. A wave of terror washed over me. I scrambled to get up and run, but he caught me by the waist and threw me back onto the sofa.

His laughter was a cold, harsh sound, as if he were questioning me, and himself.

"You don't love me when I'm good to you. I use the slightest bit of force, and you're filled with regret. No matter what I do, you hate me. If that's the destined outcome, then what the hell have I been holding back for?"