No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 107

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 107: The Things He Saw**

The atmosphere around them felt as if it had turned to ice, a biting chill that wrapped around Amelia’s heart.

Mason’s presence was commanding, and in an instant, he reached out, his fingers gripping her chin with a firm but gentle pressure. He tilted her face upward, forcing her to meet his gaze—there was no escape from the intensity of his stare.

His eyes, usually warm, had taken on a sharpness that sent a shiver down her spine. “Didn’t I warn you about acting recklessly when you’re on your own? And if someone dares to hit you, you hit back,” he stated, his voice low and steady, a mixture of concern and frustration.

Amelia felt a rush of defensiveness surge within her. “I did! She slapped me once, and I gave her two back!” she retorted, her voice rising slightly in her eagerness to assert herself.

It was essential for him to understand that she was not someone to be trampled upon, not someone who would simply roll over and accept mistreatment.

Mason observed her with a mix of disbelief and amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching as if a smile threatened to break through his stern demeanor, but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

He pressed further, his tone shifting to a more serious note. “And who exactly is she? Ethan’s childhood sweetheart?”

Amelia’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart racing at the unexpected knowledge he possessed. “You even know about that?”

“If I want to know something, I can dig deeper than you think,” Mason replied, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet it felt like thunder in the silence. His piercing gaze seemed to penetrate every facade she wore, exposing the tangled mess she desperately tried to conceal.

A wave of anxiety washed over Amelia, tightening her chest. She glanced away, feeling the weight of his scrutiny, yet she fought to maintain her composure. “I know you’re powerful. But t-this is my problem.”

“Your problem?” Mason let out a cold, humorless laugh that echoed in the stillness. “Amelia, do you honestly believe you can summon me whenever it suits you and then discard me when you’re finished? Use me over and over?”

“I didn’t!” she exclaimed, panic rising in her throat. “I mean… I can handle this myself.”

“Handle it?”

Suddenly, Mason leaned in, his face inches from hers, the warmth of his breath brushing against the angry red mark on her cheek, making it sting anew.

“This is what you call handling it? Marrying a man who never loved you? Enduring years of feeling small and suffering? Now his mistress even has the audacity to live in your home and slap you in front of everyone?”

His words struck like daggers, each one a painful reminder of her past.

“And when you insisted on returning to the Harlows, they treated you like a servant. They made you stand at the door, greeting guests like some hired help.”

“Amelia, haven’t you suffered enough?”

Hearing the summary of her last six years laid bare before him made her heart ache with a deep, familiar pain.

Yes, she should have awakened to the truth long ago.

She should have recognized that Ethan had never loved her.

But Mason didn’t walk away. Instead, he commanded, “What are you sitting there for? Get up.”

Amelia blinked, confusion swirling in her mind. She glanced around nervously and whispered, “You mean walk out together? If people see us, it’ll look bad. And I look terrible right now. Maybe I should just stay here until the party is over and—”

“You talk too much.”

He cut her off, his long arm reaching out decisively. Mason grasped her wrist with a firm yet gentle grip, pulling her up from the bench with an authority that felt impossible to resist.

Without uttering another word, he led her across the garden, stopping at a discreet side door, the kind reserved for VIP guests.

“Go straight out. There’s a car waiting to take you home,” he instructed, releasing her wrist, his tone clipped yet laced with an undercurrent of care.

The thoughtfulness behind his words warmed Amelia’s heart, softening the edges of her anxiety.

She couldn’t help but ask quietly, “What about you?”

Mason turned his head toward the bright, bustling ballroom, a cold glint in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. “You go first. I have something to take care of.”

Amelia studied the side of his face—cool, distant, and unreadable—and her heart thumped in her chest, a mix of confusion and longing.

She took a small step back, creating a space between them, and offered a polite nod. “Okay. Goodbye. And thank you for tonight, Mr. Everett.”