Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love novel Chapter 19

Maxwell had Rosemary in a grip that was a bit too tight, causing her pain. She tried to turn her head to dodge, but how could she possibly match a man's strength?

Seeing her silent, Maxwell leaned in, his eyes roiling with anger that he forcefully suppressed. From his expression alone, she couldn't tell there was a firestorm brewing inside him.

In fact, his voice was even softer than usual. Closing in on Rosemary, he said slowly and with restraint, "What's this Fitch guy that you need to go asking strangers for help? Is the Mrs. Templeton title not cutting it for you, or are you just too high and mighty to use it?"

"Maxwell, you're hurting me," Rosemary tried to wriggle out of his vice-like grip to no avail. After a few attempts, the skin under his calloused fingertips was burning with pain, making her wonder if it was broken.

She frowned in irritation, "We're getting divorced anyway; who I ask for help is none of your business!"

"Divorce? Are you for real? Just half a month ago, you stripped down and seduced me, saying you wanted to spend a lifetime with me."

Things that were playful in bed turned into a glaring shame when brought into the open.

It felt like Rosemary had been slapped hard across the face, her complexion drained of color, but she didn't show any weakness in front of this man. Instead, she provocatively curled her lips into a smirk, "Yeah, considering you've been acting all uninterested for the past three years, I had to make sure you still had it in you for the sake of my future happiness. Good thing I did, it helped me make up my mind that divorce was the only option."

Maxwell's grip tightened as he said, "Wasn't that pre-wedding romp enough to satisfy you?"

"That time the drink was spiked. I used a hefty dose just to make sure, and now it's proven you're really hopeless without the drugs."

Rosemary was genuinely tipsy, Maxwell's face in front of her blurring, indistinct even in features, let alone expression.

She heard herself spitting out words, responding subconsciously without knowing exactly what she was saying.

And Maxwell, with that nerve in his brain stretched taut, felt his anger burning brighter, almost hissing, "Rosemary, you've really got some nerve!"

He opened the car door, dragged the slumped Rosemary out, and headed straight for the elevator to the Night Club hotel at higher floor where he had a private suite due to being the boss of the place.

The elevator stopped on the 24th floor, his territory that required a fingerprint to access. Maxwell hauled Rosemary into the room and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed.

Looking down at the curled-up, drowsy woman, his expressionless face grew even darker. He methodically removed his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing tight, toned muscles.

Even in moments like this, the scion of a noble family retained his elegance, without a hint of rushing. Maxwell hadn't planned on doing anything to Rosemary, but she was asking for it!