Why the Crocodile Tears (by Flower Sock) novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

So, this bag was really a gift from Theo.

Gregory pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He let out a biter laugh, his eyes cold as fury seethed within him. His expression was like the calm before the storm.

Anathea froze for a second, stunned by the look on his face. Her heart was pounding in her chest.

Then, Gregory grabbed her chin, his voice low and sharp. “I really underestimated you. One man’s not enough, huh? You’ve got another on the hook. And you say I’m filthy? What about you?”

“What are you talking about?” Anathea’s face turned as pale as her lips.

He sneered. “Oh, please. Don’t play dumb.“.

The rage in his eyes was so intense, it was as though it could swallow Anathea whole. “You’re sleeping with two guys at once. God, you’re worse than a prostitute! How pathetic.”

Suddenly, Gregory’s head snapped to the side, stunning him.

Anathea’s palm was burning, and her hand couldn’t stop shaking. She’d slapped him—what he’d said was unforgivable.

However, panic soon hit her like a freight train. She couldn’t handle Gregory’s rage. She knew what it looked like and what it could become.

Biting down hard on her lip, she looked away. Her heart felt as if it was ready to jump out of her chest at any moment.

What if he completely lost it? What if he hurt her–really hurt her?

The thought made her shoulders tremble even harder.

Gregory touched his face, clenching his jaw. His eyes–dark and dangerous–locked on her. His fists were clenched so tightly that the veins bulged.

And then, he saw her.

She was shaking all over, caught between fury and fear. Her eyes were red and glassy, the tears threatening to spill over.

She looked terrified, and for a second, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

Anathea felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

The pressure rolling off of Gregory was so suffocating she felt as though she were trapped underwater, gasping for air. Every second seemed like forever, and her body felt as if it was on fire.

Gregory stared at her in silence for ten whole seconds.

Just as Anathea felt as though she couldn’t take it anymore and might collapse any second, Gregory got up in silence and opened the door, stepping out of the car.

The door slammed shut, making Anathea flinch.

She stared at the roof of the car, completely dazed. When she finally snapped out of it, she felt as if her body had gone. She slumped into the seat, her arms falling to her sides.

She finally released the lip she’d been biting, gasping for air.

Her face was streaked with tears, flowing freely now. They fell relentlessly, creating a mess as they soaked her hair and clung to her face, turning everything into a chaotic blur.

Inside the sealed–off Rolls–Royce, the only sound was the quiet, broken sobs of a woman trying not to fall apart.

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Chapter 117

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