Why the Crocodile Tears (by Flower Sock) novel Chapter 242

But Gregory wasn’t satisfied just trampling on Anathea’s dignity. He was determined to take away the last bit of affection she had left. When she resisted, he forced it from her.

Outside the floor–to–ceiling windows, lightning flashed and thunder cracked. Heavy rain poured down, flooding the streets. The trees swayed violently, their leaves scattered and branches almost snapped by the gale.

Anathea was like a flower battered by the rain.

Her once–beautiful white dress, which had fluttered gracefully as she’d danced in the center of the dance floor, was torn by Gregory’s hands. Her carefully styled hair had been yanked loose, falling messily across the couch like crumpled silk.

“Anathea, you say I don’t know how to love. But do that Morgenstein guy and Theo know any better?”

He gripped her chin tightly. His voice dug into her like a hundred sharp daggers. He tugged at her dress, tormenting her with every word and movement.

“Anathea, I’ve been merciful. I allowed Adam to receive treatment, let you work, and promised to keep the baby a secret. I’m even giving you ten million dollars a month. Do you think these things come for free?

“You’ve got the title of Mrs. Sinclair, along with all the perks that come with it. And yet you still want my affection? How greedy can you get? Since you insist on pushing things, then why should hold back any longer?”

Anathea’s body trembled uncontrollably. Her face turned pale, and she couldn’t make a sound.

The heavy rain outside slammed against the glass, while Gregory pressed her body against the couch just as relentlessly.

Tears filled her hollow eyes. When they slipped down her cheeks, he licked them away, leaving behind his mark.

Feeling repulsed, she turned her head to avoid him, but he gripped her chin to make sure she had no choice but to face him.

She didn’t know how long it had been, but eventually, the rain outside began

to

slow.

Gregory released her. As he looked at her ashen face, he frowned deeply.

He knew he’d gone too far with her today. But her words-“You don’t even know how to love someone“-had cut him deeper than anything.

She was right. He didn’t know how to love. He didn’t know how to express that complicated feeling.

And yet, she’d laid bare his greatest insecurity, making him face the flaw he hated most.

It had sent him into a frenzy.

He kept telling himself that for a wealthy couple like them, love didn’t matter. It would only turn into a dull melodrama, like something from a sappy romance novel. He wouldn’t waste his time on such trivial matters.

“I won’t apologize for today,” he said. But his trembling voice betrayed the emotions he was desperately trying to suppress.

Gregory paused, his fingers tightening into fists. He turned sharply and strode out of the room. From the back, he looked like he was in a hurry to escape.

The door to the dressing room slammed shut.

Anathea lay still on the couch. Her tears were already dry.

Her body was in disarray, especially her thighs, which were raw and sore from the way Gregory had tormented her out fully going through with it.

She closed her eyes, feeling drained.

But she couldn’t stay here wallowing in self–pity. That

would do nothing.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify