Chapter 1566: Chapter 1566: In My Eyes, What Do You Count For
He released her throat, pressed her against the wall, and gripped her shoulders tightly with both hands.
“Don’t pretend to be pitiful with . Let tell you, there are plenty of people in this world worse off than you! Joan Harry, don’t push . If you can’t let go of Sylvan Cheney, soday when I’m in a bad mood, I’ll take you in front of him.”
Jesse Rowan’s tone was venomous, and his words were explosive and utterly vile.
Joan Harry struggled to breathe, like a fish on the verge of death.
Desperately seeking rivers, but only awaiting death in the desert.
Maybe because her neck had been strangled too long, her brain was in a state of oxygen deprivation, and no matter how venomous Jesse Rowan’s words were, they all sounded trivial to her.
Once, she would still get angry, still feel fury.
Now, she seed to think he was just a demon capable of anything.
In the beginning, when he hurt her, he would at least bother to coax her a little. But lately, Jesse Rowan’s patience had worn increasingly thin.
She bit her lip and stayed silent.
“Gone mute? Joan Harry, just look at yourself. So eager to leave ? Leave , and Sylvan Cheney won’t take you. Oh, if everyone in Landon knew I’ve had you, do you think any man would still want you?”
Joan Harry closed her eyes, but unfortunately, she couldn’t block out the sound.
She didn’t want to look at him—Jesse Rowan at this mont must surely be hideously twisted in appearance.
She didn’t know why she had crossed paths with this demon; she only knew that, if she could rid herself of him, she was willing to pay any price.
“Joan Harry, starting tomorrow, don’t even think about stepping outside Koi Garden. Unless I’m in a good mood and decide to let you out for a bit, you’d better forget about seeing anyone—especially n.”
Jesse Rowan leaned down, his fingers pinching her chin tightly, his expression dark, his voice ice-cold.
“Want freedom? Happiness? Joy? Starting tomorrow, you get none of that. Here, what do you even count for, hmm?”
Jesse Rowan’s head ached, the cold wind brushing against his face made him seem like an enraged lion.
His deanor was vicious to the extre.
This was also the first ti he spoke to Joan Harry in such a humorless tone.
Joan Harry’s chin was reddened and sore from his grip.
“Don’t want to look at ? Open your eyes,” Jesse Rowan demanded.
Joan Harry shook her head; she didn’t want to see him.
This gesture infuriated Jesse Rowan even more, and he pried her legs apart with his knee, his large hand reaching into her sweater.
Joan Harry shook her head vigorously, over and over, rasping out in a hoarse voice, “No…”
“I said open your eyes.”
Joan Harry disobeyed, so his grip hardened further.
Though this was an isolated corner, it was still public space.
She bit down on her lip and finally opened her eyes.
Her gaze was crimson and raw, her swollen, tear-filled eyes void of light.
The man before her was nothing short of a raging demon, his face stormy, his movents violent, his intense stare as if drilling a hole through her.
As their eyes t, neither of them showed any expression.
Joan Harry thought, in this final race, he must’ve been victorious; otherwise, the person eting her here would’ve been Wayland Pierson, not him.
It was so cold outside.
Joan Harry shivered, her lips turning purple.
The man in front of her had beads of sweat on his forehead, veins bulging from his arms, as if consud by rage.
She didn’t know what he was so angry about.
Perhaps… n simply have an innate need to possess won.
“Your eyes—they look so much like your father’s,” Jesse Rowan suddenly remarked.
User Comments
0 comments from readers