’All he knows how to do is threaten people.’
Joanna Kennedy’s temper flared, and she couldn’t help but say, "I’m not saying I won’t give it to you. You can’t just act like this..."
"Act like what?" Simon Lockwood laughed in exasperation. He lowered his head slightly, leaning closer, and could sll the delicate fragrance of her neck.
Joanna Kennedy tensed up abruptly. A sense of danger dawned on her a mont too late, and she stared warily at Simon Lockwood’s handso face, now extrely close. She reached out to push him away. "You... you, don’t get so close to ..."
But before her hand could touch him, he grabbed it and pressed it firmly against his taut, muscular chest.
Simon Lockwood’s fingers locked tightly around hers, giving her no chance to pull away.
Through the fabric of his shirt, Joanna Kennedy could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
Her heartbeat seed to connect with his. The air grew still, the thudding of their hearts filling the silence. For a mont, the rhythms seed to fall into sync.
The faint wisps of his breath grew scorching hot. Joanna Kennedy finally couldn’t take it anymore and turned her head away. He missed, his searing lips grazing slowly against her cheek instead.
Simon Lockwood’s voice was low, and it was a statent, not a question. "You’re afraid of ."
Joanna Kennedy’s breath hitched.
Simon Lockwood asked, "Joanna Kennedy, why are you afraid of ?"
"...I’m not," Joanna Kennedy said after a long mont, her fingers resting on his chest curling slightly.
Simon Lockwood said nothing, just stared at her quietly.
Joanna Kennedy applied a little pressure and, this ti, easily pulled her hand away. She bit her lip. "Simon Lockwood, stop ssing with . This isn’t funny at all."
’What does Simon Lockwood take for?’
’He hugs when he wants, kisses when he wants, and gives the cold shoulder whenever he feels like it.’
She was the one who had dumped Simon Lockwood. And even though she’d been forced to by her mission, she didn’t feel she had the right to complain. Whatever the reason, she was the one who had done it.
So if Simon Lockwood wanted revenge, she wouldn’t say a word. But she couldn’t accept this subtle, on-again, off-again teasing of his.
He was being flippant and cold.
The boy who used to blush at a single sweet nothing could now tease her so effortlessly. Joanna Kennedy couldn’t accept it.
"I’ll pay back what I owe you. You don’t have to... be like this," Joanna Kennedy said, holding back the ache in her heart.
Simon Lockwood’s expression turned frigid in an instant. The hand at his side clenched into a fist, so tightly that veins bulged on his skin as he desperately suppressed his emotions. "Pay back?"
"Joanna Kennedy, what you owe ... you could never pay it back in a lifeti," he said cruelly, enunciating every word.
It felt like a dull hamr blow to the chest. Every breath was laced with pain. Joanna Kennedy blinked slowly as her eyes began to redden, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.
Without a word, she turned and walked toward the door. Simon Lockwood caught up in a few strides, his eyes dark with nace. "Did I say you could leave?"
"Move," Joanna Kennedy snapped, glaring at him defiantly, her eyes red.
Simon Lockwood didn’t speak, nor did he show any sign of moving. If one looked closely, you could see his fingers trembling slightly at his side—a clear sign of anxiety.
The atmosphere grew tense. Joanna Kennedy was overco with sadness and anger. Blinded by rage, she recklessly shoved Simon Lockwood.
An unreadable emotion flashed in Simon Lockwood’s eyes. A few seconds later, he stumbled back a few steps and bumped into a cabinet. An oil painting on top fell, and he reacted instantly, pulling Joanna Kennedy into his arms.
The heavy wooden fra of the painting slamd onto his back. Joanna Kennedy heard a suppressed grunt of pain.
She froze, stunned. When she ca to her senses, she imdiately struggled out of Simon Lockwood’s arms and looked at him in a panic. "Where did it hit you? Is it bad? We need to go to the hospital..."
The worry on her face was plain to see as she took his hand.
Simon Lockwood’s fingers stilled for a mont. He lowered his gaze, hiding the emotion in his eyes, and said, "It’s nothing. We don’t need to go to the hospital."
"What do you an, no?! We should still go—"
"I don’t want to go..." Simon Lockwood pursed his lips. "There’s ointnt at ho. We can just put so on."
Joanna Kennedy had no choice but to look for a suitable ointnt in the dicine cabinet.
「In the bedroom.」
Simon Lockwood sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes calm. A fiery pain spread across his back, but he acted as if he couldn’t feel it.
’It’ll probably bruise,’ he thought. ’The more obvious the injury, the better.’ An almost imperceptible shadow flickered in the depths of Simon Lockwood’s eyes.
Hearing approaching footsteps, he imdiately schooled his expression. In an instant, a look of suppressed pain clouded his features.
"I found it!" Joanna Kennedy rushed into the bedroom, holding a tube of ointnt and a few dicated patches.
"The injury’s on my back. I can’t reach it," Simon Lockwood said, looking helplessly at the items in her hands.
Joanna Kennedy’s heart clenched. He had been hurt because of her; she couldn’t just ignore it.
"Y-you should take off your shirt. Let see," Joanna Kennedy said, trying her best to sound natural.
Simon Lockwood was unusually obedient and began to unbutton his pure black shirt.
He had a great physique—the type who looked lean in clothes but was well-muscled underneath. His muscles were firm and defined, with the V-shape of his hips tapering perfectly down from his abdon.
Joanna Kennedy’s face flushed instantly. She looked away to hide her reaction, her eyes shimring as she feigned nonchalance. "Y-you, turn around."
Simon Lockwood turned around. His back was broad and powerful, with sharply defined valleys between muscles that looked as if they had been sculpted.
Now, a large, swollen red mark marred that broad expanse of skin. So areas were even turning a purplish-blue. It looked incredibly painful.
Joanna’s heart clenched. Holding her breath, she squeezed a little ointnt onto her fingertips, ward it between them, and applied it to the bruise as gently as she possibly could.
"Does it hurt?" she asked nervously.
Simon Lockwood shook his head. "No."
Joanna Kennedy sighed in relief and picked up her pace slightly, only to hear him let out a muffled groan.
’Since when is Simon Lockwood so delicate?’
Joanna Kennedy didn’t have ti to dwell on it and imdiately slowed her movents.
It took over half an hour to finish applying the ointnt. Joanna Kennedy’s hand was aching, and she gently rubbed her sore wrist. "Okay, it’s done. Don’t put your shirt on yet. Wait for the ointnt to absorb first."
Simon Lockwood let out a soft "mhm."
The room fell quiet again. Joanna Kennedy didn’t know what to say.
After a long mont, Simon Lockwood spoke, his tone unreadable. "Still angry?"
"...Yes," Joanna Kennedy answered honestly.
She wasn’t a fool. It was true that she felt guilty about Simon Lockwood getting hurt, but her earlier anger was just as real. The two feelings didn’t cancel each other out.
"I don’t think I said anything wrong," Simon Lockwood stated flatly.
Joanna Kennedy’s anger flared up again. But then she saw the bruised ss on his back and forced it back down, replying stiffly, "Whatever you say."
’It’s his mouth, after all. She couldn’t control what he said.’
Joanna Kennedy was so angry her eyes turned red again. She turned away so she wouldn’t have to look at him. Simon Lockwood stared at her back, his lips moved as if to say sothing, but in the end, he remained silent.
Simon Lockwood didn’t want to lie to Joanna Kennedy. He truly didn’t think he had said anything wrong.
Joanna Kennedy was the one who had co on to him first. Whether her feelings had been genuine or completely fake, he could have convinced himself to accept it.
There was only one thing he couldn’t accept: Joanna Kennedy leaving.
Joanna Kennedy had been the one to start this ga. And now that it had begun, he wouldn’t allow anyone to be the one to end it.
What Joanna Kennedy owed him, she would spend a lifeti repaying.
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