Feeling her resistance, Matthew Saxon’s face grew increasingly grim, his eyes darkening as he spoke with displeasure, pressing her into his embrace, coldly saying, "Scarlett Yates, if you don’t want to take you right now, you better behave yourself."
The body in his arms instantly stiffened, seemingly frightened by his words, and she stayed motionless.
Matthew Saxon held her icy body even tighter, his lips close to her ear as he spoke with an indistinct tone, "I’ve already sent soone to find Maxwell Saxon. How dare he coerce even you, as if he doesn’t see , daring to provoke . I won’t let him off again."
Scarlett Yates’s body remained motionless, as if she were sleeping.
But Matthew knew she wasn’t asleep. He paused for a few seconds, then chuckled lowly near her ear, his long, beautifully jade-like fingers playing with a lock of her hair, his cool voice carrying a hint of laziness as he laughed and said, "Scarlett, when he falls into my hands, how to deal with him will be up to you to decide, alright?"
In a voice as gentle as a lover’s whisper, he continued speaking by her ear, "Why not let him serve so jail ti? After spending a few years inside, he’ll be much more obedient."
"What do you think of my proposal?"
"I know you’re not asleep, why aren’t you speaking? Don’t you want to help you vent your anger?"
His fingers exerted a bit of force, tugging at the hair wrapped around his fingers.
Scarlett winced in pain from the tug, unable to suppress a muffled groan.
Matthew continued asking her, "Scarlett, what do you think?"
As if he wouldn’t let it go until he heard an answer directly from her, he laughed coldly, with another finger also twirling her hair around twice: "If you think this punishnt isn’t enough, we can think of sothing else."
It was only at this mont that Scarlett realized how naive she had been.
She had foolishly thought that maybe he believed her, which was why his attitude changed.
Clearly, when he asked those questions, it proved he still firmly believed she had a fling with Maxwell Saxon.
He thought she liked Maxwell, so he deliberately said those things to provoke her.
From start to finish, this man never believed her at all.
Is there anything more sorrowful than this?
The farthest distance in the world isn’t between life and death, but her lying in his arms, him intimately holding her, yet unwilling to believe her.
To each other, they are the closest companions, yet the most estranged strangers.
Her eyes were dry and sore, yet she couldn’t cry anymore.
That night, she had cried enough, her tears almost drying up.
But what problems can crying solve?
Only when he cherishes her deeply will he care about her tears.
He insisted on getting her response, and Scarlett sighed a long breath inwardly, feeling both ridiculous and pathetic. After a mont of thought, she replied hoarsely, "Do what makes you happy, I have no opinion."
Matthew Saxon furrowed his brow, dissatisfied with her answer, stating disapprovingly, "How can you have no opinion? Scarlett, the most critical person in this matter is you, your opinion is the most important. Tell , how do you want to teach him a lesson, as long as you say it, I’ll imdiately have it done."
"Matthew Saxon, I’m really tired..."
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