CHAPTER 3: CHAPTER 3: TEACHING HER A LESSON

The compartment plunged into a deathly silence as a dangerous vortex seemed to swirl in Jenson Forrest’s eyes.

"What did you just call me? Say that again!"

In the past, Zinnia Lawrence had called him ’brother’ constantly. After that night, however, he forbade it, so she had followed their peers and started calling him ’Third Brother’. A husband and wife were supposed to be the most equal of partners, yet this was the first time Zinnia had ever called him by his full name. The irony was devastating.

Facing the man’s frigid gaze, Zinnia’s pale lips trembled, but her voice was clear when she spoke. "I said, Jenson Forrest, let’s get a divorce."

As the words fell, her vision went black, followed by two sharp sounds.

SLAP! SLAP!

When Zinnia came to her senses, she was sprawled over Jenson’s lap, her bottom stinging from two heavy slaps. He was hitting her with real force. Zinnia froze in disbelief, a storm of humiliation and rage rising within her.

"Let go of me! Jenson Forrest, you bastard! What gives you the right to hit me—Oof!"

SLAP! SLAP!

Zinnia’s struggling and kicking only earned her harder blows in return. The pain reminded her of the last time she’d been spanked. She had been fifteen, and her body was developing too quickly. Afraid that a large bust would look bad when she danced, she had wrapped her chest tightly with fabric, not out of shame but vanity. By the time Jenson discovered it over a month later, hard lumps had formed on her chest, and the doctor called her actions foolish. As soon as the doctor left, Jenson had pinned her on the sofa in the study and spanked her until her bottom was swollen. The combined pain in her chest and buttocks forced her to sleep on her side for days, and she walked like a zombie, only to be ruthlessly mocked by him.

Spanking had been his way of disciplining his little sister, but she wasn’t his little sister anymore.

"Engage your brain before you run your mouth, Zinnia! Do you think marriage and divorce are some kind of game?" a warning voice boomed from above her. "Speak! Where are the earrings?!"

Jenson sneered. He knew how much she treasured those earrings. He also knew how much she cherished the title of Mrs. Forrest. Now she’s casually claiming they’re lost and demanding a divorce? Am I supposed to believe that?

"They’re lost! Are you going deaf in your old age or something?!"

"Fine, Zinnia. You’d better pray I don’t find them!"

The man hauled her up from his lap and gripped both of her hands with one of his. He suddenly leaned over, pressing her down against the seat. Zinnia struggled, but the disparity in their strength was too great; he pinned her effortlessly. His large hand slid over her thin chiffon dress, exploring from the neckline downwards. Through the thin fabric, it felt less like a search and more like a taunting, humiliating game. Who would hide earrings in a place like that!

Zinnia let out a thin, sharp cry. "Ah... they’re really not on me! Stop touching me! Ah... Let go!"

Her repeated claims that they were lost only agitated Jenson further.

RIP! RIP!

He tore her dress open from the neckline, the fabric ripping all the way down to her navel. Zinnia’s face went pale as she scrambled to cover her chest. "We’re on the street!"

However, another two rips followed.

RIP! RIP!

In an instant, the dress was nothing but shreds falling from her body. Her vision swam as he picked her up again, this time forcing her to sit astride his lap. With her back exposed to the cool air, Zinnia struggled, but he only pinned her down more firmly.

"You’re insane!"

"Are you throwing this fit just because I won’t have a child with you?"

At any moment, a car could pass by. If anyone looked over, they would see her sitting wantonly on a man’s lap. Just as high society whispered, Zinnia Lawrence was born promiscuous, the kind of girl who’d climb into her brother’s bed at eighteen.

Overwhelmed with shame and anger, Zinnia shook her head, her denials sounding weak. "It’s not about having a child! I told you, I didn’t tamper with the condoms!"

The sound of his zipper being undone was deafeningly loud. Zinnia hadn’t thought he would actually go through with it. She thrashed with all her might, beating at him with her hands and feet.

"Let go of me! You bastard!"

She raised her right foot to kick him, but he caught her ankle in a crushing grip. His voice was laced with menace. "You don’t want this foot anymore? Do you ever want to dance again? You were the one who wanted a child. I’m giving you one now, so why the reluctance?"

The pain in her ankle intensified, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of a thousand vipers gnawing at her heart. After their marriage, he had always avoided intimacy with her and refused to even consider having a child. Now, he had suddenly relented. Was it because he found out about little Julia’s illness back at the hospital? The thought only made the situation more unbearable, more pathetic.

Her eyes burned with a fiery resolve. "Yes, I wanted a child before. But not anymore. I refuse! I’m so young. Why would I throw my life away to have a baby for some old man? I’m not playing tricks. I just want a divorce!"

"Hah, a divorce? You mess up, lose my things, and now you’re threatening me with divorce? Don’t forget how you became Mrs. Forrest in the first place. You don’t have the right to talk about divorce."

He treated her words like a bad joke. He looked utterly infuriated, the veins on his forehead pulsing as he pinched her chin and commanded, "Take it back!"

"How about I spit in your face? Would you take that back for me?" Zinnia shot back, her gaze unflinching.

In the distance, the high beams of an approaching car swept over them, illuminating her pale face and her nearly nude body. She panicked and tried to hide, but Jenson held her in place. As the lights grew brighter, he maliciously observed her frantic, helpless state.

Zinnia trembled and shrank back, finally shouting out of self-preservation, "Third Brother, I was wrong!"

The next second, the man yanked a blanket and threw it around her. Zinnia scrambled away to the side. He let her go, picking up the tattered remnants of her dress and shaking them in disbelief. Of course, no earrings fell out.

Only then did Jenson finally believe she had actually discarded them.

"You’ve really grown some nerve! Zinnia, your antics need to have a limit!"

Those earrings had a special significance. Yet, over a trivial matter, she had thrown them away and even dared to mention divorce. Jenson finished his cold statement, straightened his clothes, and got out of the car. He slammed the door shut and moved to the driver’s seat.

Zinnia curled into a ball, biting her lip so hard it hurt. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would break down in a torrent of sobs. Because he didn’t love her or trust her, he would never see how broken she was. Even now, he still thought she was just being dramatic. He had no idea how much courage it had taken for her to throw those earrings away. Her face was ashen, her watery eyes completely vacant.

Jenson’s face was grim as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. His heart clenched, and an imperceptible flicker of panic crossed his mind. In the past, whenever he got angry, she would have already thrown her arms around him and begged for forgiveness. But today...

The car was deathly silent. When they returned to the villa, Jenson got out and carried Zinnia, still wrapped in the blanket, inside. Aunt Kramer was at the hospital, so the villa was empty and pitch-dark.

Jenson carried her up to the second-floor bathroom. The sound of rushing water filled the room. Zinnia struggled to lift her head. "What are you doing?"

"So you’re not playing dead anymore?" Jenson ripped the blanket away and tossed her directly into the bathtub.

The tub held only a shallow, cool layer of water. He draped her right leg over the edge of the tub, forcing her legs open in a humiliating posture. She tried to pull her leg back, but he held her knee down.

"I have no interest in self-destructive fools. Warm yourself up, then get out and treat your wound. Don’t get your foot wet."

With that, he turned and left without another word. As the water in the tub gradually warmed, Zinnia’s exhausted body went limp.

「On the terrace」

Jenson ripped off his tie and lit a cigarette. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he exhaled a plume of smoke. His voice was low and raspy as he recited a license plate number into his phone.

"Go get the earrings."

Zinnia had been wearing them in the hospital lobby; it wasn’t hard to guess where they were now. A drawer’s worth of torn condom wrappers filled the trash can. Jenson’s gaze landed on it, and as the smoke swirled around him, the frustration in his eyes began to fade. The same person who was desperate for a child just moments ago was now demanding a divorce. Was that even possible?

When Zinnia emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe, limping, Jenson was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking on the phone.

"Yes, get some rest. I’ll visit you again tomorrow."

Zinnia lowered her gaze and walked toward the sofa. Two in the morning, and she still has the energy to pester another woman’s husband. Crystal Sutton is the very embodiment of a ’green tea’—so ’refreshing’ she probably doesn’t even need to sleep.

She grumbled inwardly but was scooped up and thrown over Jenson’s shoulder before her bottom even touched the sofa. He was six-foot-three, and Zinnia screamed as the world spun around her before she was tossed onto the bed.

She scrambled up, ready to curse him out, but a sudden wave of nausea hit her. She lunged for the side of the bed and retched several times.

A gentle hand patted her back, and Jenson held out a tissue for her. Zinnia collected herself and leaned back against the headboard. He then handed her a glass of water.

She had only taken a single sip when she heard him ask, "Are you pregnant?"