CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 65: FAILURE TO DEFEND THE CITY

Joel Sutton is indeed different to me, I can feel it.

Perhaps a young boy’s heart is easier to stir, and also more earnest.

I suddenly felt a bit guilty. What if Joel’s fondness for me grows deeper? I asked myself honestly, I really don’t like ’little puppies’ and can’t give him the response he wants.

I just wanted to use his identity to balance my inner self. If he is willing to play along with me and pass the time, maybe I could consider it, but if it becomes serious, I absolutely cannot accept it.

Just as I was lost in thought, my mind in disarray, Henry Preston had already finished his shower and returned. He was wearing a black bathrobe, revealing his solid and sexy chest muscles partially.

I withdrew my gaze, shoved my phone under the pillow, and then pretended to sleep.

After a while, I felt the soft mattress sink down, and Henry lay down beside me with the scent of body wash and shampoo that I liked.

"Why aren’t you going to sleep in the guest room?" I lay with my back to him and mischievously asked.

"Half of the master bedroom is mine too," Henry replied coldly.

"Then why are you using my bathroom? Using my body wash and shampoo?" I turned over and glared at him, "Didn’t you say you hated that smell before?"

When a woman’s mind is troubled, even her questions become tricky.

Henry’s face, so close to me, remained perfect, even the crease of his frown was just right. He turned to look at me, his thin lips moved slightly, "Zoe Hathaway, do you hear what you’re saying?"

Staring at each other for a while, his gaze made me a bit deflated, and I turned over again to continue sleeping, "Forget it, I won’t hold it against you."

The next second, a hand grabbed my shoulder, unceremoniously turning me back around, almost pinching off my thin skin and flesh.

I yelped in pain, tears welled up immediately, "It hurts, it hurts, Henry! What are you doing?!"

In his dark eyes, there was a burning flame of desire. He scanned my face, his gaze finally resting on my lips. Just as I realized something was wrong, he already leaned in aggressively, blocking the words I wanted to say.

His kiss left me almost breathless, and suddenly a sharp pain on my lips made him release me.

There was a trace of blood on his lips, which he wiped off casually.

"Henry, have you gone rabid?!" I also touched my lips that were still stinging, and sure enough, there was blood. Angrily, I tried to hit him.

But my hand was caught, and I couldn’t move.

Henry adeptly covered my wounded lips again, and the curse words I had ready to utter were suppressed before they could escape.

We tangled awkwardly and contradictorily on the bed for a long time. I wanted to refuse him, but his domineering and forceful teasing kept swaying my resolve. He wanted to be gentle, but whenever I resisted, he would suppress me with anger.

Finally, I was drenched in sweat, and Henry had long since stripped off his bathrobe, beads of sweat gliding down his sculpted back.

He got up from the bed, glanced at the chaos of the sheets and pillows, then bare-chested, went out to the balcony, smoking a cigarette in the swirling snow.

I combed my hair, damp with sweat, took a deep breath, and cursed silently, "Freeze to death, you bastard!"

Today I did well, using the body of The White Witch to successfully fend off Henry’s advances, though there wasn’t a patch of skin on me that looked decent, at least I held my ground.

When Henry finished smoking, he turned back and closed the door. A hint of menace in his eyes, a faint smile on his lips, "Come, let’s continue."

"Continue my ass! Go to hell!" I grabbed a pillow and threw it at Henry, who caught it deftly and tossed it to the ground. Then, in a few steps, he was beside the bed, pinning my hands so I couldn’t throw anything else.

"Since when did you like to swear so much?" Henry said this, then gave me no chance to resist.

Three minutes later, I silently declared defeat inside.

I said I wouldn’t stay up late, but as long as Henry’s beastly nature erupted, I had no way of going to bed early and getting up early to maintain good health.

Unfortunately, it was my mother-in-law’s birthday the next day, and I had to force my aching body to get up. When I showered and sat in front of the dressing mirror, I was startled by what I saw.

A pale face with dull eyes and dark circles underneath, my neck covered in love bites and bruises, made me look as though I’d been subjected to long-term abuse and domestic violence.

Henry pushed the door open and came in, impeccably dressed as always, exuding an air of noble elegance.

As for me, forget it, it’s better not to look.

"Get dressed and come downstairs; we’ll head out after breakfast." Henry, that kind of person, acts saintly afterward, as if he wasn’t the one who drove me crazy last night, easily reverting to the familiar stranger mode.

I didn’t want to engage with him, just got up to find clothes in the walk-in closet.

My in-laws like a daughter-in-law who is gracious, elegant, and poised, so I chose the white coat that would never go wrong, with a beige turtleneck sweater and pants underneath, simple and sophisticated, and capable of covering up the unsightly neck.

Then I carefully applied makeup to conceal the fatigue on my face and improve my complexion.

Finally, I took the birthday gift I had prepared a long time ago and went downstairs. Henry was already having breakfast and, seeing me come down, the housekeeper set a hot breakfast in front of me.

After breakfast, Henry and I went out together. Passing by the snowman, he asked me, "Why did you only put a nose on it and not eyes?"

"I did, but I dug them out when I was upset." I don’t know why I was upset, maybe because my legs were still sore, and Henry looked fine, making me feel annoyed. I suddenly pulled out the snowman’s nose and threw it into the snow pile, giving him a blank look.

Henry didn’t react to my action. In the past, he would have thought I was trying to get his attention, thus feeling annoyed.

He even picked up the carrot and put it back on the snowman.

The champagne-colored Mulsanne parked outside was covered with a thick layer of snow, too much hassle to deal with on the spot, so Henry called a driver to handle it, and then went to the underground garage to drive out a Cullinan. After waiting a while in the freezing cold, the car slowly pulled up beside me.

I opened the front passenger door and got in, heading to my mother-in-law’s house.

Passing by the old workers’ community where Azure Vaughn’s family lived, I saw it had been demolished, dust everywhere, constant sounds of excavation, everything in an uproar.

Where has Azure’s family moved to now? I’m a bit curious since Laura Lawson invited me to her home for dinner before, and I remember it, wanting to go when I have time.