Chapter 11

A shrill scream echoed throughout the small villa when the bathroom door pushed open. Tristan's gaze fixed on Genevieve's body, which she couldn't hide, and her panicked, pale face. A sharp pain throbbed in his temples. Through gritted teeth, he growled, "Put your clothes on and come out." She trembled all over and hurriedly threw on her robe. But the moment she stepped outside, his hand gripped her neck tightly, pinning her against the wall. "Who allowed you to come in?" He glared at her fiercely like an enraged lion. "Did no one tell you that no one can enter my room without my permission?" Her lips trembled, and her voice caught in her throat out of fear, leaving her unable to utter a word. Her robe's collar suddenly slipped down, exposing the marks from that night on her shoulder and chest. Tristan's sharp gaze caught sight, and he narrowed his eyes, a flash of disgust passing through them. He yanked his hand back and hissed, "Get out of here!" Genevieve didn't dare linger, stumbling as she ran outside. Outside, it had started to rain at some point. The chilly fall rain seeped into her heart, amplifying the cold within. Genevieve wrapped her arms tightly around herself, standing confusedly in the vast courtyard. Her eyes were reddened with tears of frustration and sorrow building up, but she couldn't cry. "Genevieve... Genevieve..." Jennifer hurried over, pulling her anxiously. "Why are you standing out in the rain? Did Tristan bully you? That rascal! Just wait until I talk to him." Genevieve grabbed her, her voice choked with emotion, "Grandma, why didn't you tell me this is his place?" If she had known, she would never have agreed to live here. A flicker of guilt crossed Jennifer's eyes as she sighed. "You're married now, so it's natural for you two to live together. I didn't expect this rascal to be so harsh on a woman. Don't cry. I'll go lecture him." "Heh! You really have skills, making him break his usual rules and be harsh on a woman," Lillian mocked. Jennifer's gaze sharpened. "Shut up!" She pulled Genevieve back into the small villa. "Don't be afraid. Grandma's here. I won't let him bully you anymore." Genevieve pulled her hand back. She was afraid of Tristan and was unwilling to share the same room with him even for a second. Upon seeing her rejection, Jennifer sighed. "You just got married, and there's still time. Are you going to live like this forever?" The mention of there still being time in the marriage made Genevieve feel like life had lost meaning. Inside the master bedroom, Tristan leaned back in a chair, clearly in a bad mood. His brows were furrowed in a terrifying scowl. His hand rested on the armrest, fingers long and perfectly shaped. His face was sharply sculpted, with a perfect jawline. From every angle, he was handsome enough to captivate anyone. The few unbuttoned buttons of his black shirt revealed a muscular, well-defined collarbone. His legs were long, and his physique was nearly perfect. Genevieve had realized that night how good his body was. Setting aside his temper, he was undoubtedly the type that could make women fall hopelessly for him. Unfortunately, his cruelty and oddities overshadowed all his looks. Genevieve stood at the door, unwilling to take another step. Jennifer shook her head helplessly. She took one step inside, and immediately, his violent voice rang out. "If you don't want me to kill you, get out now!" Jennifer's expression turned cold, and she snapped, "Who are you planning to kill now? All you ever talk about is killing this person or that person. Do you have a grudge against the entire world?" He sat straight, narrowing his eyes at her and locking eyes with Genevieve. "You think I won't do anything to you just because you called Grandma here?" When she remembered the killing intent in his eyes earlier, Genevieve shuddered involuntarily. Jennifer was furious. "If you keep being so harsh with Genevieve, don't dream about getting a divorce in this lifetime!" Tristan scoffed. "With that agreement around, it's not like I can ever get divorced anyway." Jennifer pursed her lips. "If you still haven't fallen in love with each other after three years, I'll invalidate that agreement. You can do whatever you want by then." Genevieve's eyes lit up as if she saw hope. Quick-witted, Tristan immediately asked, "What's the condition?" "The condition is that you're not allowed to throw Genevieve out of your room or treat her harshly anymore." At that, Tristan's expression contorted with unwillingness. Jennifer huffed. "If you can't do that, our three-year agreement will be void." This was already the biggest concession she could offer. As the saying went, time would eventually bring people together. She believed that the two would surely grow to like each other in three years. After Jennifer left, Genevieve stood by the door, as stiff as a pillar. Tristan adjusted his cufflinks and said in a sharp, mocking tone, "You deliberately stayed outside, hoping to make Grandma think I kicked you out. That way, she would scrap the three-year agreement, and you could comfortably secure your position as my wife. Isn't that right?" Genevieve inhaled sharply. She had never met anyone so harsh with their words. She swore she would never develop any affection for him in her life. He suddenly stood up and approached her. Standing before her, he deliberately blew smoke in her face, his gaze filled with mocking contempt as he surveyed her crooked robe. "I know what you're scheming, but don't waste your efforts. I'll never touch you. Because you're dirty!" She clenched her hands tightly and suddenly recalled his wild behavior that night. His reckless actions contradicted his words now, and it felt like a huge mockery. Did he not think she was "dirty" then? Genevieve wanted to laugh at him in his face, knowing that the woman he thought was filthy had slept with him that night. The thought made her furious. But knowing his cruel and vicious nature, she understood it was likely she wouldn't survive if she did that. Under his cold stare, she forced herself to suppress the angry thoughts. She lowered her gaze obediently without saying a word. Tristan didn't push further but warned her, "Don't sleep in my bed. Find somewhere else to sleep." With that, he brushed past her and headed out. Genevieve let out a small sigh of relief. She entered the room and surveyed her surroundings. The only space for a mattress was by the side of the bed. She rummaged through the closet for two thin blankets—one she used to spread on the floor, and the other to cover herself. Though it was a bit cold, having two blankets was better than nothing. She curled herself up under the thin blanket. She glanced at the warm, soft bedding on the bed and bit her lip, feeling a pang of bitterness. She just had to get through these three years. The following day, Genevieve woke up to find the bedding on the bed perfectly neat and untouched. It seemed Tristan didn't return to the room last night. That was perfect. It would be better if he never returned. Since the divorce was temporarily out of the question, she decided to focus on getting into the construction site. The new boss had promised to let her join, so today, she planned to try her luck and see if she could run into him. Jennifer had instructed Bernard to call Genevieve for breakfast at the main house. He reported that Genevieve had left through the side door early in the morning. Jennifer instinctively looked at Tristan. Tristan calmly sipped his milk, visibly irritated. "Why are you looking at me? It's not like I made her skip breakfast." She snorted and said, "Starting tomorrow, you two will eat breakfast together. If she doesn't come, neither do you." He furrowed his brow, and his expression turned dark. He emphasized to her, "I'm your grandson." "Genevieve is my granddaughter-in-law." Tristan grabbed his napkin and threw it on the table. He looked at Jennifer and smirked. "What if I want her to disappear?" Jennifer remained calm. "If she disappears without reason, I'll make Harper disappear with her." He smiled mysteriously in response. "Grandma, I think my ruthlessness comes from you." … "No, we don't hire female workers on this construction site." Genevieve looked at the nearby female workers, and she pressed her lips together in silence. It was now clear that the issue wasn't with her, but the people at the construction site were intentionally refusing to hire her. The more she thought about it, the more she realized the construction site was hiding something. It seemed the only way in was through the new boss, who had promised her entry. Just then, a Rolls-Royce appeared, heading her way.