Chapter 4

A wave of revulsion washed over me. My body felt weak and powerless as I pushed with all my might, but it was useless—my feeble attempts were like trying to scratch an itch that wouldn't go away. Maximus was frantic, his lips pressed against mine, his bulky body pressing into me. His hands fumbled urgently with his belt, clearly intent on taking things further. I froze in terror, my face drained of color. Gripping the bedsheet, I twisted my body, desperately trying to escape. But no matter how hard I struggled, even after what felt like an eternity, I barely managed to create a tiny gap. Maximus grabbed my delicate ankle and yanked me toward him with a force that wiped out any progress I had made. The small distance I had managed to create was gone, and we were even closer than before. Humiliation flooded my senses, and I wished I could disappear. But my body had no strength—not even enough to bite my tongue and end it all. Maximus leaned in to kiss my face again, but I barely managed to dodge it. "Get away!" I spat weakly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t touch me, or Jasper won’t let you get away with this!" Maximus chuckled darkly, slipping his hand under my clothes. "Don’t think I don’t know," he said with a grin. "You’ve already divorced Mr. Jasper. What does he care about you now?" I regretted my rash actions and tried to explain, "No, I haven’t... we’re still..." But my words were cut short by the sound of my dress being torn open. Jasper’s POV The night was still. I had just left a dinner meeting and was now in the back of my car, still feeling the effects of the high-proof whiskey the foreign clients had offered me. The alcohol weighed on me, making my head spin and my senses dull. James, my driver, glanced at me cautiously, his voice soft. "Boss, are you heading home tonight?" By "home," James meant my penthouse apartment. I rested my forehead in my hand, slowly opening my eyes to stare at the car ceiling. "No," I said quietly, "Take me to Imperial Court." Imperial Court was where Arabella lived, and once upon a time, it had been my favorite place—the place I considered home. That woman needed fifty million, and now was the time to make her listen. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but I found myself wanting to see her gentle and compliant, even though I knew all the affection she showed me was tainted with ulterior motives. James immediately complied, starting the car. I rubbed my temples, the alcohol’s effects making me uncomfortable, and lowered the window to get some fresh air. As I did, I spotted a familiar figure standing by the side of the road. Arabella’s stepmother, Charlotte, was smiling broadly as she spoke to a chubby, balding man with a distinctly familiar face. My brows furrowed, a sense of unease rising in me. "Stop the car," I ordered. James quickly obeyed. On the roadside, Charlotte was happily escorting the bald man into a hotel before turning to walk toward a nearby van. A van? I immediately sensed something was wrong. I flung open the car door and stepped out, heading straight toward Charlotte. Charlotte, in high spirits, was humming a tune in front of the van, pulling out her phone to call Alexander and share the good news. "Mrs. Zhou," a rich, yet chilling voice suddenly called from behind. Charlotte jumped in surprise, nearly dropping her phone. She quickly turned around, plastering on a smile. "Oh, Mr. Jasper, you’re still out this late?" I fixed my dark eyes on her, my tone cold as I responded, "And you still haven’t left, have you?" Charlotte gave an awkward laugh. "I was just about to leave..." I didn’t respond, nor did I move. I stood there, stiff and imposing, making it clear that she couldn’t leave if she wanted to. After a tense silence, she finally spoke, unable to hold back any longer. "Mr. Jasper… about your divorce with Arabella… it was all her doing. She’s still in love with you, really..." Before she could finish, an icy chill descended. It was sharp enough to make her instinctively stop talking, her fear hanging thick in the air. "What did you say?" My gaze darkened, cold enough to send a shiver down her spine. "Divorce?" Charlotte recoiled, her voice barely a whisper. "Arabella said… that your marriage was unhappy, and you two have already divorced…" The coldness around me intensified, the temperature dropping several degrees as my anger flared. That woman... she had already planned on divorcing me! So, Arabella, I never knew... you were planning your escape all along. I clenched my fists, my face a mask of ice, and turned toward my car. Looks like she has a lesson coming her way. Tonight, I’ll make sure she understands that no matter how unhappy our marriage was, she’ll never get to leave! Since she’s married to me, she’s mine—no matter what, even if it means she dies with that title! Charlotte, still shaken, watched as I strode past her, the air around me still thick with cold. She couldn’t help but wonder: Was Jasper still so attached to Arabella? Had Jasper really divorced her? Or... had Arabella been lying to them all along? Maybe she didn’t want to keep fighting for money anymore. The thought burned inside Charlotte, fueling her anger. If Arabella dared to deceive them, she’d make sure that little vixen paid! She had spent years pretending to be a loving mother to Arabella, all to use her as a pawn for leverage. If Arabella was no longer useful, why keep her around? Was she just waiting for Arabella to fight for her inheritance? Charlotte quickly got into her car, planning to have Alexander look into it and see if Arabella was really divorced. As for what was happening in the hotel room right now, Charlotte didn’t feel the slightest urge to intervene. A night’s sleep in exchange for a $50 million loan at a low interest rate? The woman was barely worth that much. On the other side, I got into my car, still seething with cold fury. My rage simmered beneath the surface as I snapped, "Drive. Take me back. Now!" The engine roared to life. The cold air rushing in through the window only made my headache worse, and my growing irritation caused the veins in my forehead to throb. My glare turned even more venomous. My mind was consumed with anger, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pulled out my phone and dialed Arabella. The rage inside me was boiling over, and the moment the call connected, it was going to explode. But instead of hearing her voice, I was met with the cold, mechanical tone of an automated message: "Sorry, I’m unable to take your call right now. Please leave a message." The failed call only fueled my anger further, like pouring gasoline on a fire. "Arabella!" I growled through gritted teeth, slamming the phone into the car’s floor with all my strength. The crash echoed loudly. James, driving ahead, flinched, his body instinctively curling in fear as he held his breath. I had thrown my phone in a fit of rage, but it wasn’t enough. I kicked the seat in front of me with all my might, like a lion at the brink of snapping. The window was still down, and the cold wind whipped inside. I pressed my fingers to my temples, biting my lip hard, my face stone-cold and set as I struggled to rein in my fury. Then, suddenly, my heart tightened inexplicably, a heavy sense of unease flooding through me. I forced my eyes open, the fire in them barely contained, my chaotic thoughts slowly settling. It hit me. I suddenly remembered who the balding, chubby man was—the head of Sterling Crest Bank, the one who had once relentlessly pursued Arabella. Why was Charlotte meeting him now, at this hour, in such an ambiguous place, right outside the hotel? Could it be… "Stop the car!" I straightened up, my voice shaking with tension. "Turn around, go back!" James froze for a moment, but not daring to question me, he quickly turned the wheel. However, there was traffic in the adjacent lane, and in his panic, he misjudged the distance, colliding with an oncoming car. The other car was speeding, and the impact was massive. It slammed into our vehicle with terrifying force, sending it careening violently to the side. The window shattered on impact, glass spraying across the road as our car flipped over, the scene horrifying. I hadn’t been wearing my seatbelt, and the force of the crash threw me back. Then, as the car flipped, I was thrown onto the road, crashing into the jagged glass shards. The glass pierced my skin, and blood poured out immediately.