Chapter 6

I had anticipated all sorts of reactions from Jonathan—anger, shock, disappointment, repulsion… But whatever his reaction was, it no longer mattered to me. The surroundings became eerily quiet, even more so than before. I could even hear the dripping sound of water falling from my body onto the floor and the subtle sound of the people around me deliberately slowing their breathing. They all seemed stunned. I, who had basically worshipped Jonathan in the past, had just slapped him. And not only that, I'd asked for a divorce. Jonathan fell silent for a very long time. The vivid red mark on his face was clear for all to see. All of a sudden, he approached me. Afraid that he was going to hit me back, I instinctively took a step back. In that split second, Jonathan's expression darkened even more than before. He looked even more pissed off than he had when I had slapped him. "I told you that slap was considered alimony from you! Are you going to hit me back?" I glared at him. "Are you so ungentlemanly, Jonathan?" He kept quiet and pressed his lips into a thin line. Then, he grabbed my wrist and proceeded to drag me out behind him. I struggled and put up a fight, but no one around offered to help. They were all there to watch the drama unfold. "I'm not going with you!" In the mess of everything going on, I grabbed onto a sturdy arm. The man shot me a glance before looking at Jonathan. He did not pull me off. Instead, he flashed Jonathan a somewhat roguish grin and said, "Jonathan, she nearly drowned. Let's not be so petty, eh?" This was the man who had dove in to rescue me earlier on. He was also drenched from head to toe, yet he carried an untamed charm about him. He seemed the polar opposite of Jonathan. While Jonathan carried himself in a cold and aloof manner, this man seemed wild and unruly. I got momentarily lost in my thoughts as I stared at him. Jonathan seemed to notice it, and a terrifyingly stormy look came over him. He tightened his grip on my wrist and said, "She's my wife, Frederick. In what position are you to lecture me?" Frederick, still wearing his cocky smile, replied, "Didn't I just hear her say that she wants a divorce?" For a moment, tension was thick in the air. When Frederick saw the murderous intent in Jonathan's eyes, he chuckled and said, "No matter what it is, I just saved your wife. Shouldn't you be thanking me?" It was only then that Jonathan's expression thawed a little. "I'll hand the project in Brindlewest entirely to you." Then Jonathan turned and walked off, dragging me behind him. Gasps erupted behind us, showing just how astonished the crowd was. "The Brindlewest project is a goldmine! Did Jonathan just give it to Frederick Guzman?" "That project's worth hundreds of billions! Even the Zimmers only got a small share of it! But Jonathan just gave Frederick the whole thing!" "Just because Frederick saved his wife? That can't be! I thought Jonathan hated his hick of a wife!" The chatter went on for a long time after we left. … Jonathan brought me back to a hotel room. Because of how fussy he was, he never stayed in rooms that had been occupied by others, even if they were hotel rooms. Hence, he kept a private penthouse suite reserved for himself. Yanking me in by the wrist, he said nothing the entire time and shoved me into a bathtub. Warm water enveloped me, and I couldn't help but mutter, "Can you get out, Jonathan?" He remained cold and silent. He'd been acting like that since I slapped him. "No," he rasped after a long pause. When I was about done soaking in the bathtub, he picked me up and carried me out. I wanted to walk out on my own, but he ignored my request. My weak struggles were no match for his strength. He neatly tucked me into bed and got into bed beside me. I had no idea what he was about to do. The very next second, I felt his weight on me as he pulled me into a hug. His arms were like a vise around me, making it hard for me to breathe. His sharp jaw rested on my head, and when I tried to wriggle free, he only tightened his hold on me. Just as I was about to run out of patience, I heard him say in a deeply restrained and hoarse voice, "Thank goodness you're alright, Elise…" And all I had to say to that was, "Drop the act, Jonathan." The person who had saved me was Frederick. What right did Jonathan have to say such words?