Chapter 9
Even Jenny seemed to be worried for her. Anathea chuckled and said gently, “It’s fine.”
What was the point of holding on when she’d already decided to let go?
After dinner, Anathea sat down to update her résumé.
Before she’d married Gregory, she’d had her own career. She was a florist–a talented one too. Within six months of entering the industry, she’d already swept every major rising talent award. She’d strengthened the country’s relatively weak standing in
international floral design.
Even her competitors had to admit she was something special. Her mentor, who’d taken her under her wing, had nothing but high hopes for her.
Everyone had believed Anathea had a brilliant future ahead of her in the floral world.
And then, at the peak of her momentum, she’d walked away from it all.
After she’d married Gregory, Eleanor had insisted that a Sinclair wife should prioritize family. She’d told Anathea to stop wasting
time on flowers and start learning how to be a proper high–society wife.
Anathea had resisted at first. But then Eleanor had said Gregory was already upset about it. And that had been it–Anathea had
given in.
Afterward, Xander had been born, and her world had revolved around him since then. She’d had no time to focus on her own passions anymore. The only solace she could find was in tending to the flowers at home each day.
Looking back now, it was ridiculous. She’d thrown away her career for the so–called love and family.
Anathea silently made up her mind. She was going to reclaim everything she’d once lost, one by one.
By the time she finished sending out her résumé, it was close to 10:00 pm.
The house was silent. Gregory and Xander weren’t back yet.
In the past, no matter how late they’d come home, Anathea would be waiting in the living room. She would run a bath for Xander and press Gregory’s suit for the next day. She’d take care of everything before she’d even think of herself.
That night, she took a shower and slipped into bed with her phone. She chatted briefly with Hannah, reminding her to be careful
during stunt scenes and to get some rest. After all, staying up all night would make her face puffy on camera.
At 10:30 pm, Anathea turned off the lights and went to sleep.
She realized how comfortable it felt to focus only on herself without worrying about anyone else. She smiled slightly and drifted
into dreams.
But it wasn’t long before she heard the door open.
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Chapter
Anathea was a light sleeper. She woke immediately, only to find Gregory standing by her bed, staring at her.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast deep shadows across his chiseled features, making him look even more striking than usual.
Once upon a time, that look alone would have made her heart skip a beat.
Now, Anathea felt nothing but indifference. If anything, she was annoyed at having her rest disturbed. Her voice sounded slightly hoarse as she asked, “What?”
Gregory didn’t answer. He leaned down, yanking off his tie with one hand while the other reached for the buttons of her
nightgown.
Startled, Anathea grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think?” Gregory threw her own words back at her. Not giving Anathea a chance to respond, he yanked back the
covers and loomed over her.
Gregory didn’t love her, yet he often slept with her. He treated her like nothing more than an outlet for his desires.
The most ridiculous part was that Anathea rarely refused. After all, those moments felt like the only time she was ever close to
him.
They would share the same heartbeat and lock eyes in that fleeting moment of release. It always made Anathea wonder if Gregory liked her, even just a little. Even if it was only her body he desired.
But those illusions had shattered too many times.
“No!” Anathea said firmly, pushing against his chest. “I’m on my period.”
Gregory didn’t say a word. His hand moved lower.
Anathea tensed.
“You’re not wearing a pad,” he said flatly, exposing her lie.
For a moment, she was stunned. Then, she pressed her legs together and turned away. “I’m tired. I don’t want to.”
Gregory’s expression darkened instantly. She’d never refused him before. Now, she’d done it twice in a row, and worse, she’d lied
to him.
A sharp fury flared in his eyes. Without another word, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the pillow.
“Gregory, let go!” Anathea struggled, but he didn’t budge. His lips branded her slender neck, his teeth grazing against her skin.
She bit her lip hard, refusing to let any sound escape. In desperation, she raised her knee to kick him.
Gregory hadn’t expected her to do that. If he hadn’t reacted quickly, she would have landed a solid kick
“Anathea!” His voice was laced with anger. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
2/4
Anathea clutched at her disheveled nightgown. Her chest rose and fell with her ragged breaths. “Isn’t Natalie downstairs? If you’re so desperate, why don’t you go to her?”
His obsession with Natalie was no secret. Now that Natalie was living here, why was he still coming to her bed? Was he afraid she would interrupt them if he went to Natalie?
Anathea said in a calm and reasonable tone, “Don’t worry. Whatever you and Natalie do, I’ll pretend I never heard or saw a thing.
I won’t disturb
Before she could finish, Gregory grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him.
She nearly crashed into his face. Instinctively, she tried to pull back, but he gripped her chin, holding her in place.
“Anathea, you’re acting out just because Natalie moved in, aren’t you? And now you’re pretending to be so magnanimous?” Gregory let out a cold laugh. His gaze was filled with contempt as he looked at her.
“What now? Playing the victim didn’t work, so now you’re trying to act all noble? Do you ever run out of tricks?”
Anathea didn’t bother responding. No matter what she said, Gregory would always think of her as scheming.
Gregory took her silence as admission. His gaze darkened with something unreadable before he tightened his grip on her chin
and claimed her lips with force.
His breath was hot against her skin. Anathea’s lashes fluttered. But as his advances intensified, she realized just how vast the
difference in strength between men and women truly was. She couldn’t fight back.
Her fingers clenched briefly, but soon, she stopped resisting. She didn’t reciprocate. She just lay there, lifeless, like a doll stripped
of its soul.
Her cold indifference only fueled Gregory’s frustration. He threw her onto the bed. Anathea didn’t react. She simply lay there,
staring up at him with a blank expression.
Her apathy drained what little interest he had left. Gregory clenched his jaw, grabbed his jacket from the bed, and stormed out.
The door slammed behind him with a loud bang, rattling the walls. It was an undeniable testament to his rage.
Anathea let out a slow breath and wiped the lingering dampness from her lips with the back of her hand. Then, she grabbed a
tissue and rubbed at her skin until the feeling was gone.
Gregory’s intrusion had left her restless, and she spent the rest of the night tossing and turning.
By morning, the exhaustion was written all over her face.
As she passed by the second floor, she caught sight of Gregory emerging from one of the guest rooms. Her steps faltered.
But he acted as if he didn’t see her. His face was cold as he fastened his cufflinks and walked right past her.
And then, Natalie stepped out of the same room.
3/4
Grapter 24
Unlike Anathea’s weary complexion, Natalie looked positively radiant with a soft glow on her cheeks.
“Morning, Ms. Jacobson,” she greeted, lifting a hand in a casual wave. The motion caused her collar to slip slightly, revealing an obvious red mark just below her collarbone.
It looked like a hickey.
D
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