I wiped blood from the corner of my mouth. "I wouldn't dare."
I never dared hope for anyone's forgiveness. I only wanted my Wanwan to live.
"However," I added, my voice steady, "for these next three months, Connor is mine. What do you have to say about that?"
Jade's eyes reddened with rage. She burst into tears and fled the room.
Connor instinctively tried to rush after her, but his injured leg failed him. He couldn't leave the bed.
I seized the moment. I pushed him back down, unraveled his silk tie, and bound his wrists to the headboard.
I was about to "humiliate" him.
Connor roared, eyes bloodshot with fury. "Samantha, don't you find yourself disgusting?"
Disgusting?
Perhaps. In his eyes, I was soiled goods because I had slept with a stranger. But wasn't that the very "favor" he and Jade had orchestrated for me?
After he finished—wearing an expression of utter torment, as if he were a flower being trampled by a beast—I calmly helped him pull up his pants.
He kept cursing me. I turned a deaf ear.
I picked up the insulated lunch box from the table, sat by the bed, and brought a spoonful of soup to his lips.