Classic Novel
Chapter 183
Chapter 183
Megan looked into Sullivan’s eyes, which were deeper than the night sky itself, and found herself unable to decipher his thoughts. This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.
After a moment, he asked softly, “You saw it?”
Pointing to the papers scattered on the floor, Megan’s entire body shook uncontrollably. “You used psychologists to study me, to manipulate me? Sullivan, what am I to you? A wife, or just a plaything? You say you love me, but is your love just about analyzing me in front of a dozen psychologists as if I’m laid
bare?
You got a puppy to please me! I thought you understood me, but it was all just a psychological game! Even the dog… was just a tool for you!
Everything you did, it was all calculated, even down to when we would be intimate. You’ve stripped me of my privacy, my dignity! You don’t love me; you’re just obsessively trying to possess me! Sullivan, you’re not capable of love!”
Tears filled Megan’s.eyes.
It was humiliating. Utterly humiliating.
Every time she gathered the courage to leave him, he would cling on, not letting go, convincing her time and again of his sincerity that he truly cared for her. She had even begun to look forward to having his child.
But the truth was brutal.
In his eyes, she wasn’t his wife but a woman easily obtained with just a bit of effort. He watched her downfall, time and time again!
The study was eerily quiet.
The glass of the French doors was misted over, but the light snowfall outside was still visible.
Sullivan remained calm, especially when Megan accused him of not being capable of love. His eyes were as dark as ink, unfathomable.
Finally, he walked over, picked up the papers, and shredded them. Amid the whirring sound of the shredder, he retorted coldly, “I’m not capable of love? Then who is? Begonia Hunter?”
He watched Megan silently as she instinctively stepped back.
She knew him well, having been his wife for years. He seemed like he was back to their early days of marriage, capable of pinning her down, tormenting and dominating her until she could no longer voice her objections.
But as she moved, he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Then, he threw her onto the dark oak desk. Her robe hitched up, revealing her pale, delicate legs in a compromising position.
Sullivan forced his way between her legs.
His belt dug painfully into her soft skin. He showed no mercy, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him.
Her posture was demeaning as if she was throwing herself at him and willingly embracing him.
Sullivan pressed against her, his words harsh and cruel. “You talk about being a plaything? Mrs. Lowry, does a plaything require so much attention?
Did I need to spend money on legal fees for a plaything’s brother? Did I need to carry a plaything’s father down ten flights of stairs? Did I need to care about a plaything’s feelings… to the point of zipping up my pants even when I desired you?”
Megan trembled uncontrollably.
Sullivan gently pinched her chin, forcing her to part her lips.
His fingers, rough with calluses, brushed against her soft lips, quickly turning them a tender red.
He untied her robe, his voice dripping with mockery, “Mrs. Lowry, you can’t have it all and then some! Yes, I had psychologists analyze you to win you over, but didn’t you also enjoy the benefits? Your whole family profited because of me. Everything you wear, everything you use, isn’t it all provided by me? Even this sexy robe you’re using to seduce me was bought with my money!”