I Walked Away And He Lost His Mind (Zephyra and Steven) novel Chapter 175

With a sharp rip, the buttons on my blouse were torn off, one of them clattering to the floor. A sudden chill ran down my spine as my shoulders and collarbone were exposed.

A tidal wave of panic crashed over me as I realized what he was about to do. My pupils constricted. “Mmph (Let go)…”

Steven did release my lips. His usually refined face was now streaked with blood, his lips stained a vivid red, giving him a strangely demonic look. His dark eyes, filled with a deep-seated rage, bored into me. His long, slender fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt, his touch a malicious taunt.

“The places I’ve touched… has he touched them too?”

This was pure humiliation. I was so enraged I reached for something else on his desk to hit him with.

“Steven, I’m going to fucking kill you!”

But he caught my hand, his eyes like ice. “I asked you a question!”

“No! Horace is not a filthy, perverted, disgusting pig like you!” I must have truly lost my mind, because I managed to wrench my hand free, scramble off his lap, and slap him across the face with all my might. My eyes were burning with rage.

“Steven, if you dare touch me, I swear I will have you arrested today! I mean it!”

“Even if you refuse to divorce me, even if we are married, you cannot touch me without my consent! And don't you dare tell me I have no proof. The blood on your forehead, the slap mark on your face, and the bruises on my wrist are all proof of my resistance!”

“And even if I don’t get what I want in the end, even if I still can’t divorce you, I guarantee that your losses will be a thousand times greater than mine!”

The CEO of a publicly traded company in a loveless marriage, accused of marital rape—that would be enough to fuel public outrage for a long time. It would be impossible for it not to have an impact.

Steven’s gaze fell to my wrist, where several red marks were already turning purple—a result of my desperate struggle against his iron grip.

He seemed to sober up a little, but the look in his eyes was still one of suppressed frustration and turmoil.

“What you call a huge loss would be nothing more than a scratch to me. And if news gets out that you won’t let me touch you, you’re the one who’s more likely to be humiliated.”

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