I Refuse to Divorce!

"Rub my temples for me," the man spoke, his voice hoarse.

Zoe set aside the book in her hands, surprisingly not harboring any resentment. She leaned over to massage him. In the past, she had learned this skill to comfort him after long hours of work.

However, as soon as she touched him, she frowned slightly. "Mason, you have a fever!"

Mason opened his eyes. Due to his illness, his usually bright black eyes seemed dim. Suddenly, his hand reached for her slender waist as if intending to engage in an intimate act.

Zoe restrained his hand, preventing him from acting recklessly.

Mason rarely fell ill, but his temper worsened each time he did. In the past, Zoe had always accommodated him, taking care of him meticulously and occasionally letting him have his way.

Mason, feeling unwell and unsatisfied, became even more disgruntled. His black eyes stared intently at Zoe. "What's wrong? You don't want to do it?"

Zoe took the initiative to sit on his lap, reaching for the medicine box while maintaining this position. She proceeded to check his temperature.

Indeed, he had a fever of 39 degrees.

She did not argue with him. "I'll get your medicine and brew some tea. You shouldn't exert yourself right now."

Mason continued to tease her, his black eyes fixed on her, ignoring her words. His gaze carried nothing but lust.

Then, he lazily retracted his hands and leaned against the couch.

Zoe sat up and adjusted her dress, ensuring the household staff did not notice. Mason might not care about his reputation as a man, but she still had to live in this house. Being too lascivious would invite gossip from the servants.

Seeing her cautious behavior, Mason could not help but snort. "We're married. Doing it in broad daylight is nothing to be ashamed of. The household staff are all mature. They won't say anything.”

Zoe thought differently, but did not argue. She went downstairs to get the medicine and had the staff prepare tea, delivering it to the upper floor.

By then, the sky had darkened, and the last trace of twilight was engulfed by darkness. The bedroom was dim when Zoe turned on the light.

When she turned on the light, Mason woke up.

His fever made him a bit drowsy. He only felt Zoe's gentle care as she helped him to drink some water. Her body felt soft, and he could not help but desire more, grabbing her hand and reaching for his belt.

He spoke, his voice husky and dissatisfied, "You didn't cook the soup. Zoe, in the past, you used to personally make soup for me. In the past, you wouldn't refuse me."

Even if they did not engage in such activities, she would still help him release his desires.

However, Zoe refused, pushing his body away. "Mason, you're sick!" Mason's face turned cold. Staring at her for a while, he laughed coldly. "You can't be bothered to deal with me because you don't love me anymore, right?"

He tossed a photo onto the table in front of her.

Zoe looked at the photo. It was of her and David, but David was only captured from behind.

Mason's voice was dull. "You're all smiles and laughter with others, but when you're with me, you act indifferent. Mrs. Lockwood, can you tell me who he is?"

Zoe could not believe it. "You had someone follow me?"

Mason did not answer. He picked up a lit cigarette from the bedside table and extinguished it after taking a harsh drag.

Zoe was trapped in his embrace, unable to escape.

With one hand gripping her arms, Mason kissed her while uttering crude words, "Last time at the club, you said you had no one you liked. Mrs. Lockwood, when you start moaning in pleasure shortly, don't just say you like it. I want to hear dirtier things.”

Zoe was stunned.

Then, she began to struggle desperately. Mason had gone mad.

She did not want this. She did not want him.