I Refuse to Divorce!

Zoe's resistance was futile against the force of Mason's ardor, even in sickness.

Mason easily pinned her beneath him.

Gradually, Zoe lost her strength. Eventually, she stopped struggling, burying her delicate face in the dark-colored couch. She refused to look at him or respond.

In his anger, Mason could not help but become more aggressive. He pinched her delicate chin with his slender fingers, forcing her to look at him. His words were anything but pleasant.

"Mrs. Lockwood, let's see who can make you moan louder.”

Zoe felt humiliated. She turned her face away, but Mason held her tightly. She could not escape.

Reluctantly, she was forced to stare at his handsome face.

The dim yellow light surrounded Mason, casting a soft halo around him. However, there was no tenderness in his eyes. His forehead, side profile, and neck were covered in sweat.

Mason was getting carried away, both mentally and physically. Finally, when emotions reached a critical point, he lowered his body, biting sensually at her earlobe.

"Zoe, do you still like me?"

No one likes being forced, especially when there is no restraint. Mason created quite a commotion, and Zoe knew the servants downstairs had probably heard it all.

Tears welled up in the corners of Zoe's eyes. At this moment, she was not the calm and composed Mrs. Lockwood. She was just a woman being forced into a compromising situation.

She looked into his eyes and murmured in response to his question, "Why should I like you?"

Mason lifted his gaze slightly.

Zoe repeated, "Mason, why should I still like you?"

Suddenly, her emotions surged, and the body that had softened a moment ago began to struggle again. It seemed she could not endure his touch and possession any longer.

Her voice almost erupted from her throat, filled with a mixture of indignation and sorrow. "Even though I started a new life, you pulled me back. You make me wear only the clothes you like, the hairstyle you prefer, and even in bed, you have your preferences. So tell me, Mason, why should I still like you?"

Silence enveloped the room, disturbed only by the rustling sound of the night wind through the treetops.

Although their sweat had not yet cooled in the bedroom, their hearts had turned cold.

Mason turned over, sitting on the other side of the couch. He took out a cigarette from the box, lit it, and quietly took a few puffs.

He looked at Zoe. "Without me, could your brother have returned? Mrs. Lockwood, are you now burning the bridge after crossing the river? Let me remind you, Noah hasn't crossed that river yet, and I can withdraw my support anytime."

Zoe's face turned pale. She picked up the scattered nightgown from the couch to cover her embarrassment, asking softly, "So, Mason, aren't we just using each other? It was you who said everything has a price, that emotions and marriage can be exchanged. So, I came back. What are you doing now, Mason? What else do you want besides physical intimacy and necessary social engagements?"

Mason leaned against the window. He wore a snowy white shirt, looking handsome. The black night outside could not swallow him up. He stared at his wife, listening to her eloquent words.

After a while, he sneered. "How stubborn.”

Zoe knew this argument was coming to an end.

She relaxed slightly, gazing out into the dark night. After a long time, she spoke softly, "Far less than one-millionth of you, Mr. Mason."

In the three years of marriage, even ice would help with the warmth she gave him. Now, they had reached this point.

The two did not part on good terms.

That night, even though Zoe took care of him, prepared his bath, and brought him comfortable clothes, Mason showed no gratitude.

He did not touch her during the night. There was no contact at all.

Zoe enjoyed a rare, peaceful night's sleep.

Mason was not in bed when she woke up early the next morning. Surprisingly, she heard the sound of a car starting in the courtyard. Zoe was puzzled.

“Why is Mason leaving so early today?"

She draped herself in a morning robe and walked to the terrace to take a look.

The car had not left yet, and Mason had not gotten in either. He stood beside the black RV, smoking.