By admin No Mercy, No Forgiveness Novel Ch 140
Maureen glanced at the sterile container holding the precious sample she’d struggled to obtain–it was time to leave.
As she tried to slip from Geoffrey’s embrace, his arms only tightened around her.
Left with no choice, she secretly stashed the container beneath the bed, planning to retrieve it after Geoffrey left for work tomorrow.
Looking up at Geoffrey’s sleeping face, Maureen was overwhelmed with guilt and silently mouthed:
“Last time I apologized, I meant it–but not for faking my death to leave
you.”
“It’s for this…”
Jacob and Ethan were forced upon me.
That didn’t make me feel indebted. But this time, hiding the truth from Geoffrey felt wrong.
Yet she had to do it. Only this way could she keep her children.
The next morning.
Dawn was breaking.
Geoffrey woke with a throbbing headache and immediately looked
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down. Maureen was still in his arms.
Relief washed over him.
He pulled her closer.
Just then, he noticed an old scar resembling a knife wound marring the smooth skin of her back.
Maureen stirred awake and was about to rise when Geoffrey asked:
“How did you get that scar on your back?”
Maureen froze.
She gazed at Geoffrey’s all–too–familiar face, her eyes filled with sorrow and resentment. “You don’t remember?”
This scar–she took it for him back then.
He’d actually forgotten?
Maureen thought Geoffrey and Sean truly deserved being called brothers, both equally ungrateful.
Yet Geoffrey genuinely couldn’t recall: “When was this?”
Maureen’s throat tightened. “When I was seventeen.”
Back when he first took the reins at Sutton Group.
He’d nearly been stabbed–whether by distant relatives of the Suttons or business rivals remained unclear–until she threw herself in front of
him.
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Many in the Sutton family knew this story. Yet he’d forgotten…
Geoffrey’s hand brushed the scar on her back, his gaze darkening. “Who did it?”
Maureen shook her head.
“Don’t know. They never caught them.”
Geoffrey fell silent for a moment before lowering his head to kiss her.
Comforting others never came naturally to him; this was his only language.
But as his lips were just landing, Maureen ducked away.
“The hour’s getting late. You should head to the office.”
Maureen spoke evenly.
She’d gotten what she wanted. No need for further entanglements.
The sudden chill made Geoffrey’s brow furrow.
Just last night, she’d burned like wildfire against him.
Geoffrey held her tight, refusing to let go. “Not going to the office.”
He savored this moment, pressing kisses to Maureen’s cheek, nose bridge, lips…
The man resembled an insatiable predator…
Maureen had gotten what she wanted and was all coldness now,
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turning her face away.
Geoffrey caught every nuance of her reaction. Though bewildered by her sudden shift, he’d held back for years.
Sunlight streamed through the windows–noon already.
Maureen pressed against Geoffrey’s chest. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”
Only then did he relent, keeping her in his embrace.
“Fine. I’ll have food brought up.”
Ruffling Maureen’s hair, Geoffrey spoke with unprecedented tenderness: “Let me hold you a little longer.”
She found him baffling. He’d despised her for years, claimed indifference mere days ago, yet now acted utterly devoted.
Suddenly, Geoffrey murmured against her hair: “I know you drugged me last night.”
Maureen looked up at Geoffrey in disbelief.
Geoffrey wasn’t angry. He gazed at her and said word by word: “Tell me now, what do you want?”
They were inches apart. Maureen met his complicated gaze and lied: “I’m just unwilling. I want to have you once.”
Another lie!
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Geoffrey pressed her head against his chest and chuckled softly, tears in his laughter: “You’ve got me now. What next?”
“Do you want to leave me?”
Maureen was held firmly by his large hand, her shoulder feeling like it was about to break.
“I…”
Before she could finish, Geoffrey cut her off: “Believe it or not, without my permission, you’ll never get out of Karaville?
!”
Maureen trembled slightly: “I promised you I’d leave after paying off the debt. Besides, Ethan is still here, isn’t he?”
“Where will you get that much money?”
Geoffrey asked.
Though he knew Maureen was a famous composer abroad, the amount he demanded was beyond her current means in the short term.
“I’ll earn it slowly with my own hands,” Maureen paused, looking up at him from his embrace, “and I won’t take advantage of you.”
But Geoffrey got even angrier and tightened his grip.
Maureen frowned: “It hurts.”
The man instantly let go.
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Maureen, wrapped in the quilt, shifted backward: “I’ll get up first.”
She’d intended to find clothes to wear, but discovered the garments on the floor were either torn to shreds or tangled with Geoffrey’s clothes in complete disarray.
She could only clutch the thin quilt, preparing to climb down, yet before moving half a step, Geoffrey pulled her back into his embrace.