"Tanya Sinclair, I’m talking to you." Vincent Hawthorne’s tone was grim as he released one hand to grip her chin, forcing her to look at him directly.
She was so thin; her wrists clasped together could be tightly grasped by his single hand.
She couldn’t even escape.
Yet Vincent suddenly felt a bit panicked.
He watched as the warmth slowly faded from Tanya’s eyes, her anger completely subdued. Those eyes, always brimming with love and resembling clear water, now beneath him were a stagnant pool.
Tanya should be anxiously explaining to him like before, afraid of his misunderstanding... Or if she’s still mad because of Cindy Lynn, she should be causing a fuss, crying, or even going crazy!
Anything but... this silence and indifference.
"Tanya." Vincent finally felt an unprecedented panic as he released his hand, noticing Tanya’s chin reddened from his grip.
"I’m sorry." Vincent rarely showed his helplessness as he awkwardly explained, "... I drank too much tonight, and everything happened so suddenly, I lost control of my emotions."
Tanya seemed not to be listening; she just sat up, coldly tidied the clothes Vincent had disheveled.
As she raised her hand, a sharp pain shot through her wrist. Read complete version only at novel(ꜰ)ire.net
Tanya frowned slightly.
Her wrist bone was nearly dislocated from his grip...
"Tanya!" Seeing Tanya speechlessly about to leave, Vincent became completely panicked, instinctively reaching out to hold her.
Tanya turned around without hesitation, raised the other hand, and slapped his face.
Her wrist hurt so much that she couldn’t exert much force; the slap didn’t pain him much.
Actually, if not for Tanya’s cold expression, it seemed more like playful affection between spouses.
But Vincent suddenly felt that something between them had shattered.
"I’ll have the equipment handled by the procurement department first thing tomorrow, expedited. Don’t forget to sign."
"..." Vincent pressed his lips, many words lingering at his throat but eventually swallowed back, only hoarsely replying, "Okay."
Tanya stopped at the staircase but didn’t turn back.
"Vincent Hawthorne," she spoke, name and surname coldly forming each word, "I don’t know any second son of The Pierce Family. I have never done anything to betray our marriage. If I did, may the heavens strike me dead!"
She actually wanted to ask, then Vincent, do you dare to swear?
But such entanglement was too tiresome.
It seemed like she couldn’t let go, needed to prove something.
She was too exhausted.
Hate and love alike, obsession becomes hurtful.
Now, all Tanya feels is endless desolation and indifference; she no longer has the strength to hate Vincent.
She just wants to leave him as soon as possible.
On the sofa, Vincent listened to her footsteps fade away, the tension in his rigid back slowly relaxing.
He leaned back, closed his eyes against the sofa cushions, hearing her unfeeling voice echoing.
His throat moved dryly, unable to articulate his emotions at the moment.
In memory, Tanya rarely addressed him with his full name; when she did occasionally, it was with a hint of playful teasing.
Not just playful teasing, even her anger over the years was measured, within the bounds he could tolerate.
Loving to the extreme, then born becomes fear, anxious of gains and losses.
Tanya was afraid of him.
Vincent knew this better than anyone.
His Tanya, always the most obedient and gentle before him.
No matter the time, whenever he needed her, she would appear, help him without reservation.
Vincent had never imagined the day Tanya would be so indifferent... as if possessed.
A deep scar was etched on Vincent’s brow.
He didn’t understand, where did things between them go wrong?
Tanya closed the study door.
She sat on the couch, trying to move her wrist.
Still some pain, the redness encircling her wrist likely turning bluish tomorrow.
Besides Vincent’s heavy hand, her fair skin also easily showed marks.
Tonight, she didn’t want to see Vincent again, planning to sleep in the study.
When work got too busy before, she’d spend all day in the study, so the small couch was actually a fold-out bed, with pillows that expanded into a quilt.
The study also had a small shower, practically forming a mini-suite.
Just as she was about to shower, her phone rang with a video call request from Daisy Bell.
This time, Daisy used her main account to call.
Tanya’s WeChat was also logged onto her computer, so she answered there, tucking her hands under the desk.
"Of course I miss you, baby! Haven’t seen you in so long; do you miss me?" Daisy seemed to have night scenes to shoot later, being in her mobile home and still wearing her wig.
Mere twenty minutes ago, she’d been chatting with her alternate account.
No choice, her best friend’s got to be pampered.
Tanya smiled a bit helplessly yet indulgently, "Miss you, miss you, ten minutes apart feels like three years. When are you finishing your shoot to come back?"
Today Daisy helped her with two big tasks, gifting her a car and assisting in finding a lawyer. Once she returns, Tanya must treat Daisy to a big meal.
"Still early, but I can take two days off next week to return to Aris for a film festival."
"Alright, then let me know in advance when you’re available, we’ll have a meal together."
"Got it." Of course, Daisy happily agreed, her sharp eyes suddenly spotting a beautiful box tumbling from the couch behind Tanya.
"Baby Tanya, what’s in that box?"
Tanya glanced back, remembering the gift Vincent gave her at The Dissonance, one she hadn’t looked at before tossing it in her bag.
If not for Daisy’s mention, she might have forgotten about it.
"Vincent gifted me this tonight, haven’t opened it yet." Tanya admitted.
Hearing Vincent’s name, Daisy rolled her eyes first but still curious, "Open it and see what’s inside? That wrapping looks quite expensive. Tanya, in your years with Vincent, he’s never given you anything valuable, right?"
Tanya couldn’t refute nor did she want to make excuses for Vincent.
On anniversaries or Valentine’s Day, she’d receive flowers from Vincent, always arranged by his assistant.
Not only for her but for significant clients on their birthdays as well.
The difference being she only got a bouquet she particularly disliked and a card, while those clients received carefully chosen valuable gifts.
Tanya opened the gift box in front of the camera, with Daisy watching.
"Vincent gave you this?!" Seeing its contents, Daisy’s voice shot up an octave!