Chapter 89
Frederick’s jaw locked so tightly the muscle ticked, his bloodshot eyes swimming with intense moisture.
He took a predatory step toward her.
Maeve immediately backed away.
He kept advancing relentlessly, forcing her to stumble backward again.
Her heel caught on an uneven stepping stone. Steadying herself, she turned sharply to retreat into the house.
But Frederick closed the distance in a single, explosive stride, violently cutting off her escape. His massive hand clamped down on her wrist like a vice, forcefully shoving the scorched ring back toward her finger.
Maeve’s face contorted in panic. She grabbed his arm with both hands, hitting him, frantically trying to push him off.
“Frederick, I already made myself perfectly clear! Our marriage is dead, and I want a divorce. The moment you abandoned me over and over for Zoe, the moment you drafted that fake contract to manipulate me and destroyed my trust, we became history p>
Using his free hand, Frederick aggressively pinned both of her wrists together, lifting her arm as he ruthlessly jammed the metal band back onto her ring finger.
“Mae p>
“You have to listen to me. I had a reason for doing all of that p>
Watching his mouth move, Maeve completely tuned out his desperate excuses. She stared down at the ring she had finally found the strength to throw away, now viciously forced back onto her finger. The metal violently scraped her skin, causing a sharp sting. She curled her fingers inward defensively, shaking her head frantically as she shrank away from his overpowering frame.
“I don’t love you anymore, Frederick! You are never going to trap me in this marriage again p>
Frederick’s face darkened with dangerous intensity, his pitch-black eyes locking onto her like a predator.
The chilling, possessive obsession radiating from his gaze made her blood run entirely cold. The suffocating tension locked her firmly in place.
Seeming satisfied that she had finally stopped fighting, the fury in his brow fractionally eased. He loosened his crushing grip on her wrists, using his thumb to securely press the ring into place.
Just then, a broom materialized out of nowhere, swinging furiously toward his back.
Smack! Thud!
It hammered down on him in a chaotic frenzy.
“What kind of creep are you? Let go of Maeve right now p>
Frederick let out a muffled groan of pain, his hands momentarily losing their strength. The ring he had been fighting to force onto her hand slipped free, clattering onto the pavement. Even under the assault, his sheer instinct kicked in, and he immediately pulled Maeve securely against his chest to shield her from the blows.
Buried tightly in his embrace, the familiar, crisp scent of his mint cologne flooded her senses. It was the scent she had once craved above all else, the one that used to make her feel invincible. Now, it provoked absolutely nothing but emotional exhaustion.
“Ugh p>
Frederick grunted heavily again. Seeing her father swinging the broom with enough rage to break bones, Maeve immediately intervened.
“Dad! Dad, stop hitting him p>
The untouchable, arrogant Frederick Fairchild had never suffered such a humiliating beating in his entire life.
As satisfying as it was to watch, she was terrified this absolute psycho would suddenly snap and attack her father in retaliation.
Marcus delivered one final, brutal smack across Frederick’s back before lowering the weapon. He casually stepped forward, putting on a highly exaggerated mask of shock.
“Oh, Frederick! It’s just you! I saw some guy harassing my daughter from a mile away and figured it was some street thug p>
Frederick refused to let go, his chest heaving as he buried his face in the crook of Maeve’s neck to catch his breath.
Maeve shoved hard against his chest, calling out dryly.
“Dad p>
“Dad,” Frederick echoed breathlessly, immediately grabbing her wrist and trying to drag her toward the house.
“Maeve and I need to clear the air. We’re going inside p>
Marcus stepped right in smoothly, physically wedging his broad shoulders perfectly between the two of them.
“Those burns on your hands look nasty. We are treating your injuries first. Your little conversation can wait p>
Frederick tried to catch Maeve’s eye, but Marcus completely blocked his line of sight, leaving him with zero choice but to relent.
“Fine p>
Once they were inside, Marcus deliberately kept intercepting Frederick, expertly preventing him from getting a single moment alone with Maeve.
The stalemate lasted until Vivian finally came home. She smoothly called Marcus away to another room, pulling Maeve aside to whisper a firm piece of advice.
“Since he flew all the way out here, you need to look him in the eye and talk. Good or bad, the two of you need to hash it out and properly end things p>
Maeve realized her mother was right. Running away was no longer a viable strategy. Frederick ha dd tracked her across the country absolutely hellbent on getting a final answer.