Mitchel’s gaze held a profound, suppressed sorrow, and the veins on his hand bulged as he clenched his fist. In a measured tone, he declared, “I am your husband.”
His implication rested on the premise that he possessed the right to draw near her. She was his wife, and in his eyes, his actions didn’t constitute coercion.
“Mr. Dixon, are you not aware that I’ve lost my memory about you?”
Raegan inquired.
Raegan gestured toward the bustling servers, adding, “To me, you’re no different from the strangers passing by.”
At those words, Mitchel pressed his lips tightly. Abruptly, he reached out, gripping her wrist and forcefully guiding her aside.
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“You!” Raegan didn’t have time to resist and found herself ushered into a chamber.
With a bang, the door slammed shut with force, the echo of the lock reverberating through the room.
Mitchel pressed Raegan against the wall, his touch unyielding. His hand enveloped her waist while the other was propped near her ear.
In an instant, the confined space was awash with the inviting fragrance of Mitchel’s cologne, permeating every breath Raegan took.
Their closeness was evident, causing a sensation of suffocation to engulf Raegan.
Raegan abruptly snapped back to reality, her breath quickening. She exerted herself to push him away, demanding, “Mitchel! What are you up to now?”
Mitchel possessed exceptional strength. His hold on her waist remained unyielding, impervious to her most ardent efforts.
That left Raegan feeling trapped, unable to free herself from his control. In a fit of anger and frustration, she glared at him. “Let me go!” Raegan yelled, her voice edged with frustration.
Mitchel dipped his head, his gaze carrying a dangerous intensity. “Am I nothing more than a stranger to you?” he inquired.
Raegan remained utterly speechless, opting to ignore him. However, she found herself ensnared, unable to break free. His grip on her waist tightened as if he intended to coerce her into speaking.
A pained wince escaped Raegan, and her brow furrowed. “Mitchel, have you lost your mind?”
Raegan’s anger had permeated deep into her heart, fueling an urge to vent her frustration even if it meant biting Mitchel a few times.
Mitchel gazed at her in silence for an extended moment, his voice eventually descending into a hushed whisper. “Do I really mean nothing to you?” He spoke in a low, wounded tone.
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Trapped within his grasp, Raegan’s anger smoldered, and she responded sternly, “Even if you ask a hundred times, the answer is still yes.”
A heavy silence settled in the room.
Mitchel’s eyes narrowed slightly, giving him an intimidating aura.
“Please release me,” Raegan requested calmly, having taken a deep breath to steady herself, her tone displaying indifference. She was aware that the angrier she became, the more control he held over her.
“You’re not considering another ki*s, are you?” Raegan posed her question with a mocking smile. “Mr. Dixon, is your desire that insatiable? If you’re truly that horny, I can find you some prostitutes.”