The Runaway Groom

Chapter 8

Did he not just leave her with that pervert? Why would he show up here? To laugh at her?

Haha!

“Isaac Jefferson?” Irene snapped, pointing at the man despite the killing intent swirling around him, boosted by liquid courage and not knowing fear just then. “You are... a real bastard!”

Isaac‘s face turned dark instantly, while Stan and Mrs. Watson kept their heads down in fearful silence.

Even so, Irene shambled forward, grabbing Isaac‘s necktie and pulling him toward herself. “You thought I wanted to marry you? You think you’re some sort of god?”

The alcoholic fumes she breathed left Isaac frowning, and anger brewed in his eyes as he deftly caught her wrist.” You‘re crazy.”

She was willing to play along with any man. He had tried to corner her and make her ask for a divorce, but she was as dumb as a donkey and refused to yield.

Still, he had changed his mind after she left with Harvey

-regardless of what had happened, she was his wife, even if he felt repulsed that she had been defiled.

“You‘re the crazy one.” Irene‘s hands never stopped clawing at him drunkenly, in retaliation against Isaac for letting that man molest her!

Glowering, Isaac dragged her upstairs by the wrist, even as she tried to shake him off. “Let me go! Let me go...”

Bang!

He kicked open the bedroom door and flung her inside, causing her to stumble and drop to her knees.

“Ah... Urgh...” she moaned as she clutched her kneecaps, and her voice gave Isaac pause.

That voice… His mind seemed to return to that night for a split second.

sounded a

present, Irene looked up to

spiteful, but he was also violent-she was already

to his senses as he

eyes, he growled, “You

was drunk, but her head was

but her ankles caved and she stumbled , so she had to catch something

balance, she suddenly felt a coldness filling the room. She slowly looked up to find Isaac‘s dark, icy gaze, and realized that she had caught his pants with both hands, which would have

already left Isaac‘s business attire a

let go, but the legs of his pants were

she averted her eyes. “I–I didn‘t

chilling chuckle.

Wait...

Isaac a glare. “What

yourself? Your own

stung Irene in the heart, but it could not be denied that he had seen

night left her flinching, but

maintained a calm look.

avoid it, afraid that someone would find out... and in turn

a sinister glare as he grabbed her neck. “Tell me! How the hell is this possible?

a murderous intent in his words

the worst humiliation he had ever suffered in his

was choking. Her face, which was already scarlet from all that alcohol, became redder

what air remained out of her throat as she wheezed, “Let...

off her blouse and fell audibly onto the

eyes darting straight past her pretty collarbones to her black lacy bra, and he was soon left staring at

was still gasping.

her ears, while her raspy, uneven

that he had been staring for