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 lot like

the present, Irene looked up to glare

but he was also

senses as he met

inside and narrowing his eyes, he growled,

a matter of fact, Irene was drunk, but her head was

caved and she stumbled ,

a coldness filling the room. She slowly looked up to find Isaac‘s dark, icy gaze,

so, that already left Isaac‘s business attire a mess

let go, but the legs of his pants were already

her eyes. “I–I didn‘t

a chilling chuckle.

Wait...

a glare. “What are you

yourself? Your own

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

night left her flinching,

maintained a calm look.

would find out... and

glare as he grabbed her neck. “Tell me! How the hell is this possible? How could you cheat on me, and still

in his words – Isaac Jefferson‘s wife was

the worst humiliation he

which was already scarlet from all that alcohol, became redder as

what air remained out of her throat as she

flailed violently, two buttons snapped off her

collarbones to her black lacy bra, and he

Irene was

loosely beside her ears, while her raspy, uneven

for too long, Isaac quickly turned