His Destructive, Toxic Love

She stared at him, stunned. It felt like he'd slapped her hard across the face.

To him, she had always been nothing more than a toy. It was like that before, it was like that now, and it would always be that way. Their relationship would never change.

She lowered her eyelashes, choosing silence.

His large hand gripped her chin tightly, his eyes flickering with barely contained rage. "What? Did my words make you uncomfortable?"

"You were the one who asked me to set the conditions. Now you act like some virtuous woman. Who are you trying to impress? Are you keeping yourself pure for the old man who's already dead, or for Aaron?"

His mocking words cut into her heart like sharp blades. But Eliza didn't want to argue. She just looked at him calmly, watching him get angry, lose his composure, and mock her with every word.

"Speak up. Why are you silent again?" He tightened his grip on her chin, almost crushing it.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

She winced from the sharp pain, frowning. "What do you want me to say?"

"You turned our relationship into this," he said, a mix of helplessness and harshness in his tone. He took a deep breath. "I wanted to get along with you, to start over, Eliza, but you couldn't care less. Your heart is cold, frozen solid, unmeltable, indifferent, and resolute. I see it all. So, let's just go back to how things were."

She listened silently, but inside, she

felt nothing. He was right; she had

never thought about starting over with him She had never cared for his gestures of goodwill. She wanted him to suffer, to die. This burning obsession was like an unquenchable flame.

They were destined to be strangers passing through each other's lives.

"Casper, I came back to Falconridge because you saved my son. I'm grateful for that, and I'm willing to do a lot for it, but... neither of us deserves to talk about love."

"Fine, very well." A bitter smile curled at the corner of his mouth. "Then just wait until I'm tired of you, and you can get the hell out of Falconridge."

He stretched out his arms, scooped her up, and threw her harshly onto the soft king-sized bed. The air seemed to freeze at that moment, the silence so profound that only their heartbeats could be heard.

Then, a wave of intense heat

washed over her, instantly engulfing her senses. He didn't kiss her. There was no foreplay. He went straight to the point. His movements were rough and merciless, without a hint of pity or gentleness. It was as if he was venting all the anger and dissatisfaction in his heart.

Eliza silently closed her eyes, enduring the overwhelming force of his actions. This was the reality she had to face. Afterward, he coldly pushed her away like discarding a torn rag, his voice icy as he commanded, "Get out."

Trembling, she clutched her clothes tightly, turned around in a disheveled state, and hastily retreated to the guest room: Standing silently under the shower, she let the water wash over every inch of her skin. The marks on her fair skin, deep and shallow, were glaring scars, mercilessly revealing everything that had just happened.

She closed her eyes, tears mingling with the water, silently sliding down. At that moment, she felt trapped in a cold abyss, powerless.