Realizing that she was hell-bent on pushing him away, Mitchel's fury returned like a tidal wave.

He grabbed her pointed chin with his hand and sneered, "It seems you still haven't learned your lesson."

The moon shone in.

Mitchel pressed down.

When his skin touched hers, he couldn't think of anything else other than inserting his dick into her.

Suddenly, a tear fell on the back of his cold hand.

A few more came like pearls, creating a small puddle.

These cold tears were scalding like fire, making his heart inexplicably tighten.

Every expression she made was resistant. Even the lines on her forehead said no to him.

Her unwillingness almost drove him crazy.

His face became even more unsightly than ever. In his head, he imagined tearing Henley's face bit by bit.

Mitchel's brows crinkled to the extent that they touched each other.

In a matter of seconds, he buttoned his shirt, pulled on his pants, and slammed the door on his way out.

As he descended the stairs, he saw the maid at the door.

“Sir, are you going out?"

Mitchel nodded. Seeing the medicine box in her hand, he stopped and asked, “What's that?"

The maid looked down and said, "Oh, here is the healing medicine.

I'm going to give it to madam."

“She got hurt again?" His eyebrows knitted in confusion.

The maid was surprised.