Nicole's brow furrowed with anger, her voice tinged with disgust as she demanded, "Let me go, you shameless bastard!"

But Jarrod refused to let her go. He fixed his eyes on her.

Unfortunately, he couldn't vent his desire on her, so he could only endure it. He said hoarsely, “Bathe me properly, and I promise not to touch you."

Nicole was seething with anger, knowing she could no longer hurt him like before. Besides, his punishment was severe. No matter how hard she endured it, her efforts would be in vain once he became alert.

Nicole was left with no choice. She reluctantly grabbed a towel and snapped, “Fine! I'll bathe you.

Jarrod responded with a satisfied grin. He let go of Nicole, held the rim of the bathtub, and leaned back, enjoying her ministrations.

When Nicole had to lather his hair, she could only face him because her posture was inconvenient.

Jarrod kept his eyes shut, saving her from his piercing stare.

Although Jarrod's face was cold, he was still as handsome as ever.

Every part of his facial features was chiseled and sharp. They were so perfect that they were difficult to ignore. But what good was a handsome face if he was a beast? He was a perfect example of the old saying, "A human's heart is inherently wicked."

Jarrod was so selfish that he imposed his dark thoughts on Nicole.

If Nicole obeyed, he'd toss her a bone like she was a trained pet.

If she resisted, he would lock her in a cage and torment her until she yielded.

After living abroad for three years, Jarrod's last shred of humanity wore away. What was left in him now was only the devil's spawn.

Nicole must have washed Jarrod's hair so long that Jarrod had gotten impatient. He suddenly opened his eyes.

Their gazes met in the murky glow of the bathroom. And Jarrod saw the undisguised hatred in Nicole's eyes. The way she looked at him, it was as if she wanted to tear his flesh off his bones. It was only then that Jarrod realized this was the real Nicole, no disguise or pretense.

Nicole's loathing for Jarrod was as undiluted and resolute as it could be, an engulfing fire that left no space for uncertainty.

Jarrod's smirk was like a beacon of detached amusement, illuminating his lips with a mix of charm and mischief. "Well... Is that the kind of Look you give someone you want to kill?"

Nicole was past the point of mincing words. It wasn't like Jarrod didn't know she hated him. "What else could it be?" Nicole retorted coldly. "Do you expect me to look at you affectionately as if I'm in love with you? I'm in love with the thought of you being six feet under."

Jarrod reached out and stroked her chin with his index finger. He frowned slightly and said, "You are always defiant. Tell me. How would you like to be punished?"