A man's low, magnetic voice sounded above her head.
But before he could finish speaking, a pillow slammed into his head.
Tristan Sterling was instantly wide awake.
He opened his eyes and met Holly Sinclair's furious gaze.
"Tristan Sterling, you bastard!"
She cursed.
Tristan Sterling's handsome face darkened.
He had just dozed off when she'd hit him awake, and a foul mood from being woken up surged through him.
"Why are you in my bed?!" she demanded, frantically trying to button up her wide-open pajamas.
"You said you were cold and wouldn't let go of me," he answered, his tone calm and unapologetic.
Holly Sinclair froze.
Scattered fragments of memory flooded her mind.
He was right.
She had indeed been the one to "initiate" it last night.
When the cold had become unbearable, she'd gripped his hand, pulled him into bed, and then desperately stripped off his clothes...
His body was so warm. She had pressed herself against his chest, greedily soaking up his heat...
But she'd been delirious at the time!
Nothing she did to him came from a place of conscious desire!!
"You took advantage of me! You... you're shameless!"
Holly Sinclair gritted her teeth, her cheeks burning crimson. It was impossible to tell if it was from humiliation and anger or her lingering fever.
She was so furious not just because he had been in her bed, but because she could now clearly feel an indescribable sensation all over her body...
She wasn't some naive little girl. She knew all too well what caused this discomfort.
He hadn't gone all the way.
But as for everything else...
He must have done it all!
"I'm shameless?" Tristan Sterling's dark eyes narrowed dangerously.
'She used me as a free heater. Am I not entitled to a little interest?'
'I'm no saint, and I'm certainly not impotent. When she was clinging to me like that, wouldn't it have been weird if I *hadn't* done something?'
Tristan Sterling felt completely justified.
He felt not a shred of guilt for his actions.
Holly Sinclair was filled with indignation. "Tristan Sterling, we're supposed to be getting a divorce—"
"Have I agreed to it?" he scoffed.
She was choked with anger. "Whether you agree or not, you shouldn't have done... that... to me when I wasn't in my right mind!"
"Done what?" His tone took on a lazy drawl.
"..." She glared at him, too mortified to say it out loud.
"Hmm?" He abruptly leaned closer.
She instinctively recoiled. "Ah..."
She was about to fall right off the bed—and land on the back of her head.
In the nick of time, the man's long arm shot out and wrapped around her waist.
"Let go of me!" She rejected his touch, pushing at him forcefully.
He pulled her in tighter, his brows furrowing in displeasure. "Are you trying to fall and break your neck?"
"I'd rather take the fall!" she said defiantly.
The man's expression instantly turned grim.
'Am I some kind of monster?'
'She'd rather get hurt than let me touch her?'
Narrowing his eyes, he stared coldly at her defiant little face. "Say that again."
"I'd rather—mmph..."
Before she could finish, his lips crushed down on hers, silencing her.
Tristan Sterling's angry kiss swept over her like a raging storm.
Holly Sinclair, of course, did not consent.
But the disparity in strength between men and women is a tale as old as time.
Weakened by her flu, she had no hope of breaking free from his hold.
Tristan Sterling pinned the disobedient woman beneath him, kissing her with punishing force.
The more she trembled in his embrace, the more his passions were stirred.
Just as they were both about to lose control, the melodious ringtone of a cell phone suddenly shattered the tension.
"The phone... Tristan, your phone..."
Feeling like she'd just been granted a pardon, Holly Sinclair quickly turned her head from side to side, dodging his kisses.
But he ignored it, continuing his assault.
Afraid he would force himself on her, she used the struggle as an opportunity to fish the constantly ringing phone from his pocket and swiped to answer the call.
Then she pressed the phone to his ear.
"Tristan..."
A sweet, gentle voice shattered the amorous atmosphere in the room.
It was Vivian Linton.
Tristan Sterling stopped.
He stared coldly down at Holly Sinclair beneath him.
Holly Sinclair ignored the man's murderous glare, her only thought to seize the opportunity to escape.
But he had already seen through her, and deliberately kept her pinned, refusing to let her go.
They were pressed so tightly together she could even feel his clear...
Holly Sinclair was mortified and furious.
Anger surged through her, and she fought back with all her strength.
In her struggle, her knee accidentally slammed into his crotch...
"HSSS—"
Tristan Sterling let out a pained grunt.
While he was in pain, she tried to escape from under him.
But just as she sat up, he viciously slammed her back down again.
"Ah!" she cried out in pain.
The sound was faint, but Vivian Linton still heard it on the other end of the line.
"Tristan? Tristan, what's wrong?"
Vivian Linton's voice was filled with concern.
"...I'm fine." Tristan Sterling shot a warning look at the unruly woman beneath him, telling her not to move, then asked Vivian on the other end, "What is it?"
"My leg is hurting so much. Can you take me to the hospital?" Vivian Linton said, her gentle voice laced with a poorly concealed sense of grievance. "If you don't have time, it's all right, I'll just..."
Tristan Sterling immediately got up. "I'll be right over."
Holly Sinclair watched with cold eyes. One moment, the man refused to let her go; the next, the instant he heard Vivian Linton's leg was hurting, he decisively got out of bed and left.
The man's figure quickly vanished out the door.
Holly Sinclair silently straightened her messy hair and the pajamas he had wrinkled and rumpled.
Her heart...
It didn't seem to ache as much as it used to.
'Before long,' she thought, 'I'll probably be completely immune to this.'
...
「The Sterling family estate.」
In the vast living room, Holly Sinclair sat across from her mother-in-law, who was taking small sips of her tea.
She waited a full ten minutes. Only after Stella Grayson had had her fill of posturing as the family matriarch did she finally speak.
"You've moved out of Azure Bay?" she asked, casting a brief glance at Holly Sinclair before elegantly setting down her exquisite teacup.
"Yes," Holly Sinclair replied.
Azure Bay was the home she shared with Tristan Sterling.
Stella Grayson's expression soured. "What is all this fuss you're making with Tristan lately?"
Every word was an accusation.
'It was the Sterling family's classic flaw: they were always right, and everyone else was always wrong.'
"A divorce."
Holly Sinclair's tone was neither deferential nor defiant, as calm as if she were talking about someone else's life.
"What did you say?!" Although she had anticipated it, Stella Grayson was still shocked to hear Holly Sinclair say the word herself.
"Your son and I are getting a divorce."
"Why?"
"You should ask your son."
"I'm asking you!" Stella Grayson snapped.
Holly Sinclair's overly calm demeanor, and her lack of respect, greatly displeased her.
'The old Holly Sinclair was always so deferential and obedient, constantly trying to please her. How dare she be so cold now?'
"Your son cheated on me."
"With whom?"
"Vivian Linton."
Hearing this, Stella Grayson's brow furrowed tightly.
After a moment of silence, she asked, "Who asked for the divorce?"
"I did," Holly said.
Stella Grayson fell silent again.
After a long moment—
She gave her daughter-in-law a cool look and began her lecture. "Holly, when a husband starts to stray, you should first look at yourself to find the reason. Don't throw a fit at the drop of a hat, and don't bring up divorce over every little thing. That will only push him further away.
"Men have social obligations. It's inevitable that they'll fool around a bit on the side. As long as he knows to come home, it's fine. As the lady of the Sterling family, you need to learn to turn a blind eye."
"Like you did?"