Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 120: Chapter 120
You are reading Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back, Chapter 120: Chapter 120. Read more chapters of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back.
"Elena Bennett, did you sleep with Simon Whitmore?" Victor Whitmore demanded.
Elena's eyes flew wide. "Victor Whitmore, what nonsense are you spouting?" she cried.
Victor flicked his cigarette butt onto the asphalt and barked, "Flirting right under my nose—do you dare claim there's nothing between you two? If nothing's going on, why would he step in to rescue you? That night, did you sleep with him? Answer me!"
His roar left Elena bewildered; her wrist felt as though it might snap beneath his grip.
"Do you think everyone is as filthy as you?" Elena shot back.
"I told you to answer me! He's no saint—if you'd been drugged, he wouldn't have spared you. You slept with him, didn't you? Elena Bennett, have you no shame?" Victor snarled.
The more Victor ranted, the more deranged he sounded, as if he'd burst into the bedroom with photographic proof.
Elena's fury exploded. "Yes! I slept with him—so what? You're no longer my fiancé. You don't get to police my bed!"
Victor's chest caved in, his eyes widening as though a toy he'd always owned had sprouted legs and run into another man's arms.
"Elena Bennett!" he shouted.
The instant her phone rang, Elena wrenched free, fishing it from her purse.
A pair of bold characters—"Simon"—glowed on the screen. The phone was a gift from Simon himself; Elena had never stored anyone else's number, so the contact name had to be his own handiwork.
She barely touched the accept button before Victor snatched the device and hurled it out the open window.
Elena stared at him, aghast. "What are you doing?"
"Simon? How intimate. So you really are in bed with him, Elena Bennett!" Victor sneered.
He clamped her jaw, pinned her wrist, and crushed her against the seat.
Elena's voice trembled. "Victor, what do you want?"
"What do I want? Exactly what you always begged for. Didn't you dream of having me? Tonight I'll oblige you!" Victor hissed.
Terror iced Elena's blood; she had never found Victor so horrifying.
She shoved him with all her strength. "Victor Whitmore, don't do something that will make me despise you!"
Victor had lost every shred of reason; his lips crashed down.
Elena twisted away; her lips scraped his shoulder while his found her ear.
The sting of her slap jolted Victor motionless.
Elena bolted from the car, scooped up her phone, and ran—as though a monster surged at her back—until a sedan screeched to a halt in her path and Simon Whitmore stepped out, concern knitting his brow.
"What happened?" Simon asked, striding toward her.
Elena swallowed hard. "N-nothing. Victor's car broke down, so I was going to catch a cab."
Simon glanced into the darkness, eyes narrowing.
Her small hands were crimson and trembling. He took one as naturally as drawing breath; it felt colder than iron. Frowning, he guided her into the car, cupped her fingers, and warmed them with gentle breaths.
Elena's eyes reddened. As though spellbound, she threw herself into his arms.
Elena's eyes flew wide. "Victor Whitmore, what nonsense are you spouting?" she cried.
Victor flicked his cigarette butt onto the asphalt and barked, "Flirting right under my nose—do you dare claim there's nothing between you two? If nothing's going on, why would he step in to rescue you? That night, did you sleep with him? Answer me!"
His roar left Elena bewildered; her wrist felt as though it might snap beneath his grip.
"Do you think everyone is as filthy as you?" Elena shot back.
"I told you to answer me! He's no saint—if you'd been drugged, he wouldn't have spared you. You slept with him, didn't you? Elena Bennett, have you no shame?" Victor snarled.
The more Victor ranted, the more deranged he sounded, as if he'd burst into the bedroom with photographic proof.
Elena's fury exploded. "Yes! I slept with him—so what? You're no longer my fiancé. You don't get to police my bed!"
Victor's chest caved in, his eyes widening as though a toy he'd always owned had sprouted legs and run into another man's arms.
"Elena Bennett!" he shouted.
The instant her phone rang, Elena wrenched free, fishing it from her purse.
A pair of bold characters—"Simon"—glowed on the screen. The phone was a gift from Simon himself; Elena had never stored anyone else's number, so the contact name had to be his own handiwork.
She barely touched the accept button before Victor snatched the device and hurled it out the open window.
Elena stared at him, aghast. "What are you doing?"
"Simon? How intimate. So you really are in bed with him, Elena Bennett!" Victor sneered.
He clamped her jaw, pinned her wrist, and crushed her against the seat.
Elena's voice trembled. "Victor, what do you want?"
"What do I want? Exactly what you always begged for. Didn't you dream of having me? Tonight I'll oblige you!" Victor hissed.
Terror iced Elena's blood; she had never found Victor so horrifying.
She shoved him with all her strength. "Victor Whitmore, don't do something that will make me despise you!"
Victor had lost every shred of reason; his lips crashed down.
Elena twisted away; her lips scraped his shoulder while his found her ear.
The sting of her slap jolted Victor motionless.
Elena bolted from the car, scooped up her phone, and ran—as though a monster surged at her back—until a sedan screeched to a halt in her path and Simon Whitmore stepped out, concern knitting his brow.
"What happened?" Simon asked, striding toward her.
Elena swallowed hard. "N-nothing. Victor's car broke down, so I was going to catch a cab."
Simon glanced into the darkness, eyes narrowing.
Her small hands were crimson and trembling. He took one as naturally as drawing breath; it felt colder than iron. Frowning, he guided her into the car, cupped her fingers, and warmed them with gentle breaths.
Elena's eyes reddened. As though spellbound, she threw herself into his arms.
End of Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back Chapter 120. Continue reading Chapter 121 or return to Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back book page.