He Got Engaged to His First Love On the Day I Died-Chapter 146: When I Don’t Give You Face, You’re Just Glass Shards

Chapter 146: Chapter 146: When I Don’t Give You Face, You’re Just Glass Shards

"Would you?"

He, for one, didn’t believe it.

Natalie Morgan just smiled.

Sean Lane stood up, his hands shoved in his pockets. "You should think about it. Think about the life you’ve lived all these years. Then think about one billion, plus freedom for you and your son. I’m sure you’ll make the right choice."

Natalie Morgan didn’t know what the right choice was.

But she was well aware that if she cooperated with Sean Lane, success might mean a happy outcome for everyone. Failure, however, meant a gruesome death.

The sky was gradually darkening, like a scroll slowly being saturated with ink.

Natalie Morgan stepped into the Grant residence.

Theodore Grant sat quietly on the soft sofa, his gaze fixed on the financial report in his hands.

His profile was like a meticulously carved sculpture, with smooth and elegant lines. The fabric of his pajamas seemed ordinary, yet it exuded an indescribable sense of refinement.

He didn’t look up at her, as if she were just an insignificant, transparent presence.

Natalie Morgan quietly changed her shoes and walked silently into the kitchen.

The kitchen was filled with the warm and inviting aroma of food.

She skillfully helped the servants bring the exquisite dishes to the table, the whole process natural and smooth.

A servant in the kitchen whispered to Natalie Morgan, "Sir doesn’t seem to be in a good mood."

Natalie Morgan stiffened for a moment, glanced outside, and didn’t respond.

She had long grown accustomed to Theodore Grant’s coldness and volatility. She couldn’t change it, nor did she have any interest in trying.

Once everything was ready, she walked over to the sofa and stood before him. "Mr. Grant, dinner is ready."

Her voice was soft and respectful, not crossing any lines.

Theodore Grant didn’t object to how she addressed him.

He stood up and went to the dining table.

Natalie Morgan had already filled a bowl with rice and placed it at his seat.

She then served herself a bowl, sat down quietly, and prepared to eat with him.

Just as she was about to start eating, a cold voice shattered the silence at the table.

"Who told you you could sit?"

His voice was laced with obvious anger and displeasure, like a sharp blade in a cold wind, sending a chill down her spine.

She immediately stood up from her chair. "I’m sorry."

"Remember your place." Theodore Grant’s tone was even colder.

"I understand."

Theodore Grant said nothing more. He silently took a few bites of rice, then put down his bowl and chopsticks and went upstairs.

Natalie Morgan hadn’t expected him to be so touchy.

’Then again, he’s always had a short fuse,’ she thought. ’He takes it out on others at the slightest provocation. This is just typical of him.’

’This is better. He’s the master, I’m the servant. The class lines are clearly drawn. Once he gets tired of me, he can kick me out.’

’Maybe that day will come sooner than I thought.’

At that thought, her mood actually lightened considerably.

After cleaning up, she lingered in the living room for a while before finally going upstairs to shower and rest.

She gently pushed open the bedroom door.

The man looked up at her.

His gaze was so cold it made her heart clench in fear.

She couldn’t help but think of what had happened at the office.

She was, after all, a little guilty. It wasn’t the first time she had kicked him *there*.

’Did I kick him too hard this time? Did I cause irreversible damage? Is that why he looks like he wants to eat me alive?’

"Um..." She tried to explain her earlier actions, a trace of unease in her eyes. "I didn’t mean to... It’s just, if you need to hear an apology, I can say it."

He looked at her coldly.

The corner of his lip curled into a disdainful arc. "I’ve been too easy on you."

"You shouldn’t have forced me." Her voice was faint and small, yet tinged with a certain firmness.

"Natalie Morgan, who do you think you are? If I want you, do I need your permission?" he sneered, walking up to her and backing her into a corner. "When I’m treating you well, you’re a crystal goblet. When I stop giving a damn, you’re nothing but a fucking shard of glass."

She stared at him, stunned.

She felt as if she had been brutally slapped.

’In his heart, I’ll always just be his plaything.’

’I was before, I am now, and I always will be.’

’So this is how it will always be between us.’

She lowered her lashes and said no more.

His large hand gripped her chin tightly, his eyes flashing with irrepressible fury. "What? Did my words make you uncomfortable?"

"You were the one who told me to state my terms, and now you’re putting on this chaste martyr act. Who is it for? Are you saving yourself for that dead old man, or is it for that bastard Felix Finch?"

His mockery was like a sharp blade, slicing into her heart with every word.

His words were ugly.

Natalie Morgan didn’t want to argue, so she just looked at him impassively.

Watching him rage, watching him lose his composure, watching him mock her with one sentence after another.

"Say something! Why are you silent again?" He tightened his grip, almost enough to shatter her jaw.

A sharp pain shot through her, and her brows furrowed. "What do you want me to say?"

"It was you who turned our relationship into this..." He took a deep, helpless yet vicious breath. "...I wanted to get along with you. I wanted a fresh start with you, Natalie Morgan, but you didn’t care for it.

Your heart is cold, frozen solid, impossible to thaw. Your indifference, your decisiveness... I’ve seen it all.

Since it’s like this, let’s just go back to how things were before."

She listened in silence, her heart completely still.

’He’s right. I never once thought about starting over with him.’

’And I never cared for his attempts to be nice.’

’I want him to suffer. I want him to die. This obsession is like a blazing fire that can’t be extinguished.’

They were destined to be nothing more than passersby in each other’s lives.

"Theodore Grant, I came back to Riverden with you because you saved my son. I am grateful for that, and I’m willing to do many things to repay you. But... neither you nor I are worthy of talking about feelings."

"Fine. Very good." A bitter smile touched his lips. "Then you can wait until I’m sick of playing with you, and then you can get the hell out of Riverden."

He reached out, swept her into his arms, and then threw her heavily onto the large, soft bed.

The air seemed to freeze in that moment, so quiet that only their heartbeats could be heard.

Immediately after, a blazing wave of heat washed over her, instantly overwhelming her senses.

He didn’t kiss her.

There was no foreplay.

His movements were rough and merciless, without a single shred of pity or gentleness.

It was as if he were venting all the anger and dissatisfaction in his heart.

Natalie Morgan silently closed her eyes, painfully enduring his overwhelming, tsunami-like force.

’This is the reality I have to face.’

When it was over, he callously pushed her away as if discarding a worn-out rag and commanded in a frigid voice, "Get out."

With trembling hands, she clutched her clothes to herself, turned in disarray, and fled to the guest bedroom.

She stood silently under the gushing shower, letting the water stream over every inch of her skin.

On her fair skin, deep and shallow finger marks stood out like glaring scars, cruelly revealing everything that had just happened.

She closed her eyes, tears mingling with the water as they silently streamed down her face.

In that moment, she felt as if she were in a cold, dark abyss, completely helpless...