The skin beneath his brows was flushed red, his eyes burning.
The moment he saw me, he let out a soft chuckle.
“Alice, you’re getting harder and harder to control.”
He pressed me against the sofa, yet even now, he still placed a hand on my waist to keep me from hitting the armrest.
His gaze was dark, like a raging storm.
“Where’s Lily Shaws?”
I tilted my head up and asked, but he only scoffed lightly.
“She’s gone.”
“You left the house with her this morning.”
“I got rid of her a long time ago.”
A strange, unnameable feeling stirred in my chest.
I looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes.
His forehead lightly rested against mine.
For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a glimmer of wetness in his dark eyes.
“Alice, you didn’t drink your milk today, did you? Did you throw it away as soon as I left?”
I stayed silent.
Yes, I hadn’t touched milk in days.
Maybe I was just as stubborn as Ethan—once I didn’t want to do something, no one could make me.
But Ethan never cared whether I was willing or not.
A fresh glass of warm milk was soon placed in front of me.
He sat across from me, staring intently.
“Drink it.”
I knew the milk itself didn’t matter.
What mattered to him was whether I would listen.
I pressed my lips together, refusing to look at him.
Over the past few weeks, I tried to resist, but the outcome was never in my favor.
Tonight would probably be no different.
I refused to drink, so Ethan grabbed my chin, ready to force it down my throat.
Somehow, I could tell that he was angry again.
