Chapter 357 I Don't Want to Have Another Child
In the days that followed, Oliver kept waiting for Sarah to give in, but that moment never came.
A week later, he got word that Sarah had been injured and was in the hospital. Apparently, a passion fruit exploded in the microwave, leaving her covered in blood and rushed to the ER.
Luckily, her internal organs were fine, but she still fell into a coma for about four hours from the blood loss. When she finally woke up, it was the middle of the night.
Oliver, in a crisp white shirt, stood with his back to her, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window.
Without turning around, he asked, his voice tinged with fatigue, "You said you needed time to think, and this is your answer? Sarah, do you really think hurting yourself will make me let you take Nicole? We've been married for years; I thought you knew me better than that."
Sarah buried her face in the pillow. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, but her voice was surprisingly calm. "No one likes pain. If there was another way, who would use their own body as a bargaining chip?"
"When I was young, I often heard the elders say that a woman getting married is like a second chance, and whether her life is good or bad depends on the man she marries. Oliver, I once had high hopes for you. I once fantasized about loving you and staying by your side forever, but those dreams are so ridiculous in the face of reality. I have no way to fight back. Because you have power and influence, and the difference in strength between men and women is so stark. I can't possibly fight against you."
"So in the end, I can only use my own body as a weapon. If I'm lucky, you might think it's a painful price and restrain yourself. If I'm unlucky, I might just lose my life in vain. I know all this, but what can I do? Whether I live or die, whether I live with dignity or not, has never been up to me. From the day I met you, I have been at your mercy, unable to escape."
Sarah paused, almost painfully murmuring, "Oliver, let's make a deal! Give me Nicole, and I will recant and continue to be your wife. I will take her back to the country, and I won't interfere with your affair with Ellie. I can even clear her name. If you want to marry her, I can sign the divorce papers anytime. But I won't have surgery! Oliver, you can't just change my corneal whenever you want! Sorry! Until I die, Lester's cornea will remain a part of my body."
Sarah spoke softly, never looking at him from beginning to end.
The floor-to-ceiling window in the ward was half open, and the late summer night breeze blew in, messing up Oliver's hair and his heart.
Just now, Sarah had said so much, every word expressing her utter despair, every sentence stating the fact that she didn't love him.
Oliver chuckled and slowly walked to her bedside.
He stood by the bed, looking at her body covered in tiny wounds. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I hate being threatened the most! Do you think that if you don't recant, I can't do anything to you? Don't think I don't know that you don't want to go to jail or die. You're just threatening me, testing my limits! Sarah, sorry to disappoint you!"
Sarah stared at him, her heart pounding. After being married to him for years, she had no doubt he would do something crazy, and soon she understood.
Half a month later, her body recovered, and she returned to the detention center.
She followed the officers back to her solitary cell, and everything seemed the same as before. But when she walked into the simple little cell, she saw Oliver.
Oliver was wearing an expensive tailored suit, impeccably dressed. His snow-white shirt and neatly combed hair made him look out of place here.
Sarah backed away until she hit the iron door behind her. She turned and frantically pounded on it, trying to get out, but no one came.
She spun around, panting, staring at Oliver.
"You can't get out of here," he said, his eyes locked on hers.
He raised his hand, his long fingers hooking into his tie. With a gentle pull, the silk tie came off, and in a moment, it bound Sarah's hands.
Oliver placed her on the single bed.
The small spring bed creaked as he sat on the edge. He gently stroked her face and spoke in a low, tender voice, "Sarah, remember last time I said I would tie you up and fuck you?"
Sarah struggled desperately, looking at him in disbelief, unable to believe he was this crazy.
Oliver's long fingers fell on her rose-red lips, teasing them slowly, bit by bit, until she was no longer calm and her body burned with desire for him.
He looked at her smooth body. Although he was aroused, his voice remained cold, "Sarah, let's have a child! If we have a child, you won't have to go to jail. You like Nicole, right? Then let's have a daughter, so you won't be obsessed with her. I'll send her to a good family and give her a large sum of money."
Sarah struggled desperately, breaking down and screaming, finally crying out, "Oliver, you're crazy!"
Actually, Oliver wasn't crazy; he was just ruthless.
No matter how she struggled, he didn't untie her hands. He quickly stripped her completely and made love to her in the narrow, cramped cell. At first, she didn't feel anything, so he used lubricant.
He gripped her chin, thrusting into her repeatedly.
His eyes never left hers.
Sarah's face was buried in the pillow, crying out in pain. She didn't want to have sex with him; she rejected him.
Oliver looked at her, and suddenly, he lifted her up and pressed her against the cold window glass.
He knew her body well, using every dirty trick on her. Sarah couldn't withstand it for long and soon broke down, crying out loud. She kept saying no, but Oliver turned a deaf ear.
He enjoyed himself to the fullest, gently tugging her hair, whispering in her ear, "Look at yourself. See how different you are from before. Every time you say no, but every time I really leave, you cling to my body tightly."
Sarah looked at her reflection in the glass. She was in Oliver's arms, he was pressing against her, every move he made to possess her, every expression of hers lost in passion and desire was so clear. She stared blankly, her body trembling, shaking uncontrollably.
She tilted her head back, her hair flinging out fine beads of sweat, finally crying out in a pleading voice, "Oliver, stop! I beg you, stop, I don't want to have another child!"
But she couldn't stop him. Whether to have sex or not, whether to get pregnant or not, she had never had a choice.
That night, he went on until late into the night.
When it was over, Sarah lay naked on the small single bed, her whole body sore and weak, while Oliver simply wiped her down, then zipped up his pants and left.
After he left, Sarah still lay there, her back covered in red kiss marks.
Later, he came over every three days.
If Oliver was in a good mood, he would only make love once. But if she was disobedient, showed any resistance, or didn't let him touch her, he would press her down and make love all night, as if tireless.
Sarah lived in a daze.
A month later, Oliver came over at night, but he didn't press her down to have sex with her.
He leaned against the small bed, smoking while glancing at her.
After a while, Oliver threw a small object over, "Test it!"