Chapter 7: Bringing a Wild Man Home
Damian threw away the scraps in his hand, turned, and gripped her chin, forcing her to look up.
His voice was cold and cruel. “Let me make myself clear, Evelyn. Who do you think you are? Victoria Hayes's genius student? Stop dreaming. That was eight years ago. Now you are just a housewife discarded by society. Without me, you are nothing.”
“Your value is in being my wife, bearing my children, and taking care of this home, not in pursuing these unrealistic fantasies.”
He moved closer, his breath hitting her face, carrying a nauseating smell of alcohol.
“Give up. Forget your designer dreams. Nobody out there will want you, nobody will respect you. Your entire life, you can only stay by my side. You should be grateful that I still want you.”
Each word was like a poisoned knife, precisely targeting her most vulnerable points.
Now, he wanted her to fully realize that without him, she was worthless.
Evelyn slowly crouched down, extending a trembling hand to pick up the fragments from the floor.
But those torn lines could never be pieced back to their original form.
All night, Evelyn maintained the posture of squatting on the floor, like a soulless puppet.
The shredded papers on the living room floor reminded her of the previous night’s humiliation and despair.
Damian had long since slammed the door and left, leaving behind utter ruins. The house was so vast that all she could hear was the hollow sound of her own heartbeat.
The next morning, the sudden ring of the doorbell jarred her awake from her numbness.
Evelyn stood up stiffly, her legs throbbing with pain from being curled up for so long.
She leaned against the wall and slowly shuffled to the door, peering through the peephole.
It was Ethan.
He held a bouquet of white Lisianthus in his arms, and in his other hand, a delicate wooden art case. His face showed unconcealed concern.
Evelyn opened the door.
“Evelyn, you look terrible,” Ethan’s voice was as gentle as a warm current. “I came by to do a follow-up exam, and incidentally, I thought you might need this.”
He handed her the flowers and the art case.
The flowers were fresh, simple, and elegant, exactly the kind she loved.
The art case opened to reveal a complete set of professional-grade drawing tools, from pencils of varying hardness to fine drawing paper, all neatly arranged.
These things had once been the most familiar objects in her life.
Evelyn’s fingertips lightly brushed the smooth edge of the wooden case. Her throat felt clogged, and she couldn't utter a single word.
“Evelyn, don't worry,” Ethan saw her fragility. “Professor Hayes has a temper, but she genuinely appreciates you. You can do this.”
Just as this trace of warmth was about to melt her icy heart, a screeching brake cut through the tranquility of the mansion.
A black Bentley roared into the courtyard with aggressive, wild arrogance.
The car door was slammed open, and Damian’s towering figure stepped out. He seemed to have returned for a forgotten file, his face still showing the fatigue and impatience of a hangover.
When he saw Ethan at the door, and the striking white flowers and the brand-new art case in Evelyn’s hands, the impatience on his face instantly morphed into sinister rage.
“What are you two doing?” Damian’s voice was squeezed out from between clenched teeth. Every step he took was imbued with thunderous momentum.
He stormed over, snatched the art case from Evelyn’s arms, and without looking, smashed it onto the ground with all his might.
“Bang!”
The delicate wooden case shattered, the brand-new pencils broke into several pieces, and the paint tubes burst open, splashing colorful paste everywhere, like a pool of spilled blood.
He grabbed the white Lisianthus, too, and violently threw them to the ground, crushing the fragile petals into the dirt with his expensive leather shoes.
“Damn it! I just warned you yesterday, and today you dare bring another man home?!”
Damian’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Ethan’s collar and violently slammed him against the wall. “You dare touch my woman? I’ll make sure you can’t survive in New York, believe me.”
Ethan grunted from the impact, but he showed no fear, only looking coldly at Damian. “Mr. Green, please show some respect. I am Evelyn’s doctor, and her friend.”
“Friend?”
Damian acted as if he had heard the best joke of the century. He tightened his grip. “Sending flowers? Sending drawing tools? Do you take me for a fool? Does a doctor need to be so solicitous of a patient? I think you’re tired of living.”
“Damian, let him go!” Evelyn’s voice was sharp and trembling.
She rushed forward, trying to pull Damian’s hand away, but he violently shoved her aside. She stumbled, hitting the nearby door frame.
Seeing that Damian was genuinely about to strike, Evelyn’s heart was seized by an invisible hand.
She couldn't involve Ethan.
“It was me!” she shouted. “I begged him to come! I asked him to buy these things for me. It has nothing to do with Ethan.”
Damian’s movement stopped.
He slowly turned his head, his bloodshot eyes locked onto Evelyn. His gaze, full of suspicion and scrutiny, scraped against her skin like knives.
“You begged him?”
He gave a cold laugh, released Ethan’s collar, and leisurely straightened his slightly crumpled cuff.
“Evelyn, you’ve grown quite bold. If you need something, you don't tell me, you don't ask the maid to buy it, you have to beg an outside man?”
His words were utterly insulting, but Evelyn could only clench her jaw and endure.
“I didn't want to bother you,” she lowered her eyes, her voice as quiet as a mosquito.
Damian stared at her for a few seconds, then glanced at the pale-faced Ethan beside them.
He seemed to temporarily accept the explanation. After all, in his mind, Evelyn was a piece of trash; she had no ability other than depending on him, let alone seducing another man.
“Get out.” Damian spat a single word at Ethan, the threat in his tone unmistakable. “Stay away from her from now on. If I ever see you near here again, I’ll chop you up and feed you to the dogs.”
Ethan gave Evelyn a deep look, his eyes filled with worry and helplessness.
He opened his mouth, but in the end, said nothing and turned to leave this suffocating place.
The front door slammed shut.
The world fell quiet again.
Damian looked down at her, as if examining a disobedient object.
“It seems the lesson I gave you yesterday wasn’t enough. You had better remember clearly: you are my wife, Damian Green’s wife, for life. Stop having inappropriate thoughts.”