Chapter 36 Grandma's Support
Sloane's POV
I looked at the possessiveness churning in his eyes and felt nothing but irony.
"Jared, we're getting divorced," I said breathlessly, my voice a bit unsteady from that kiss, but my tone crystal clear. "Where I go has nothing to do with you."
Those words seemed to hit a nerve. The tenderness in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by raging fury.
He suddenly lowered his head—not to kiss me, but to bite down hard on my lip.
I gasped in pain as the taste of blood quickly spread through my mouth.
"We're still kissing, Sloane." He released me, pressing his forehead against mine, those dark eyes burning with a crazy fire. Each word seemed squeezed through gritted teeth. "I'm telling you, I won't divorce you. Never."
His obsession and unreasonableness completely killed my desire to communicate.
"You're such a jerk!" I snapped without thinking.
"Oh yeah?" He curved his lips in a smile that was both wicked and dangerous. "Then let me show you what a real jerk looks like."
With that, he sealed my lips again. This kiss was even more intense, more wild than before, as if he wanted to devour me whole and merge me into his very bones.
He held me tight, leaving me unable to move, forced to endure his storm-like assault.
"Sloane?"
Just then, a gentle yet slightly urgent voice called out nearby.
It was David, looking for me.
Jared and I both froze.
I instinctively pushed Jared away and turned to look.
David stood just a few steps away.
The worry and anxiety on his face froze instantly when he saw our disheveled clothes and swollen lips.
He turned and left quickly, almost like he was fleeing.
I watched his hasty retreat, feeling something I couldn't quite name.
But Jared had the look of a man who'd just gotten exactly what he wanted. He watched David walk away with a satisfied expression, then turned back to me and pulled me close again.
He lowered his head, planting a kiss filled with possessiveness near my ear, and said in a commanding tone, word by word. "Stay away from him from now on."
I couldn't be bothered to respond.
Dinner was in the group home's simple cafeteria.
Director Aria had added a few extra dishes, and the kids surrounded us, creating an atmosphere that felt almost surreal in its warmth.
Jared sat right next to me, showing unprecedented patience as he faced Director Aria's detailed questioning.
From our "meeting and falling in love" to our married life, he answered everything smoothly, without missing a beat.
The sweet details he made up made me squirm in my seat, but Director Aria and the kids believed every word, looking at me with eyes full of blessing.
I kept my head down, silently sipping my soup, pretending I heard nothing.
Just then, under the table, a foot in expensive leather shoes hooked around my ankle, the toe suggestively brushing against my calf.
My whole body stiffened, heat rushing to my face.
I whipped my head around, glaring at the man beside me who was answering questions with a straight face.
Sensing my gaze, he turned his head slightly, a hint of triumph in his dark eyes, while still saying gently to Director Aria, "I was the one who pursued Sloane. She's slow to warm up—I had to work really hard."
Furious, I gritted my teeth and, taking advantage of the tablecloth's cover, stomped down hard on his wandering foot.
His expression froze for a moment and he let out a muffled grunt, but quickly recovered. That foot hooked around mine even tighter, with an undeniable force.
I couldn't break free and could only let him dominate me so forcefully, my face burning like it might bleed.
That meal was torture—I could barely swallow anything.
After dinner, Director Aria took my hand and warmly invited us to stay. "The attic room is still kept for you two. Don't leave tonight—it's been so long since you've been back."
I was about to make an excuse when Jared's phone on the table rang.
It was the butler from the old mansion.
Jared answered, and the gentle smile on his face vanished instantly, his brow furrowing tightly. "What is it?"
Whatever was said on the other end made his expression darker and darker. "We'll be right back."
He hung up.
"Grandma's sick." He met my questioning gaze, his voice low. "The butler says she suddenly got angry and won't eat."
Hearing that Grandma was sick, my heart tightened. I couldn't care about being mad at him anymore and immediately stood up. "Then let's go back quickly."
He nodded, and we said goodbye to Director Aria together.
The car sped along, and by the time we reached the Montclair mansion, it was completely dark.
The main house was brightly lit, but the atmosphere was oppressive.
As soon as we entered, we saw Keira sitting by Grandma's bed holding a bowl, coaxing her in a soft voice. "Grandma, please just eat a little. I made this myself—it's your favorite chicken broth."
Grandma was propped up against the headboard, looking haggard. She didn't even glance at Keira, just coldly turned her head away.
"Take it away. I don't want to see your fake face."
Keira's eyes immediately reddened, biting her lip pitifully. "Grandma, tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it..."
Before she could finish, Grandma suddenly waved her hand and knocked the bowl right out of Keira's hands.
With a sharp crash, scalding chicken soup and porcelain shards scattered across the floor.
Keira cried out, her hand instantly turning bright red from the burn.
"I told you to get lost! Can't you understand plain English?!" Grandma's voice was hoarse from weakness but still full of vigor.
"Grandma!" I rushed over and took her hand worriedly.
Seeing me, the ice-cold rejection on Grandma's face melted instantly. She gripped my hand back, her cloudy eyes full of affection and joy. "My Sloane's back. Let Grandma have a good look at you."
Her gaze fell on my right hand in its cast, and her expression immediately darkened. "What happened to your hand? Who did this?"
Before I could answer, Keira spoke up first. She held up her own scalded hand, looking at Jared with teary eyes, her voice choked as if she'd suffered a terrible injustice. "Grandma, don't blame Sloane. Even though my hand and shoulder were injured in the shooting too, I don't believe Sloane did it. She definitely didn't mean to..."
Every word was throwing dirt on me, implying the shooting was all my doing.
After hearing this, Grandma suddenly let out a cold laugh. Those eyes that had seen it all were like ice-cold knives, piercing straight at Keira. "I'm not senile yet. You think anyone can't see through your cheap tricks? If you didn't stage this whole thing yourself to get sympathy, who did?"