Chapter 73 Chapter 73. Captive Under Zephyr’s Roof
Zephyr pulled her into his arms and pressed a light kiss to her back. "It’s good that you’re not blind. After all, your eyes are very beautiful."
This wasn’t the first time Zephyr had praised her eyes. Back when they were both still single, it was precisely these compliments that had made Zoria lose herself, cherishing every small word of praise from him as if it were a treasure.
"When are you going to let me go?" Zoria asked.
"After you get pregnant," Zephyr said casually, as if joking, but Zoria knew he meant every word.
Zoria’s gaze turned icy, the corner of her lips lifting into a mocking smile. "Then maybe all you’ll get is a miscarriage report."
She deliberately used sharp words to provoke him. As expected, her sentence instantly ignited his anger. Zephyr turned and pinned Zoria beneath him, the fury in his chest transforming into a fierce, twisted desire.
……
It hurt too much…
Zoria’s ears rang, her mind felt like it had turned to mush. She tilted her head, clenched her teeth around the pillow, her bloodshot eyes fixed on Zephyr as he relentlessly tormented her body.
Suddenly, darkness fell before her eyes. Zephyr covered them with his hand and leaned close to her ear, his low voice breathing out hot air. "Zoria, don’t look at me with that expression. It only makes me want to destroy you even more."
The next day, Zoria woke up. She was alone in the bed. She tried to move, but her entire body ached as if she had been run over by a car, the pain so sharp it drew a hiss from her lips.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Zoria lay there and looked over.
"Since you’re awake, drink this," Zephyr said as he walked in carrying a bowl of medicine, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
The thick, bitter smell of herbs spread through the room. Zoria glanced at the bowl in his hands. The dark brown liquid made her feel nauseous.
"This is a herbal medicine to nourish the uterus."
Zoria clenched her teeth and said nothing, refusing to open her mouth. Zephyr set the bowl down on the bedside table.
"Do you want to drink it yourself, or should I feed you?" His patience was limited. Zephyr pulled Zoria upright, gripping her chin and forcing her mouth open.
Zoria struggled, tearing at the wounds on her body. She cried out once before being forced to open her mouth. Zephyr scooped up a spoonful of the medicine and poured it straight into her mouth.
He had never taken care of anyone before and didn’t know to blow on the medicine to cool it. The heat made Zoria cry out in pain. She struggled violently, but in Zephyr’s eyes, it only looked like resistance. He lifted the bowl directly and poured the entire thing into her mouth.
The bitter, sour taste spread through her mouth, her tongue going numb from the burn. Her throat, already injured, was now in even worse condition.
After finishing his cigarette, Zephyr set the bowl down and turned his head—only to see that Zoria’s lips were swollen.
Zoria had always been frail, her skin thin and delicate. Even the slightest scrape would leave a mark. One look at her red, swollen lips was enough to tell she had been burned.
“You burned your mouth?” Zephyr frowned, lifting Zoria’s face and forcing her chin up to check her tongue. “Open your mouth. Let me see.”
Zoria felt as if her jaw was about to be crushed. Forced to open her mouth, she let Zephyr peer inside as he examined her carefully.
Sure enough, several small blisters had formed, and the tip of her tongue was an angry red.
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier? If your face had gotten burned, wouldn’t you have turned into a little toad?” Zephyr said, his brows drawn tight.
With that, he called for his private doctor. Zoria’s body had always been weak, plagued by minor illnesses, so Zephyr had simply arranged for Dr. Luke to live permanently at the villa.
Dr. Luke was used to scenes like this. After confirming that Zoria had been burned, he prescribed medication to reduce inflammation.
Zoria coughed softly. The taste of blood filled her mouth. Her body trembled, her face drained of color, and a few drops of blood slipped down her chin.
Noticing this, Zephyr asked anxiously, “Why is she bleeding?”
After examining Zoria’s throat, Dr. Luke explained that the burn had caused minor damage to her vocal cords and that with slow, careful recovery, she would be fine.
Only then did Zephyr understand—it wasn’t that Zoria refused to speak. She simply couldn’t.
He pulled her into his arms and gently patted her head. “I’ll be more careful from now on. And you—stop provoking me.”
Zoria drifted back into sleep, dazed and unfocused. Her spirit was clearly depleted, her whole body devoid of vitality. Dr. Luke saw it immediately. Zephyr did not.
Once outside the bedroom, Dr. Luke hesitated for a long moment before finally speaking. “Mr. Hawthorne, if Ms. Zoria continues like this, her mental state will collapse sooner or later.”
Zephyr didn’t take it seriously. “She’s always been like that.”
Dr. Luke sighed. “Mr. Hawthorne, Ms. Zoria has no will to live. I’m afraid she won’t be able to hold on…”
“You’re saying she’ll die?” Zephyr frowned as he looked at the doctor, who nodded.
“She won’t die,” Zephyr said coldly. “Once she has a baby, once she has something to cling to, she’ll keep living.”
That was exactly why he had always wanted Zoria to get pregnant.
Just then, his phone rang. Zephyr glanced at the screen—it was a call from Hawthorne Villa.
Those from the villa rarely called him. If someone did, it was almost always because something had happened to Faye. As expected, the moment he answered, he learned that Faye was ill. Zephyr told Dr. Luke took good care of Zoria, then grabbed his car keys and left.