Chapter 67 Live with Me
Quinley tried to speak, but Zachary only deepened the kiss. He dominated her completely, prying her lips apart and sweeping through like a hurricane.
The crisp scent of tobacco filled her mouth as familiar memories awakened in her mind. She resisted, fought back, but gradually lost strength.
Her mouth said no, her words were heartless, but only her body was honest.
His kiss seemed to possess some kind of magic—lips and tongues entwined until she lost all control. He knew the secrets of her body intimately. When his burning hands touched her slender waist, the volcano inside her was ready to erupt.
Zachary held her tight and kissed her deeply, as if he wanted to meld her into his body before she dissolved into water.
"Wait for me. I'll give you an explanation."
Through her hazy consciousness, Zachary's burning voice penetrated her ears. She suddenly came to her senses and bit down on his lip.
Zachary winced in pain. Quinley seized the opportunity to shove him away, her eyes wild, her breathing ragged.
"Mr. Jennings, please conduct yourself appropriately."
Quinley steadied herself as the flush gradually faded from her pink cheeks.
Zachary wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes darkening further. He pulled a key from his pocket and held it out to Quinley.
"Move to Maple Estate. Live with me."
Maple Estate was Zachary's private residence. He had strong boundaries and disliked outsiders visiting his home—including Quinley.
In her memory, she'd only spent one night at Maple Estate, and that was when she'd first become his secretary. Zachary had gotten drunk, and Quinley had driven him home. He'd vomited everywhere while Martha rushed to clean up, and Quinley had helped him to his bedroom.
Their bodies had brushed against each other, igniting something between them. Using his drunken state as an excuse, Zachary had kissed her, and Quinley, wanting to complete Sylvia's mission, had willingly climbed into his bed.
From that point on, she'd become not just his secretary but his bed partner. Yet he'd never brought Quinley back to Maple Estate for the night again.
Quinley stared at the key, momentarily dazed. Once upon a time, she'd fantasized about moving into that grand house someday. But that was before, when they'd still been intimate every day.
Now, there was no going back.
Quinley didn't take the key, coldness rising in her clear eyes.
"Mr. Jennings, are you planning to keep me as a caged bird?"
She laughed coldly, shrugging as she put even more distance between them.
"Sorry, but I'm not interested. I already have a boyfriend, so please don't flatter yourself. I don't want your fiancée to get the wrong idea, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't interfere with my relationship."
Her words were harsh and unforgiving, leaving Zachary no room to maneuver. Anger spread through his dark eyes like storm clouds.
"I'll handle the situation with Alicia properly. You won't be wronged. Move in with me and keep your distance from David."
Zachary made his promise while issuing his demand.
Quinley looked at him as if she'd heard the most ridiculous joke. David's confession had gotten to him, hadn't it? Now he was desperate to find a cage to lock her in.
Whether she was willing didn't matter—what mattered was that she could still belong to him.
So to Zachary, was she a person with feelings and dignity, or simply an object he could possess whenever he wanted?
"Mr. Jennings, you're dreaming!"
Quinley said nothing more. She turned and quickly disappeared into the night.
Under the streetlight, Zachary stood with his hands at his sides, his eyes like a dark curtain following Quinley's retreating figure.
The next morning, Quinley bought breakfast and took it to Dennis. David was there too, holding his phone and playing games with Dennis. The two men shouted and cheered as they played.
Dennis's mood had improved considerably—there was a smile on his face and light in his eyes.
"Quinny, you're here!" David immediately set down his phone and greeted her with a beaming smile.
"Denny, time for breakfast." Quinley handed him the wontons she'd bought, but Dennis didn't take them. He was absorbed in his game world.
"Already ate."
Only then did Quinley notice several breakfast items on Dennis's bedside table.
"Quinny, I bought this sandwich especially for you. Try it." Like a magician, David produced an elegantly packaged meal box.
He was clearly trying to win her favor, and while Quinley understood his intentions, she didn't want to encourage them.
"I already ate."
She picked up Dennis's dirty clothes and headed to the laundry room with a basin, but David followed with his sandwich.
There were other people in the laundry room, and they recognized David immediately when he appeared.
"Dr. Brown, good morning!"
David ignored them, opening the meal box and bringing the sandwich to Quinley's lips.
"Be good, open up!"
Quinley was mortified and quickly turned her head away.
"I'm really not hungry. You eat it."
She refused, but David persisted.
"Be obedient. It tastes best when it's hot, and I crossed half the city just to buy this for you."
David moved closer again.
"Dr. Brown, you're so good to your girlfriend!"
In front of patients, he was serious and unsmiling—a skilled angel in white. But with Quinley, he was a roguish, persistent devil.
"Miss, you should treasure him. Dr. Brown is a rare good man!"
The bystanders sang his praises, making David even more pleased with himself.
Quinley was thoroughly embarrassed. She picked up her basin to leave, but David blocked her path.
"Of course I have to spoil my girlfriend rotten."
"David!" Quinley lowered her voice, calling him by name directly.
She hated David's showiness and even more his pushiness.
"Let me tell you a secret—my nickname is Davie. From now on, when we're alone together, you can call me that."
His lips curved in a devil-may-care smile, as if he was deliberately antagonizing Quinley.
People gradually left the laundry room, and Quinley decided to be completely honest with David.
"Dr. Brown, I think I need to make something clear. I only see you as an ordinary friend. Please don't misunderstand. You're a good person, but I don't have feelings for you. I hope you won't waste any more time on me."
Her rejection was completely direct.
After hearing this, David's smile only deepened. Like a shameless rogue, he took another step toward Quinley. With nowhere to retreat, her back hit the wall.
"But I like wasting time on you. What should I do about that?"
Quinley didn't know what to do, but someone else did.
The moment David finished speaking, Zachary's fist slammed hard into the back of his head.
The laundry room was cramped, and David hit the ground unexpectedly. The sandwich scattered across the floor.
"You go out first."
Zachary pulled Quinley over and pushed her out of the laundry room. His face was dark as he slowly loosened his tie, then rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms.
David took the hit and lay on the wet floor for a while before struggling to get up. He spat on the ground, clenched his fists, and swung at Zachary.
"Zachary, you're fucking dead!"