CHAPTER 86: CHAPTER 86: TO AVOID REGRET

Jenson Forrest carried Zinnia Lawrence into the elevator as it began to ascend.

Zinnia panicked. The man’s shoulder was cold and hard against her, making her dizzy and nauseous.

She kicked and struggled. "Jenson Forrest, put me down! Believe it or not, I’ll throw up all over you again!"

The man’s voice was dark. "Go ahead and try."

His entire aura was frigid, his muscles so tense that Zinnia could clearly feel his suppressed rage and volatility.

Zinnia gritted her teeth, staring down at the man’s rear. She remembered how many times he had spanked her, and he had just done it again in public. A fresh wave of new and old grievances surged through her.

She slapped Jenson Forrest’s butt twice. SMACK! SMACK!

To her surprise, it felt quite good. So bouncy.

Has Jenson’s butt always been this perky?

Unable to resist, Zinnia slapped it hard one more time.

The next second, the world spun again as the man gripped her by the waist and set her down.

Zinnia’s legs gave way, and before she could steady herself, his hard body pressed forward, pinning her into a corner of the elevator.

"Zinnia! Where did you just hit me?!" His handsome face was ashen, his eyes churning with suppressed violence.

Zinnia felt a pang of guilt, but she lifted her chin and retorted defiantly, "You wouldn’t put me down! You’ve spanked me several times, so what’s wrong with me slapping you twice?"

Jenson raised a hand to grip her chin, his lips curling into a sneer. "Spanking is a sexual invitation, Zinnia. Is this how you act when you want a divorce?"

Zinnia froze, her face flushing bright red. She stammered frantically, "That’s not it! How is that a sexual invitation? You’re the one who—mmph!"

He spanked her all the time, starting when she was just fifteen. How come when he did it, it was him disciplining his little sister, but when she did it, it was a sexual invitation? What a double standard!

However, before she could finish her protest, Jenson crushed his lips against hers, fiercely silencing her.

He had been drinking tonight. The scent of whiskey, though not overwhelming, spread from his mouth to every corner of hers as he deepened the kiss. His kiss was fervent and his breath was searing. His damp bangs brushed against her nose, creating a surprising, ticklish sensation.

Zinnia snapped back to her senses. Unable to push him away, she prepared to bite him.

"Mmph!"

But before she could, he bit her first—not too hard, but not too gently either.

A sharp pain bloomed on the tip of her tongue, and her vision blurred with tears.

She felt wronged and resentful. In the small, silent elevator, the only sounds were his kisses, which seemed deafeningly loud. Zinnia’s neck flushed red with shame. She was mortified but couldn’t break free, and as her eyelashes trembled, a tear rolled down her cheek.

Sensing it, Jenson finally released her. He stepped back slightly, gazing down disdainfully at the pitiful, crying girl before him.

"What are you crying about? You’re the one who was so full of bravado tonight, not me."

But Zinnia didn’t feel triumphant at all, only utterly suffocated. Hearing his words, she choked back a sob.

"Let go of me. In the hospital room, you clearly said you would let me go. You said we’re getting a divorce, and we’d be strangers if we met again. You can’t treat me like this."

Jenson’s thin lips twisted into another mocking smile. "And I said not to appear in front of me again! And what did you do, hmm? You constantly provoke me, even give me sexual suggestions, and now you’re playing hard to get?"

Zinnia’s expression turned to one of panic as she shook her head.

"I didn’t! Did I want to show up in front of you? It was Crystal Sutton who wouldn’t leave me alone! I came to settle the score with her, I had no idea you’d be here. And I wasn’t giving you sexual suggestions, don’t misunderstand! My hand just slipped, okay? I apologize!"

"Apologizing?" he sneered. "Then show some sincerity. You provoked me, and now you want to back out? Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?"

Jenson lifted a hand, loosened his tie, undid two buttons on his shirt, and tugged at the open collar. His exposed neck and collarbone were tinged with a faint flush—whether from alcohol or desire. His Adam’s apple bobbed, creating a surprisingly alluring sight.

But such allure could no longer stir Zinnia’s heart. Her face was as cold as ice.

"Jenson Forrest, if you’re in heat, go find your little sweetheart! She just took a beating. Now is the perfect time for you to go comfort her!"

She tried to push him away.

She was really getting the hang of this.

A chill crept into Jenson’s heart, but the heat and restlessness in his body showed no signs of dissipating. His wet hair gave his handsome face an edge of danger and deviance he didn’t usually possess.

"Right now, I’m only interested in you. The night is long. Let’s take our time, so neither of us has any regrets after the divorce."

Zinnia was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe such words were coming from the abstinent and aloof Jenson Forrest.

Who would have regrets? And who wants to have breakup sex with him!

Just as she was on the verge of a breakdown, the elevator stopped with a DING.

Zinnia braced herself, gripping the elevator handrail for dear life in a last-ditch effort to resist.

Jenson shot her a disdainful glance before bending down and scooping her into his arms.

Zinnia clung to the handrail, refusing to let go, but the man simply strode forward.

How could her strength possibly compare to his?

She was forcibly carried out of the elevator.

Thankfully, a man was walking toward them.

Zinnia immediately screamed at him for help. "Help! Help me, I’m being kidnapped!"

The man hesitated for a moment before approaching them. "Sir, this lady doesn’t seem very willing to go with you."

Jenson’s face was cold and grim. "Can’t you see my wife has had too much to drink?"

Zinnia’s face flushed, but not from alcohol. It was purely from Jenson’s bullying in the elevator.

She shook her head frantically. "No! He’s lying! I’m not his wife, please, help me call someone, or call the police..."

Seeing her genuine desperation, the man bravely stepped in front of Jenson, even though he looked like someone not to be trifled with.

Jenson scoffed and set Zinnia down.

The moment her feet touched the ground, Zinnia tried to bolt, but Jenson gripped the nape of her neck, trapping her in his embrace. She was like a chick caught in an eagle’s talons, unable to escape no matter how much she struggled.

Jenson took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and shoved it in the man’s face.

"Take a good look."

The man stared at the wedding photo on the screen for a moment, then glanced at Zinnia’s anxious, helpless face. "So drunk you don’t even recognize your own husband?" he said with displeasure. "Girls these days, honestly..."

He shook his head and, before leaving, said sympathetically to Jenson, "Buddy, you’ve really got to discipline her."

Jenson’s lips curled. "Thanks for the reminder. I was just about to."

Zinnia was speechless.

Powerless to resist, she was dragged forward by Jenson.

"What did you show him?" she asked indignantly.

She couldn’t understand it. Given their superficial marriage and bygone sibling relationship, how could Jenson possibly have a photo of them together on his phone?

Jenson scoffed. "The certificate that proves we’re legal, of course."

What certificate?

In her panic, Zinnia’s mind was a muddle. Before she could figure it out, she was half-carried, half-dragged into the presidential suite at the end of the hall.

The door slammed shut, forcing her to retreat step by step.

Jenson pulled off his tie, tossed it to the ground, and shrugged off his suit jacket. His shirt had been splashed with water and rumpled during their struggle in the elevator, and the fabric over his chest was now wrinkled. He glanced down at it, a frown of disgust on his face.

He unbuckled his belt, pulled his shirt from his trousers, and tore it open with a few sharp tugs.

His solid, flexing pecs and taut abs were suddenly on full display. The smooth lines of his muscles flowed downward, the V-lines of his hips dipping teasingly below his waistband as he advanced on her.

Zinnia’s breath hitched. Forced back into the sofa area, the backs of her knees hit the edge of the couch, and her legs gave out, sending her tumbling backward onto the cushions.