Chapter 37 I Only Flirt with My Wife

Marielle Duvall's body went rigid in an instant. Memories of their intimate moments after marriage flooded her mind—three years of sweetness, of intoxicating tenderness. She had once believed this man was the one she would spend her life with, never imagining he would become her nightmare. Her fingers clenched the bedsheets as Rowan Blackwood's face drew nearer, inch by inch. Her heart nearly stopped. Just one centimeter from her cherry lips, Rowan halted. The faint down on his skin was clearly visible. Five years on, he remained as strikingly handsome as ever, while she was no longer the woman she once was. Their child lay suffering, tormented by illness. At the thought, Marielle suddenly raised her hand. *Slap!* The sharp crack echoed through the room. Rowan didn't miss the flash of hatred in her eyes—those anguished eyes pierced his chest like a blade. His cheek burned, but he didn't care. He pressed his tongue against the numb skin and murmured, "Had enough? If not, the other side