Chapter 158
[ 470 words ]
Chapter 158:
Knowing she was completely unconscious, the rigid, controlled mask on Jarrod’s face shattered.
His gray eyes darkened into a pitch-black void of sick, consuming possessiveness.
“Because,” Jarrod whispered to the empty air, his lips brushing against the stray hairs near her ear, “you are the only person on this earth who looks me in the eye and makes me lose my mind.”
The moment he admitted it, his brain violently betrayed him.
An image flashed behind his eyes. Alston Petersen, the slick lawyer, smiling at Caroline in the gala’s drawing room.
Then another image slammed into his skull. A surveillance report from Bell flashing in his mind—audio from the hospital breakroom confirming the date. The movie date. The dinner invitation.
A wave of pure, acidic jealousy exploded in Jarrod’s chest. It burned his throat and made his breathing turn harsh and ragged.
R𝘦а𝗱 𝖿𝘳o𝗺 y𝘰𝗎𝘳 р𝗵oո𝖾 о𝗻 g𝘢l𝗻𝗈𝗏е𝘭𝘴.co𝗆
His large hands, holding the backs of her thighs, suddenly clamped down with brutal force. His fingers dug deeply into her soft flesh, almost bruising her.
The sudden pain pulled Caroline slightly out of her deep sleep. She let out a soft, distressed whimper and her brow furrowed.
Jarrod instantly released the pressure. He forced his hands to relax, but the violent storm in his eyes only grew darker.
He turned his head. His lips hovered a millimeter above her skin.
“Stay the hell away from that lawyer,” Jarrod warned in a lethal, vibrating whisper. “And you are not going on that pathetic date with the doctor.”
He tightened his arms around her legs, pulling her closer.
“You are my wife,” he breathed, the words sounding like a military execution order. “From your head down to your bleeding feet, every single inch of you belongs to me.”
They reached the massive glass doors of the building. The night concierge saw them and practically sprinted to pull the doors open.
Jarrod shot the man a look of pure, homicidal warning. The concierge froze in terror, clamping his mouth shut, terrified to make even a squeak of noise.
Jarrod carried the sleeping woman into the glowing, marble lobby.
The private elevator doors slid open silently. He stepped inside and hit the button for the penthouse.
The high-speed ascent caused a sudden drop in gravity. Sleeping Caroline instinctively shrank closer to him, her small hands balling into fists and gripping the fabric of his shirt collar for dear life.
Jarrod stared at their reflection in the polished metal doors. He looked at her hands clinging to him. The burning jealousy in his chest hardened into absolute, cold resolve.
Tonight was just the beginning. He was going to systematically eradicate every single man who dared to look at her.
The elevator let out a barely audible ding as it reached the top floor.
The heavy metal doors slid apart. Jarrod carried the sleeping Caroline out of the elevator and stepped into the massive, cold expanse of his penthouse.
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