?Chapter 253:


    A sharp intensity shed across Chris’ face, his eyes gleaming with a perilous spark. “Do you understand what you’re doing at this moment?”


    Maia leaned back, her hand wandering over his chest, her delicate fingers warm, causing Chris’ muscles to tighten reflexively.


    Her voice, soft and beseeching, barely whispered, “Chris, please…”


    Chris was taken aback.


    His self-control, which he had always been confident in, crumbled entirely then.


    Overwhelmed by passion, he pressed his lips fiercely against hers, a demanding kiss that stole her breath away and overwhelmed her senses.


    As the atmosphere thickened with tension, the piercing sound of the doorbell echoed unexpectedly.


    Maxwell was at the front door, clutching the urgently needed medication. He kept ringing the bell, puzzled by the silence inside.


    Earlier, Chris had called him in a panic to bring the remedy without dy. Now, standing at the door, Maxwell wondered what had dyed their response.


    Maxwell persisted with the doorbell, and finally, after his one hundred and twenty-seventh press, the door swung open.


    Chris appeared in the doorway, his shirt cor askew, his attire rumpled, his face shadowed like an impending storm.


    Catching sight of Chris’ disarray, Maxwell immediately grasped the situation, awkwardly holding up the bag containing the remedy with a sheepish grin. “Got the remedy, Chris. Shall I throw it away, and you… go on?”


    Chris snatched the remedy, his features set in a frosty mien. “This isn’t your concern. Leave.”


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    With that, he sharply closed the door.


    Maxwell stood dumbfounded on the doorstep. He had worked so hard to get the remedy for Chris’ wife, and this was how Chris repaid him?


    Clutching the remedy, Chris felt a surge of unease.


    Thankfully, Maxwell’s timely arrival brought back some much-needed perspective.


    Under the influence of the drug, Maia could recognize who he was, but her actions and thoughts were beyond her control.


    With a deep breath, Chris returned to the room, ced a reassuring arm around Maia’s fevered shoulders as she continued her yful taunts. Struggling to master his desires, he took a ss of water from the bedside table and gently helped her take the remedy.


    Gradually, Maia’s cheeks lost their feverish glow; her body rxed, her breathing evened out, and she soon drifted into a peaceful sleep against Chris.


    Chris gentlyid her back on the bed and carefully tucked her in. His long, well-defined fingers swept a stray lock of hair from her forehead while a bitter smile yed on his lips.


    His voice, soft and soothing, broke the silence. “Have a good rest. When you wake up, everything will be alright. I’ll be here, waiting for the day you choose to embrace me willingly.”


    The following morning, Maia awoke with a pounding headache.


    She winced, her head heavy, and her body overwhelmed by weakness.


    As she massaged her temples, fragmented memories of the previous night began to surface — Vince had taken her into a secluded room, seemingly with ill intentions. But what followed was a blur.


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