His voice held a restrained emotion that Lizetta couldn’t quite grasp, nor did she want to, but slowly she
calmed down.
“Easy now, let’s talk.”
Seeing her regain herposure, Remington let out a sigh of rellef and leaned down to kiss Lizetta’s
forehead.
But as his lips touched her, she stiffened uncontrobly. A shadow passed over Remington’s eyes, the
neon lights from outside slicing his stern profile into intermittently dark and light segments, casting an
eerie glow.
Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g
Lizetta felt a shiver in her heart and finally spoke up, “Alright, go ahead. I’m listening!
Her face was still full of resistance, a look of having toply rather than wanting to, making
Remington feel utterly powerless.
He swallowed hard, his patience reaching its limit as he grabbed Lizetta’s chin with a frosty tone, full of
anger, “Before that, shouldn’t you exin to me what you meant by saying the child isn’t mine, huh?”
Lizetta’s cold gaze suddenly zed with anger at his usatory tone, “What’s there to exin?”
Her defiant words were suddenly silenced by his kiss.
Lizetta was held tight, her lips forcibly parted in his usual dominating and irresistible manner.
Remington felt her slipping away from him more and more. He wanted her to trust and rely on him like
before, but his efforts seemed to always backfire.
He desperately wanted to prove something with this intimacy, but the deeper he kissed, the more he
realized theck of response from the woman in his arms.
She didn’t struggle, nor did she respond, like a doll without a shell at his mercy.
Anger surged within Remington, his hand moving through her hair, his thumb caressing the sensitive
areal behind her ear. His other hand lifted the hem of her shirt, reaching in from behind.
Lizetta didn’t even realize how well he knew her body, sumbing to his subtle and persistent
seduction, finally showing some response.
It wasn’t until his hand slid from her side waist to her lower abdomen, ovepping with her hand that
was covering her stomach, caressing the baby, that she couldn’t control her tears anymore, whimpering
softly.
Remington then pulled away from her lips, gently rubbing her nose, saying, “Take back your spiteful
words!” He knew she was acting out of spite without really doubting her, yet he still forced her to retract
her words.
Lizetta, feeling both angry and wronged, bit her lip, refusing to speak. His hand threatened to wander
again, and Lizetta finally cried out in protest, “I didn’t say anything wrong. Joy has nothing to do with
you: she’s mine alone!”
Remington’s dark expression finally cleared, his palm resting lightly on Lizetta’s stomach, mocking
gently, “So you mean to say, how did you conceive on your own? Yours, huh? Impressive, a virgin
birth?”
Lizetta bit her lip, turning her head away, her voice cold, “The amniotic fluid was drawn; just go do a
DNA
test if you’re so inclined. Whose do you want to test? Hogan’s?”
Before she could finish, Remington abruptly grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him again.
Lizetta couldn’t make a sound, as he stared down at her, “Always pushing my buttons; don’t provoke
me on purpose!”
Lizetta’s eyes reddened, making her pale face appear even more delicate.
A pang of pain crossed Remington’s heart; he released her, saying in a deep voice, “I never doubted
you. The drawn amniotic fluid is gone; no one will do a paternity test, nor a match test.”
Lizetta looked at him, stunned. She was surprised; today’s events had hurt her more mentally than
physically.
Having a paternity test was an insult to her. A match test would make her feel like Joy was just a
commodity; she felt she had wronged Joy, bringing her into the world in such a demeaning way.
But Remington said the amniotic fluid was gone. Lizetta felt somewhat touched andforted, her rigid
body gradually rxing.
Remington breathed a sigh of relief, gently smoothing her slightly disheveled hair.