Chapter 87

Quintessa knew she was about as significant as an ant in Tyrone’s presence, and her defiance was nothing more than a bluff.

But even in her bluff, she wouldn't make things easy for him.

Why should she let him trample all over her?

With a vicious rip, the skirt she wore was torn in two.

Tyrone looked at her with icy detachment, “Oops, my bad, Slip of the hand.”

Now, clad only in her underwear, Quintessa lay on the bed, as vulnerable as a lamb awaiting slaughter.

Quintessa’s face was stony. “No worries, Mr. York. You can afford it. Just pay me back for the skirt. And don't think about weaseling out of replacing my blouse.”

Tyrone ignored her; instead he was admiring what lay before him. He had to admit that Quintessa had a stunning figure — not a pound more, not an ounce less, curves in all the right places.

Come to think of it, Tyrone had only been intimate with Quintessa once, three years ago.

Reflecting on that night, he reveled in the memory of pure bliss.

Yet, this woman, the only thing worth admiring about her was her body.

Tyrone's hand glided over Quintessa's exposed stomach. “So, you want to be my stepmom, huh? Clever plan. But I'm afraid you won't be having any little brothers for me.”

Because his old man’s “seed’ was no good anymore.

Quintessa frowned, and stared at him with a frosty gaze.

Tyrone's smile was edged with mockery. “You can try to play stepmom, but if you want a son, you'd have to “borrow’ from me.”

In an instan Quintessa understood. Tyrone's father was likely sterile or had a vasectomy. No wonder he wasn't as outraged as she expected.

Quintessa’s eyes were icy. “What do you really want? Came here to throw your weight around just because I hooked up with Jerome? What right do you have to interfere with my life? What are we to each other? At best, I'm just a woman you've spent a night with. No, to put it correctly, you're just a man I've spent a night with. I've had plenty of men. If they all acted like you, I'd be driven mad by now.”

Nearly naked and in a humiliating pose, Quintessa glared at Tyrone, yet her dignity was unmarred. Tyrone chuckled

- a truly handsome sight, yet to Quintessa, that smile sent chills down her spine.

He lay down beside her, “What I've touched must remain mine, even if I don't want it. Years ago, I had a cat for just a week before it ran away. I spent a lot of effort and money to get it back. Guess where it is now?”

Quintessa stayed silent as Tyrone continued, “The day I brought it back, I gave it one last meal. Now, there's a peach tree in my backyard that blossoms exceptionally well every spring.”

A shiver ran through Quintessa. This man was mad.

In Tyrone's world, there was one rule: what he once occupied was left a mark of him and would stay his forever; whether he wanted it anymore, no one else could touch it.

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Chapter 87

He was so possessive, domineering, and insanely territorial.

Quintessa regretted underestimating Tyrone. She had no idea just how messed up he was.

She wanted nothing more than to escape this one-on-one with Tyrone. Why did she let Manny leave early? Who knew what this lunatic would do next?

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