Chapter 141: Dissension

Hannah never expected Charles was trying to sow discord between her and Oscar. How malicious! Nor did Charles anticipate their marriage was a sham, a mutually beneficial arrangement devoid of love.

The next moment, Oscar strode toward Hannah, grabbed her arm, and pulled sharply. The force sent her against his chest, causing her pain. She rubbed her nose, bewildered by his anger.

Oscar huffed coldly, "Charles, focus on your reputation, not another man's wife. I heard the Sawyer Group's stock market losses are your fault. Billions of dollars vanished."

Charles retorted mockingly, attempting to deflect the accusation, "That was a mere market fluctuation, Oscar. Don't make such irresponsible remarks before investigating the matter properly."

Oscar sneered. Hannah, leaning against him, mirrored the sneer. Charles never imagined Oscar would relentlessly pursue him for years, even decades. Oscar was exceptionally capable.

"Since you're so confident," Oscar said, dismissing the argument, "forget what I said. But remember, Hannah is my wife. Stay away from her!"

Charles's face darkened. Oscar, arm around Hannah, started to leave, then paused, adding menacingly, "If you value your well-being, heed my warning."

"You think you can scare me, you rich punk?" Charles clenched his fists. Yet, Oscar's display of power was undeniably terrifying. A flicker of violence ignited in Charles's eyes. "Don't expect peace if you ruin my life!"

With Hannah in his arms, Oscar walked away, pausing outside the lobby. He pulled her into an empty corner, pinning her against the wall. "You haven't learned your lesson," he accused.

Hannah felt his raw anger. But Charles was clearly provoking us, she thought. And Oscar fell for it! So stupid!

Exasperated, she yelled, "Why are you so angry? Charles was deliberately stirring up trouble! Don't you see?"

"Do you think that's why I'm angry?" he countered.

"What other reason could there be? You're furious because he touched me?" she exploded. "Why are men so controlling and opinionated? You demand a woman you don't even love remain a virgin? Even another man's touch offends your ego? Oscar, this is a fake marriage. Even if I slept with Charles, it's none of your business…"

Oscar silenced her with a kiss. In her view, all men were the same—Charles and Oscar included. In her past life, Charles hadn't desired her, hadn't even looked at her, let alone cared about her thoughts. She'd lost all affection for him, yet he now pursued her, showing concern. But Hannah knew his actions stemmed from possessive ego, fueled by his inability to accept her attraction to another man. He craved her love, and the harder he struggled to win it back, the more desperate he became. That, she believed, was the immutable nature of men.

Oscar broke the kiss, his lip bleeding. He glared. "You only desire me if I sleep with you, right?"

"Then schedule it! Just do it!" Hannah insisted, unconcerned. Revenge was her priority; a healthy life was paramount. She'd compromise on everything else.

Oscar, consumed by rage, clenched his fist, about to strike. Hannah braced herself, eyes closed, teeth gritted. But instead of a blow, she heard a loud bang. Oscar had punched the wall. The force was immense; she winced imagining the damage.

She met his gaze, trying to remain calm. She'd done nothing wrong. Charles had forced her to the garden; she had no part in his schemes. Oscar, she knew, had noticed Charles's plan. Yet, he'd lashed out at her.

The realization hardened her resolve. He's the one causing trouble!

A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Oscar lowered his fist, releasing her. He seemed to regain control.

"Hannah, you're pushing me to the edge," he said.

You're the one losing control! Hannah thought, frowning. Before she could retort, he turned to leave, then paused, his gaze fixed ahead. He seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts.

Finally, he spoke, "I was angry because you never ask me for help."

He'd been secretly protecting her, always ready to assist, no matter the cost.

She bit her lip, her eyes reflecting a turmoil of emotions. She felt she'd committed an unforgivable act.

Oscar left. Hannah watched him go, only regaining her composure after a long while. She'd kept her distance, never crossing a line. Yet, she admitted to being afraid—afraid of love, a feeling she found insurmountable. She wouldn't allow herself to care for Oscar, or even allow herself to care.