Forbidden Passion
Chapter 32 The Towel

My goodness, her daughter had hit her son-in-law. Was this something a mother-in-law was meant to witness?

Theodore glared at Phoebe. If looks could kill, she would be riddled with holes right now.

She was almost scared into a stupor.

She had slapped Theodore!

"You dare to hit me?" His handsome face darkened with stormy anger. His eyes darkened with a stormy rage. He gripped Phoebe's wrists above her head, his fierce eyes looking like he wanted to tear her apart. "I'll kill you!"

Mrs. Ziegler's heart leaped with fear. She was about to rush in when she saw the furious man tear Phoebe's clothes.

Her steps halted.

Phoebe never expected Theodore to humiliate her like this, her struggle becoming frenzied, "Theodore, you jerk, let me go!"

He pinned her down with an overwhelming force, finding her defiance only irritated, as he stuffed the torn-off tie into her mouth.

Tears streamed down Phoebe's face when she caught sight of Mrs. Ziegler in the doorway. She looked at her with eyes full of desperate hope for rescue

She didn't want this!

Whether Theodore sought to disgrace her or punish her, she wanted nothing to do with him now!

She looked at her mother with pleading eyes, hoping for a word of intervention. If only her mother spoke up, Theodore, shameless as he was, wouldn't dare to overstep in front of her. Mrs. Ziegler hesitated.

Her heart ached for her daughter, but she also wished for a quick reconciliation. There was an old saying, "Married couples reconcile at the end of the day," and "she could feel the emotional distance between them growing, especially with Vanessa's return, threatening the stability of their marriage.

If Phoebe could just endure and bear a child, she could cement her place in the family.

With these thoughts, Mrs. Ziegler steeled her resolve, ignoring the painful plea in Phoebe's eyes, and tiptoed out of the room, thoughtfully closing the door behind her.

Phoebe's eyes widened as the door slowly closed, leaving not even a sliver of space. Her heart felt like it was being torn in two.

Tears streamed down her face.

In her mother's eyes, her feelings were never a priority, as long as she could provide some benefit, even if it meant turning a blind eye to Theodore's torment. Theodore got out of bed and bent down to pick up his shirt and put it on.

After his anger subsided, reason returned, and he glanced at Phoebe, motionless on the bed, a flicker of regret passing through him.

He cleared his throat, "Get dressed, I'll take you back home"

Phoebe closed her eyes, feeling a burning sensation, yet no tears would fall. Her voice was hoarse as she asked, "Why?" Theodore paused buttoning his shirt, "Why what?"

"Why do you still touch me?" Phoebe asked. "If I'm so filthy in your eyes, shouldn't you be disgusted by me?"

Theodore froze, a shade of embarrassment and faint red tinting his stern face.

"Me touching you is a blessing you should be thankful for," he said with a malicious tone and arrogant demeanor. Phoebe, consumed by rage, blacked out for a moment and threw a pillow at him.

"I don't want your so-called 'blessings'!"