Chapter 13 Another man

• Gazing up, she met Joaquin's gaze and queried, "Why have you returned?"
• "Did you not ask me to return?" Joaquin's once-dark eyes now glinted with a slight crimson hue. He had been in an influential position for a long time and exuded an innate authoritative presence. Shoving the door open forcefully, he strode into the house. "What did you mean by the message you sent me last night?"
• Zayla was momentarily caught off guard, then found herself chuckling softly. It appeared that Joaquin had rushed back, yearning to get a divorce. Despite his insulting assertions the previous night that he had no intention of returning, the mere mention of divorce had spurred him into immediate action. How impatient he seemed.
• Joaquin's brow wrinkled at her cryptic laughter, his eyes scrutinizing the room. Upon noticing a pair of men's shoes at the door, a flicker of hostility flashed in his gaze. Already in a sour mood, Joaquin felt the familiar urge to lash out. Known for his volatile temper, once provoked, he rarely held back.
• Seizing Zayla's wrist, his eyes darted from the shoes to her face adorned with makeup. The sneer playing at the corners of her lips seemed to grow colder. "Why this sudden desire for a divorce? Have you already found someone else? What's wrong? Am I no longer sufficient for you?"
• Zayla's heart constricted, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Joaquin, what nonsense are you spouting?"
• "Let me guess, you asked me to return tomorrow because you had a date with another man today, didn't you?" Joaquin's words came out like a venomous accusation as he forcefully pulled Zayla into the living room, his grip on her wrist tight enough to crush her bones. He flung her onto the sofa, his weight bearing down on her, his hand tightening around her throat.
• "I don't..." Zayla's protest was cut short, her confusion mounting as she met Joaquin's unsettling gaze. Her limbs stiffened, her chest constricted, gasping for air with her mouth open.
• Joaquin harbored an intense aversion to betrayal above all else. Even if Zayla wasn't the object of his affection, he had possessed her. Even if he discarded her, she remained his property. No one else could touch her. The mere thought of Zayla entertaining another man in the house ignited a blazing fury within him, a desire to snuff out her life then and there.
• Zayla's neck throbbed, her chest tightened, and her fingertips trembled. Instinct compelled her to reach for Joaquin's wrist in a futile attempt to break free, but his grip remained unyielding. Darkness threatened to fill her vision. When she thought she was on the brink of suffocation, she heard Mr. Innes rushing to intervene, his hand restraining Joaquin's shoulder urgently.
• "Mr. Latham, what are you doing?" Mr. Innes's voice cut through the tense atmosphere.
• Joaquin turned his gaze towards the newcomer. "Are you the man Zayla has been hiding away?" he demanded, his accusatory tone tinged with suspicion.
• Mr. Innes swiftly realized Joaquin had misunderstood and hastened to clarify, "I'm not. Please don't jump to conclusions. I'm here today solely to draft the divorce agreement between you and Ms. Steele." Concerned that Joaquin might not believe him, he promptly presented his business card as proof of his identity.
• Joaquin's grip loosened, allowing Zayla to gasp for breath, her body curling up on the sofa, trembling with the aftermath of the ordeal.
• As Joaquin released his hold over Zayla, Mr. Innes breathed a sigh of relief. Summoning his courage, he suggested, "Mr. Latham, why don't you discuss the property division with Ms. Steele first?"
• At the mention of the word "divorce," Joaquin's demeanor turned cold once more. This sudden surge of inexplicable emotion was puzzling, leaving him grappling with his inner turmoil.
• Under Joaquin's malicious gaze, Mr. Innes felt a shiver run down his spine, uncertain whether to stay or leave. He stood frozen in place, avoiding eye contact. It wasn't until Joaquin uttered dismissively, "Get lost," that Mr. Innes promptly departed without retrieving his laptop from the living room.
• Zayla's body was weaker than before, the red handprints on her slender neck serving as a painful reminder of Joaquin's aggression. It took some time for her breathing to return to normal, and she gradually became aware of her own frailty. Joaquin had put his hands around her neck and threatened her before. Although difficult to bear, it was nothing as debilitating as this.
• "Joaquin, were you trying to kill me just now?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear and disbelief.