Chapter 496 - 83: What Do You Expect Me To Say?

The driver's door opened, and Sean stepped out of the car. Even in the dim alley light, she could see the pure fury that rippled across his face. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes shone with hatred and violence. She shivered as he approached her, positioning his body between hers and the mysterious tall man.

"Sean," she whispered. "This gentleman saved my life." 

"From them?" he asked, looking down at the men squirming on the ground.

"Yes," she said.

He turned to look at her, slowly scanning her up and down to look for damage.

"Your neck is red," he said.

"They grabbed me by the neck," she said, trying to keep her voice calm and emotionless.

"They what?" Sean roared.

He stormed forward and kicked the brown-haired man in the stomach and then in the face. He moved on to the next man and then to the next, kicking each man with terrifying fury and strength.

"Leave them for the police, Sean," she croaked, terrified that he was going to kill them.

"I've already called the police," said the mysterious man. "They'll be here soon." He looked Sean up and down, and something seemed to change in his expression. "Actually, if you don't mind, I'll leave," he said. "I'm sure the police will want to take her report anyway." 

"Thank you," Sean said. "Please let me give you something. Anything."

"There's no need," the man said coldly.

He turned and strode down the alley, disappearing as quickly as he'd first appeared. Catherine watched him go with regret. Somehow, she couldn't shake the feeling that she hadn't thanked him properly.

"We're leaving, Catherine," Sean said. "My men can handle the police. I need to get you to the hospital." 

"It's fine," she said. "He just choked me a bit. But there's no serious damage." 

Sean's eyes blazed, "Both of you get in the car."

"That's not necessary," Sophia said awkwardly. "I'll just take a taxi."

"No," Sean said. "I don't want you to risk it. I'll take you home."

Sophia shot Catherine a questioning look, and Catherine shrugged and gestured at the back door of the Audi. Sophia climbed into the backseat, collapsing against the leather fabric.

"I'm so sorry, Catherine," she began. "I never should have run and left you. I'll never forgive myself."

"They would have hurt us both," Catherine said. "I'm glad you ran. Besides, you found Sean." 

"It's true," Sophia said.

Catherine turned to look at Sean. His face was frozen in rage, and pure, cold fury radiated off his body. She shivered and fell silent. Once Sophia was out of the car, the tension seemed to increase. She bit her tongue and sat through the long drive in silence. Finally, Sean pulled into the estate. He parked the car in front of the house and wordlessly left the car and strode into the house, leaving her alone in the dark car by herself. 

Catherine paced the long hallway, building up the courage to knock. Finally, she took a deep breath, raised her fist, and rapped on the study door. There was no answer, but she knew Sean was inside. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped into the dim room.

She expected to see him sitting behind the desk, but he wasn't there. Instead, he stood to the side of the room, staring out one of the French windows. A small lamp lit the room, but the golden glow of light didn't seem to reach him. At the far end of the room, he looked shadowy and imposing. She waited a moment, but he didn't even turn to look at her.

"Listen, Sean," she finally said. "Tonight was—"

He turned around and stared at her with a glare so piercing, she felt her throat go dry. His eyes flashed over her face and lowered to her neck. Instinctively, she raised a hand to her throat to cover the bruising. He narrowed his eyes, but his gaze remained just as fierce. Though the study was warm, she shivered. It felt like all the air had left the room.

"Why are you mad at me?" she asked.

His eyes flashed brighter, but he didn't say a word. She stared back at him, forcing herself to meet his fierce expression. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were curled into tight fists at his side. For a moment, she wondered if he'd charge across the room and grab her—he looked like a man on the edge.

"You have to know that what happened tonight was an accident," she said, feeling the anger rise in her blood. "I did everything you asked. I stayed in touch with you and set up a place to meet you. I was on my way to meet you when those thugs caught up to us. You can't possibly tell me I should have expected that." 

His jaw seemed to clench tighter, but his face was so shadowy she wondered if she imagined it. She wished he'd say something. Shouting or screaming was better than his cold silence.

"You really can't," she added. "It wasn't late at night—the shops were just starting to close, and there were still many people around. Anyway, I suspect the attack had to do with something that happened at the class party." 

He raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.

"I quarreled with some of the girls there," she admitted. "I threatened them a bit, and well, things took a turn. I told you I had a certain reputation at school, and I think the attack in the alley had everything to do with that. I think the girls knew those men and asked them to follow Sophia and me when we left."

He continued to stare at her with piercing eyes. She bit her lip and fought the urge to look away—it felt like he was staring deep into her soul, but his eyes were so cold. Her c.h.e.s.t ached, and she felt her eyes growing hot. He was so unpredictable. One day he'd cradle her against his c.h.e.s.t and treat her gently and affectionately, but then suddenly, he'd turn cold and unfeeling.

It was the sudden lack of warmth that terrified her most. When she first met him, she'd thought he was a cold, unfeeling machine. She'd been surprised by his small moments of tenderness, by how soft his smile could be. She searched his face, but all traces of that other man had disappeared. She half wondered if he'd even existed. How could such a cold man ever truly be tender?

"Why don't you say something?" she asked him.

"What do you expect me to say?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Nothing, I guess," she finally said. "I'm sorry if I acted impulsively tonight, but I refuse to take responsibility for the actions of others. Now, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed."