Chapter 86 Elowen’s doubt

A dangerous silence fell between them.

Theron knew exactly how much those words would anger Soren. He could see it in the tightening muscles in his jaw and the fury burning in his eyes.

He enjoyed it.

For years, Soren had taken Elowen for granted. He had had seven years with her and had treated her as though she meant nothing. Now that he finally wanted her, he expected everyone else to stay away.

Why would he?

Theron had no intention of giving up. He wanted her attention, affection, and her trust. He wanted to be the man she turned to, the one she relied on. And if Soren stood in his way, Theron would make sure he regretted it.

"I am warning you again," Soren growled. "Stay away from my wife."

Theron gave him a humorless smile. "Why? You seem to have forgotten how you have treated her."

Soren’s eyes flashed. "Don’t mention that."

"Or what?" Theron didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. He didn’t even try to pry his collar off Soren’s grip. All he did was stare at him.

"Will you hit me? Will that make you feel more secure about your marriage?"

Soren scrunched up his face, his knuckles turning white around his collar.

Theron leaned closer. "Tell me something, Soren. If you really trust your wife and believe she loves you, why does the thought of her spending a little time with another man make you so agitated?"

He quirked his lips. "Because deep down, you know that she no longer loves you the way she did in the past. You are afraid she will leave you."

That was enough.

Soren raised his fist to hit him, his anger nearly overwhelming him. But he stopped. His fist trembled in the air.

He remembered how Elowen had gotten furious when she saw him hitting Theron. If he did that again, she wouldn’t forgive him. He didn’t want to lose her trust.

But he didn’t lower his fist yet. He shot him a murderous glare.

"Get this through your head," Soren said through his gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. Or you will regret the day you were born."

Just then, the door behind them began to open. Theron noticed it from the corner of his eye.

A cold, calculated thought crossed his mind.

He acted quickly. Theron seized his wrist and deliberately pulled it toward his own face, driving Soren’s knuckles into his mouth. The impact split his lower lip.

Soren, caught off guard, released his collar instantly.

Theron staggered backward and fell against the wall, one hand covering his mouth.

At that exact moment, Elowen stepped out. She hadn’t seen what had happened. All she saw was Theron leaning against the wall, with one hand over his mouth, his suit jacket crumpled slightly.

No one had to tell her what had just happened. She knew Soren beat Theron again.

"Soren?" Her eyes widened.

Soren turned to her. He felt nothing but a chill on his back.

Theron lowered his hand. He didn’t say anything. He merely looked at her, his expression revealing pain.

Elowen looked from her husband to Theron. The moment she noticed blood running from his split lip, her expression tightened. She pinned Soren with a sharp glare.

"You did that again?"

Soren’s fists trembled at his sides as he took a quick look at Theron. That bastard had done this deliberately to make him look wrong in front of her eyes.

Soren looked back at her, desperation crossing his face. "Elowen, listen to me. It’s not what you think. He..."

"Why would you do that, Soren?" Her voice was sharp with anger. "He brought me here, took care of me, and made sure I was fine. And you hit him?"

"No. I didn’t," Soren exclaimed helplessly. "He hurt himself."

"What?" Elowen’s eyes narrowed. She looked at him in disbelief. "Are you even listening to how ridiculous you sound? He hurt himself until he bled? Do you think I’ll buy that?"

"This is what exactly happened," Soren explained. "He caught my wrist and drove my fist onto himself. He did that deliberately."

Theron sneered inwardly. Soren sounded like he had completely lost his mind. No one would believe in such a bizarre concept.

"Believe me, Elowen," Soren continued, his desperation plain. "I won’t lie to you."

Elowen didn’t want to listen to him. She moved toward Theron, her face pale from embarrassment.

"Mr. Knox, are you alright?" Her chest tightened with guilt as she looked at his torn lip.

"I’m fine," Theron replied. He wiped the blood from the corner of his lip. "Don’t worry about me. Why did you come out? The doctor told you to rest. Go back inside."

Soren’s jaw flexed as he watched Theron pretending to be worried about Elowen. He wanted to smack his face. He wanted to yell at him. But in front of Elowen, he was helpless.

"How can I not worry? You are bleeding."

Soren’s expression froze. He couldn’t believe she was fussing over another man. The sight twisted painfully inside his chest.

"Elowen, don’t trust him. He is deliberately..."

"Deliberately what?" Elowen interrupted sharply, glaring back at Soren. "He was there when I needed help. He stayed here to make sure I was alright. You should thank him, Soren, not attack him."

Theron’s gaze briefly met Soren’s. There was no apology in his expression, only a quiet, almost imperceptible satisfaction.

He knew Elowen would defend him, and he succeeded in his plan.

Now, Elowen was looking at Soren with anger instead of concern.

It was a small victory, and he was going to remember it.

And Soren... He looked utterly helpless.

"Elowen, please. Let me explain," Soren pleaded.

"I don’t want to hear it," she said, dismissing him sharply.

Her words struck Soren harder than he had expected.

"Leave, Soren. I don’t want you here."

Soren gaped at her. He couldn’t even process what she had just said.

"You want me to leave?"

After hearing that she had been hospitalized, he had rushed here in a panic, terrified that something might have happened to her or the baby. His heart hadn’t stopped racing until he had seen her sitting safely in the bed.

And now, she was asking him to leave because of Theron?

"You trust him over me?" His heart ached. "He is lying. How can’t you see it?"

"I saw enough," she shot back. "He was bleeding. He was disoriented, leaning on the wall for support. And his collar was creased. Everything was a telltale sign of enduring violence. What else do you want me to see?"