The General's Wife Wants to Leave-Chapter 210: Boundaries of mere infatuation

Her heart beat so fast, causing her chest to heave up and down heavily. Her breath quickened with every single pressure that the large palm applied to that part of her body. Until the pressure felt more vivid for her to perceive, which caused her breath to be caught in her throat.

Opening her eyes, she met a pair of captivating eyes but found no soul in there. They were emotionless and cold, not like how she witnessed when he stared at the woman that he was now looking for. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

It was then Clara was awakened from her beautiful dream to face what seemed to be the cruel reality, recalling the truth of what Joanna told her—that there was no place for other ladies to be the wives of the man who was now strangling her neck.

"You have talked a lot," Canilla muttered, lowering the tone of his voice as he icily gazed at the reddened, moist eyes that did not captivate him even for the slightest. "Now tell me where my wife is, or you won’t be able to voice about what I am doing to you to your beloved friends. Isn’t gossiping a fun thing to do?" Canillas smirked, mocking the so-called most beautiful lady who behaved the undoubtedly ugliest in his eyes.

But the shameless lady before him chose to be stubbornly silent despite her eyes that got moistened more—the same stubborn action she took to still dream to be his wife despite all he advised her in their previous unwanted meeting. Instead, she kept it as a grudge, bringing up the tittle tattle about him and his wife. Yet she still shamelessly approached him and uttered a lie about Joanna, thinking that he would succumb to her beauty, making her his wife in the end.

No words were uttered by her to tell him where Joanna had gone, as if challenging him, testing his patience, and provoking him, as she thought that by doing such annoying conduct would make her attractive in his eyes.

Nonetheless, he would not take any care of such shameless conduct if she did not have any idea where his wife was. But since she knew, he would not let go of her easily.

In such a vast castle, with the night deepened, along with his instinct that told him about the harm that might have approached Joanna, he had no other choice but to make a short cut to protect the one whom he had regarded as part of his life.

"As you see now, I am indeed a rude person," Canillas continued to speak. His voice was low and deep, sounding intimidating and cold. "To add more, I am cruel. Very cruel." He emphasized. "So you better stay away from me. Don’t waste your precious time dreaming about becoming my wife. Because my wife is Joanna de Lara. Not you or other women. Remember that. Don’t let me repeat this ever again."

Leaning closer as if to emphasize that he did not play with his words and wanted her to hear what he was saying clearly, Canillas lowered his voice to say, "And my beautiful wife will never say the rubbish that you just said to me." A devilish grin graced Canillas’ lips, as if telling the lady, whose wet, quivering eyes were now filled with fear, that he was indeed a cruel and dangerous man. "So be nice when I am still giving you a chance. Where is my wife?" asked Canillas in a commanding tone, leaning back away with his cold, serious demeanor.

"I-I don’t know." A hoarse, shaky voice escaped Clara’s trembling lips, but she did not drift her reddened eyes away from Canillas’, as if refusing to yield, despite the fear that clearly emanated from her. As a result, more pressure was applied to her neck.

Before she opened her mouth to talk all the rubbish to him, Canillas thought that she had not encountered Joanna. Hence, he did not have any need to ask from the lady that he thought to be deaf.

But now he knew that she had encountered and talked with Joanna in this very room. Otherwise, she would not have told him all the things that were in the opposite of what might have been brought up by Joanna in the conversation with her, as he could guess to which direction their conversation had sailed.

Aside from that all, he believed that Joanna would never say that to her.

Knowing Joanna’s personality as well, he was sure that she would not go anywhere but return to where her father had been waiting for her when she finished doing what she needed to do in the powder room. Thus, this lady should have known where Joanna had gone.

"Tell me," Canillas demanded in a serene yet cold voice. His visage was void of emotion, but his cold eyes exhibited the eyes of predators, who were ready to eliminate their prey.

Sensing that the parted lips that gasped for air were about to say something, Canillas loosened his grip on her neck. "S-She left with a man." It was the answer he heard that was spoken in a hoarse voice.

"I-It is up to you if you don’t trust me," Clara spoke more when the pressure on her neck was reapplied.

Receiving the direction where Joanna headed without asking for anything else that would delay his time to find her as the urgency peaked following his instinct that seemed to be right, Canillas said while tightening his grip on Clara’s neck, "If you told me a lie, I will find you to make sure you regret it." With that having been said with clenched teeth, Canillas pulled his hand away from Clara’s neck, not wasting any more seconds to stride away towards Joanna’s whereabouts.

Flopping down on the cold floor, Clara coughed and took a quick breath, filling all her hollow heart with air while holding her neck, where red marks were printed with her trembling hand.

Her cheeks were drenched with tears as she sobbed, washing away the powders that painted her cheeks beautifully. And the powders seemed to be washed along with all the hope that she had not let die even after he married another lady.

But should she let that hope perish? Her blurry view was nailed at the open doorway where the cruel man had gone through.

Should she let the passion and desire for that cruel man, which surpassed all boundaries of mere infatuation, which she had claimed to be love, leave no remnant in her heart?

Should she give up because she was not Joanna de Lara? Clara clenched her hands into fists, ignoring the pain when her fingers pierced her palms.