No Second Baby No You Only Divorce (Scarlett and Vincent) novel Chapter 816

The bedroom was shrouded in dim shadow, Vincent's features swallowed by the low light, his expression impossible to make out, yet Scarlett could easily tell he was in a foul mood.

He hadn't drunk himself blind, but he'd definitely had more than a few whiskeys.

There was no way a fully sober man would sneak into her place like this, yet someone completely wasted couldn't have navigated his way here either.

Seated on the edge of her bed, Scarlett fixed a wary stare on him, unable to guess what he'd come intending to do.

Vincent stayed rooted where he stood and spoke in a sharp, commanding tone. "Come over here."

Scarlett glared back, full of caution. "What exactly do you want?"

"I just need to hold you," Vincent replied without delay.

Irritation flared in Scarlett instantly. "Vincent, have you lost your mind?"

His eyes were deep and unfathomable, leaving her entirely unable to read his thoughts.

"Yep, I've gone crazy," Vincent admitted flatly. "You're all I think about every single day. I don't want to marry Sabrina anymore, do you get it? I've changed my mind about that wedding."

Scarlett froze on the spot, staring at him in total bafflement, swamped with confusion.

Once she snapped out of her daze, she wasted no time ordering him out. "Get out right now. You're not welcome here, and breaking into private property is against the law."

Barely after her words left her mouth, Vincent strode forward until he stood beside the bed, his head blocking nearly all the faint lamplight and casting her in thick darkness.

Scarlett's pulse spiked with fear, staring at his shadowed form. She tried pushing herself off the mattress, but Vincent caught her by the waist in one swift motion and pressed her back against the bed.

Before Scarlett could let out a scream, his large palm clamped firmly over her mouth.

He leaned close to her ear and murmured, voice low and coaxing, "Let's not get divorced, okay?"

Scarlett fought hard, but with her mouth covered, she couldn't make a sound.

Vincent's lips moved from her ear down to her neck, kissing her.

Scarlett struggled with everything she had, but with her injured leg, she couldn't shove him off.

Just then, another figure dropped silently through the open bedroom window—it was Damian.

She feared Vincent would end up seriously hurt, landing Damian in serious trouble afterward.

Acting on instinct, she raised her voice to stop the fight. "Damian, stop it!"

Her shout cut through his blind fury, and the bloodshot haze in his eyes slowly faded back to clarity.

He blinked slowly after a beat.

Terrified he would keep beating Vincent, Scarlett swung her injured surgical leg over the bed and limped across the floor to stand behind him, speaking softly. "Damian, don't hit him anymore. If you keep going, he'll end up—"

Her sentence trailed off unfinished when Damian whipped his head around. Glistening tears pooled in his bloodshot eyes, and he let out a bitter, hollow laugh as he fired back, "You're rushing to defend him because you still haven't gotten over him, haven't you?"

Scarlett looked utterly confused and shook her head firmly. "That's not true at all."

Damian tore his gaze away and wiped the fresh blood coating his knuckles all over Vincent's dress shirt.

Vincent lay motionless on the floor, blood matting his hair against his skin, eyes squeezed shut; no one could tell if he'd blacked out from the beating or passed out drunk, his chest rising and falling in steady, even breaths.

Once his hands were clean of blood, Damian pushed himself to his feet and walked slowly toward Scarlett.