My Ex-Husband Begged Me to Take Him Back - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Unexpected intrusion

“What? Are you outside my house?” Ava asked with a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Or else? Why would I ask you to open the door?” he replied flatly, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for him.

“But what are you doing here at this hour?” she asked, her confusion deepening.

“What do you think? Now, don’t test my patience. I’m already tired and sleepy. Open the door.”

Ava’s jaw dropped, words eluding her momentarily. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘What’s wrong with this man?’ her mind screamed.

Didn’t he despise her? Hadn’t he made it abundantly clear that he held nothing but contempt for her because of her father?

When she recalled his cruelty in her past life, her mouth turned bitter with annoyance and sense of injustice. In her past life, Dylan had been heartless, never sparing her an ounce of kindness. His indifference, his coldness—it had all wounded her deeply.

“I am not opening the door. You should rest at your place. Go away.” She sulked.

“Ava!” His voice boomed through the phone, making her flinch. She could practically feel his teeth grinding in frustration. “Don’t make me angry. If you don’t open the door right now, I won’t let you or your father sleep tonight.”

Ava’s blood boiled at his audacity. ‘He is insane! How dare he threaten me like that?’ Her grip tightened on the phone. For a moment, she thought she would end the call and ignore him altogether. But she also knew ignoring him would only escalate his anger. She wouldn’t want to disturb her father in his sleep.

“Are you going to open the door or not?” Dylan growled impatiently. “Fine. Since you’re so stubborn, don’t blame me for what I’ll do next.”

“Wait!” she exclaimed. “I’m opening the door.” Ending the call in a hurry, she threw the phone aside, rushing to the entrance.

With a huff, she clenched her jaw, her pulse thrumming in her ears. “This man…,” she muttered under her breath. Her expression was stormy as she yanked the door open. “Dylan, you’re being completely—uh!”

Before she could even finish her sentence, Dylan surged forward, pushing her roughly inside. She stumbled back, barely catching herself before feeling the cold press of the wall behind her. He was on her in an instant, his body pressing hers firmly against the wall.

She gasped, startled by his aggressive move, but before she could react, his lips slammed onto hers in a brutal, unforgiving kiss.

“Mmm…” Ava’s muffled protests were swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, her hands pushing futilely against his chest. But the harder she resisted, the fiercer his kiss became.

Ava’s mind went blank, her knees weakening at his ferocity. His grip on her wrists was unyielding, tight enough to make her wince, and the roughness of his kiss left her lips tingling with a sharp, stinging pain. When her strength started to give up, he pulled back, dropping his head on her shoulder, his breath heavy.

“I am tired, Ava,” he whispered. “Can you stop fighting with me?” His grip on her softened, though he didn’t let go completely.

The vulnerability in his voice stunned her. This wasn’t the cold, calculating Dylan she was used to, the man driven by hatred and revenge.

Ava froze. It was the first time she noticed him in a vulnerable state. Was he really sick?

Justin’s earlier remarks flashed through her mind, and a tiny flicker of sympathy stirred within her. But just as quickly as it came, she smothered it.

The bitter memories resurfaced—the betrayals, the hurt—and most painfully, his affair with Gianna. It all came rushing back, fortifying the walls she had carefully built to protect herself from further getting hurt.

“Since you don’t want a fight, get out right now,” she fretted.

Ava pushed against his chest, but Dylan didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her body, holding her firmly against him.

“I haven’t slept for days,” he mumbled hoarsely. “Let me sleep with you.”

Ava let out a harsh, bitter laugh, resentment etched into her expression. “Dylan, open your eyes and look at me,” she spat. “I’m Ava—the woman you hate most. The one you’ve never cared about. Are you confusing me with your mistress, Gianna?”

“Shh!” he pressed his finger to her lips, his eyes barely open. “Don’t talk. Just take me to the bedroom.”

He looked utterly spent, as if sleep was the only thing he could cling to in that moment. But he was scared to sleep alone, fearing the nightmares would haunt him again. For some reason, he believed Ava’s presence might help him sleep peacefully with no horror of the nightmares.

However, Ava wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. The sympathy she had felt earlier had long since dissipated, replaced by cold anger. She shoved him hard, and Dylan stumbled backward, landing clumsily on the sofa.

Dylan’s eyes widened in sudden shock. He gawked at her in disbelief.

“Sleep here,” she hissed. “And don’t think for a second that I’ll let you into my bedroom.” She stormed into her room, fuming in anger.

Just as Ava was about to slam the door shut, Dylan’s large hand shot out, blocking it with a forceful grip.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, scowling at him.

Without a word, he pushed the door open with a stormy intensity, stepping in with a commanding presence that made her heart race. His dark expression filled her with a sense of foreboding.

Ava instinctively stepped back, her legs bumping against the edge of the bed, sending her tumbling onto the mattress. Dylan closed the distance between them, jumping onto the bed and pinning her beneath him.

“Why would I sleep in the hall?” he grumbled, his voice low and dangerous. “As your husband, I have every right to sleep with you.”

With a swift motion, he shrugged off his suit jacket, and Ava’s heart lurched into her stomach as she watched him unbutton his shirt.

“Dylan!” She panicked.

He smirked, leaning down to plant soft kisses along her neck, sending waves of confusion and fear coursing through her. Ava pressed her hands against his chest, pushing with all her might, but he easily restrained her, pinning her wrists above her head, trapping her under him in a helpless state.

“Dylan, no…please don’t do this,” she pleaded, her voice cracking.

Dylan paused and then collapsed beside her, but his arm remained firmly wrapped around her. “Then sleep and let me sleep.”

Ava lay rigid in Dylan’s embrace, her heart beating in her ear. Every muscle in her body was tense, ready to spring into action if he made a wrong move. But he was still, his breathing steadying. It was as if he had fallen asleep.

Ava shifted her gaze, trying to catch a glimpse of his face without alerting him. Minutes felt like hours as she lay there, her body coiled tight with apprehension.

Finally, she sensed that he had truly fallen asleep, his grip loosening just enough for her to make a move. Taking a deep breath, she began to carefully wriggle her way out from under his arm, hoping to escape unnoticed.

But just as she thought she was free, his hold tightened abruptly, yanking her back against his chest. “Don’t move,” he growled. “Or else, I’ll punish you so hard that you will be limp and sore for the rest of the night.”