Chapter 143

Harrison was paralyzed with terror. No one could remain calm when facing physical violence, and she was no exception.

"Get off me! Don't touch me! Ah!"

She thrashed wildly, desperate to break free. Just as Julian Ashford's grip tightened, the door burst open with a deafening crash.

Nathaniel had arrived.

He stormed in, his expression murderous. Without hesitation, he seized Julian by the collar and yanked him off Harrison, then drove his fist into the man's face with brutal force.

Julian crumpled to the floor. Nathaniel didn't stop. A second punch. A third.

Blood splattered across the carpet.

Harrison sat up, her voice trembling. "Nathaniel... Nathaniel..."

Nathaniel abandoned Julian, now barely conscious, and rushed to her side. She was shaking violently, her eyes wide with shock.

His gaze swept over her, and his stomach twisted. A vivid red handprint marred her cheek. Her skirt was hiked up, exposing pale thighs now bruised from Julian's rough grip. The sight of her—violated, terrified—sent white-hot fury coursing through him.

He'd walked in to find Julian pinning her down, her legs forced apart. The image was seared into his mind.

"Did he hurt you?" Nathaniel's voice was dangerously low.

Harrison's lips trembled. "No..."

"Are you sure?" His hands moved to her skirt, lifting it just enough to confirm. Her underwear was untouched.

Relief warred with rage. He wanted to turn back and finish what he'd started.

But Harrison's arms locked around him, her grip desperate. "Nathaniel, please. Just take me away from here. I can't stay another second."

Julian lay motionless, blood pooling beneath him. One more hit might kill him.

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, forcing himself to rein in his anger. He wrapped his coat around Harrison and lifted her into his arms, carrying her out without another glance at the wreckage behind them.

Thirty minutes later, the Rolls-Royce pulled into Rosewood Manor. Nathaniel carried Harrison straight to the master suite and lowered her gently into the marble bathtub.

Hot water cascaded over her icy skin. She was deathly pale, her body trembling until the warmth finally began to seep in.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You're wearing makeup?"

Harrison looked up. Nathaniel stood over her, his sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms and a gleaming wristwatch. His trousers were damp at the hem, but the soft golden light only accentuated his commanding presence.

His eyes burned with fury. "Lipstick, too? Really?"

Harrison's breath hitched. "I—"

Nathaniel planted his hands on his hips, his jaw clenched. "Dr. Sinclair's lecture was today. Every student attended. And you chose to dress like this?" His voice dropped to a growl. "Did you want Julian to take you?"

The accusation struck like a slap.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them. They fell silently into the water, one after another.

Nathaniel stiffened. "Harrison, don't think crying will fix this."

But the tears kept coming.