Noticing that Lily had fallen asleep and didn't respond, the sharp sting in John's chest eased a little. But the coldness on his face didn't melt—it only hardened. His voice was flat, but it cut like glass. "Lily is my girlfriend. Stay away from her." He glared at Simon, the warning in his tone deadly. "If you touch her again, we're done." Before Simon could react, John scooped Lily into his arms and started walking away. "John!" Simon snapped out of it and caught up to him in a few long strides. "Lizzy doesn't have much time left. She loves you more than anything—and you're still tangled up with Lily. Do you even know how much that hurts her? Be there for her, John. Be there for her before it's too late. She's a good woman. If she dies full of regret, you'll regret it too." At Elsa's name, John's steps faltered.For a heartbeat, his expression softened. He didn't want Elsa to carry regrets. But he wasn't leaving Lily. A cold smirk curved his mouth. "So I should dump Lily so you can swoop in? Keep dreaming." His voice dropped, hard and low. "Stop looking at my girlfriend, Simon. I won't warn you again." "I…" Simon was taken aback, but he swallowed the words. Four years ago, John had been crippled in a car accident. The cold-blooded Jones family had cast him aside. But John had come back, stronger than before, reclaiming everything he had lost—wealth, status, power. Simon wasn't afraid of John. The Bale family was just as powerful as the Jones family. But there was something else. He hated Lily. Hated her with a fire that never seemed to die. So when John accused him of coveting her? That was absurd. That was the only reason Simon hadn't snapped back at him right away. By the time he recovered from the anger clouding his mind, John was already holding Lily in his arms, striding toward the car with her limp form pressed against his chest.Watching John's car speed away from the villa, Simon felt a strange, uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He told himself it was just for Elsa—because of Lizzy. He was hurt on her behalf. But deep down, he knew the truth. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her again. If Lily even dared to steal Elsa's man again—or make her cry—Simon swore he'd make her pay for it. ... Back at their marital home, John gently placed Lily on their old bed, feeling the weight of everything that had happened tonight. Lily was still unconscious, caught in a haze of exhaustion and fever. As he leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, he felt a strange pang of relief. For a moment, everything felt normal again. But then, as the shadows from the night crept in, Lily mumbled, barely audible, "Simon… you—" John's heart lurched. He knew what she'd been through tonight—he'd heard the whole, ugly story. But hearing her murmur Simon's name in her sleep? That was enough to send his jealousy into a frenzied spiral. "Lily!" His voice cut through the air like ice, cold and filled with an edge of rage.Her eyes flew open, wide with shock, as she met his bloodshot, furious gaze. She blinked, disoriented, still recovering from the drugs. But John wasn't in the mood for any of that. "You moved to a hotel, started this whole breakup mess just to be with Simon, didn't you? You're my girlfriend. I'm never breaking up with you. Not in this life, not ever!" His words were suffused with a strange, possessive heat. Before she could even process what he said, he leaned down and crushed his lips to hers, a kiss that was as much demand as it was passion. "John, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Lily finally managed to push out, trying to break free from the kiss. Only then did it hit her—this wasn't Simon. It was John, her so-called boyfriend. This was her old room, the place where things had once felt right—before everything had gone wrong. Her body was still weak, drained from everything that had happened, but she used what little strength she had left to try and push him away. But her resistance only fueled the fire of his jealousy. John wasn't about to let her go so easily. He grabbed the back of her head, forcing their lips together once more. This time, the kiss deepened, almost desperate—possessive. "Let go! We broke up! Don't touch me—mmph!" Lily's words were muffled as John continued to kiss her, his hold tightening. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as frustration and helplessness bubbled up inside her. She raised her hand, her only hope to push him away—to slap some sense into him. But as soon as her hand moved, he was there, pinning both her wrists above her head with brutal efficiency. His kiss grew fiercer, more unyielding, as if he were a man starved, driven by a need that had no room for anything but her. "John, get off me! Mmph—!" Lily's voice was drowned out by his. And then, she felt his other hand start to move, trailing over her body, sending icy waves of fear through her. Her heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. She twisted in his hold, trying to escape, but her movement only made it worse. Her body, already weakened, seemed to betray her with every turn. "Don't ever talk about breaking up again," he muttered darkly, his hand sliding down to her waist, then inching toward the hem of her sleepdress.He was going to take her. Completely. "And don't even think about Simon. Lily, you're mine. In this life, in the next—in every life, you'll never belong to anyone else but me." "Get off! Don't touch me!" Her voice, strained and hoarse, was a whisper of the person she used to be.