After Marrying His Mistress, He Said He Still Loved Me

Chapter 2

"A bastard child—his very existence is a mistake. I will personally end this mistake."

After saying this, she covered her face and walked forward, but as soon as she took the first step, she fell to the ground.

Noah hurriedly stepped forward, but Freya pushed him away with one hand.

Tears covered her face as she sobbed, "This must be heaven punishing me for being a mistress. Mr. Morrow, I was wrong. Please, spare me!"

Full of sympathy, Noah pulled her into his arms, gently wiping away her tears. "The one who should be punished isn't you."

He raised his hand and signaled to the bodyguards, pointing at one of them and speaking in a calm tone.

"You, hold her down."

I hurriedly asked, "What are you going to do?"

Noah's eyes turned cold as he looked at me with a mocking smile.

"Zoey, acting on impulse comes with a price. Only once you've been through it will you understand how much pain Freya is in right now."

He pointed at another bodyguard. "You. Slap her 100 times, until she can't show her face in public anymore."

The bodyguard hesitated, glancing at Noah, then at me.

Noah furrowed his brows, his voice laced with command and pressure.

"Did I hire you for you to forget who your master is?"

The bodyguard slowly stepped forward, and finally, he held me down.

Before I could even react, a slap landed on my face.

The bodyguard paused for a moment, looking at Noah's still indifferent face, then proceeded to deliver a second and third slap...

My tears kept falling, yet my face felt like it couldn't feel the pain.

I numbly lifted my head and saw Noah gently blowing on Freya's injured ankle.

Freya smugly looked at me, silently counting "90, 91, 92..." with her lips as the bodyguard continued.

When the count reached 99, she spoke in a soft, delicate voice.

"Mr. Morrow, how about we stop? Zoey's face is already swollen like a pig's head; she probably can't even get into the award ceremony."

Noah gestured for the bodyguard to stop, then affectionately brushed Freya's nose with his finger. "You're just too kind. Zoey, you should learn from Freya's generosity. You're 30 years old, and you still don't know how to be sensible like a young girl."

I ignored him, taking out my phone to call the organizing committee and ask for leave. But Noah snatched it away and immediately turned it off.

He leaned in close to me and whispered in a voice only we could hear.

"I told you before, this is all just for show. There's no need to involve your father. Listen, don't make trouble. After we finish the divorce procedures, I'll give your phone back to you."

I was almost forced into Noah's car.

I begged him to give me my phone so I could make a call.

"If I don't ask for leave, the organizing committee will think I don't respect them. I won't be able to participate in the award selection again."

He knew that this award was my mother's last wish, and it was the honor I had worked for eight years to achieve.

Noah looked at my reddened eyes, his expression cold, with no warmth at all.

"In your heart, is an award more important than the life of my child? Zoey, how did you become so vain?"

I stared at him blankly, forcing a bitter smile.

"Fine, I'll give up this award."

No one saw that in my tightly clenched fist, my nails had already pierced my palm.

He wanted to use everything he now had to repay me for the award I had lost.

After the divorce registration, Noah seemed to be in a good mood.