Chapter 1567: Chapter 1567: Didn’t Serve You Well?
Joan Harry shuddered slightly. She didn’t know what Jesse Rowan meant by those words.
Jesse Rowan stared at her, his head aching intensely.
Before his eyes, fragments of broken memories began to surface once again—painful, icy, and piercing to his very core.
Those shards, like needles, slowly stabbed into his heart.
And then, his heart seemed to ignite all at once.
His icy hand was still inside her clothes when he suddenly lowered his head, crushing his lips against her bruised and purple ones.
His movements were violent, showing almost no restraint.
He pried her lips apart, seizing control of her breath.
At this moment, Joan Harry still showed no expression. Her senses had all but faded, leaving her with only one tangible feeling: pain.
Pain in her shoulders, pain in her jaw, and pain... in her heart.
Jesse Rowan kissed her mercilessly, applying all his strength.
The fragmented memories continued pounding at his mind, making it impossible for him to breathe.
This place wasn’t particularly private; the occasional sound of approaching footsteps could still be heard.
Joan Harry didn’t want her last shred of dignity to be utterly destroyed. She bit down on Jesse Rowan’s lip. "Not here..."
Her voice was very low, tinged with both pleading and sorrow.
But Jesse Rowan heard her.
Like a devil, the man didn’t say anything further. Instead, he scooped her up and headed for the hotel suite.
Along the way, Joan Harry buried her head in her disheveled scarf, tears soaking through her clothing.
She had come to learn one undeniable truth: when you had neither wealth nor power, you were nothing but insignificant, like an ant to be trampled.
She could never escape the grasp of Jesse Rowan.
Though the Rowan Family in Landon wasn’t quite as prominent as the Cheney Family, they were in no way inferior to the Harry Family.
And now, the Harry Family could only scrape by on the mercy of others, barely hanging on.
And as for her, she was merely the ant crushed beneath the collapse of the great tower, her dignity and tears rendered completely useless.
"Joan Harry, the expression you’re wearing right now really offends me. Is it that you’re unwilling to tolerate my presence, or do you think I haven’t properly satisfied you in bed?" Jesse Rowan glanced at the woman in his arms with a dark expression. "If it’s the latter, I’ll make sure you understand later what it truly means to lose yourself in ecstasy."
Jesse Rowan’s tone was razor-sharp, his demeanor exceptionally caustic.
However, Joan Harry no longer had any reaction.
She didn’t know if there would be worse moments yet to come, but she knew that this moment, right now, was already unbearable.
So unbearable, she began to think that death might be a kind of relief.
When they reached the suite, Jesse Rowan kicked the door open and threw Joan Harry onto the bed.
His body still carried the coldness of the outside, utterly devoid of warmth.
Joan Harry’s head hit the mattress hard—it hurt, but she remained silent, merely watching him in quiet detachment.
Jesse Rowan shrugged off his jacket and rummaged through the hotel drawer. Pulling out a bottle of pills, he crushed one between his fingers and forced it into her mouth.
Joan Harry frantically shook her head and struggled. "I don’t want it."
But in the end, she was no match for Jesse Rowan.
The pill had no flavor, yet it stuck in her throat, bringing immense discomfort.
"Cough, cough." She tried to spit it out. "What... What is this?"
She knew that in their circle of decadent socialites, many dabbled secretly in illegal substances.
Her eyes widened in terror.
This... this thing...
"Something to make you feel good." Jesse Rowan’s lips curled into a smirk as he leaned over her, tearing her clothing apart like a trapped beast.
Joan Harry’s eyes filled with fear and panic.
Soon, the effects of the drug began to kick in. Heat engulfed her body.
She realized then—it was an aphrodisiac.
Her consciousness began to blur, leaving her defenseless under Jesse Rowan’s control, her eyes glazed with a faint sheen of tears.
She wanted to cry, but the tears refused to come.
The crystal chandelier on the ceiling refracted its dazzling brilliance, spinning and intoxicating.