Chapter 6 Rage
An entire day had passed since Ivy left the hospital. She had immediately caught a flight home, not wanting to stay there a second longer. When the police reported her attack to her boss, she had expected consequences, but instead, someone else was assigned to handle the project.
She should have felt relieved, but she wasn’t.
Tired and frustrated, she couldn’t focus on work at all. Some unknown irritation gnawed at her, making her restless. And so, after office hours, instead of going home, she found herself at a bar.
She downed drink after drink, continuously ordering margaritas, vodka, anything that could numb her thoughts. But no matter how much she drank, her mind kept circling back—to Christian’s bloodied face, his unconscious eyes, and Sawyer’s words.
No matter how much she wanted to erase him from her life, the universe kept dragging him back in.
She picked up her sixth shot of vodka, preparing to drink it when a man slid into the seat next to her. He had a drink in hand, his clothes casual, a flirtatious smirk tugging at his lips.
Ivy ignored him, leaning her head back and pushing her hair away from her face. She was too drunk to care about whatever nonsense he was saying.
But the man was persistent.
Taking another sip of his drink, he smirked before setting it down. Then, without warning, he leaned in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, his face inching closer, his intentions clear.
In a split second, a strong hand grabbed him by the collar from behind and yanked him back with a vicious force. The man was thrown onto the ground with a hard thud.
“What the fuck—” he started, but before he could finish, a solid kick landed in his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Christian stood before him, expression dark, his eyes burning with fury.
The bartender, recognizing Christian immediately, gave a silent signal to the security guards. Within seconds, they dragged the man away, ensuring he wouldn’t return.
Christian then turned back to Ivy. A bandage on his forehead.
She was just reaching for another shot of vodka when he snatched the glass out of her hand and slammed it down on the counter.
Gripping her face roughly, he pulled her forward, his voice a dangerous growl.
Then, in an instant, his hand was on her face, gripping her jaw, forcing her to look at him. His breath was hot against her skin as he growled, “Ivy Watson! If you need a fucking man, am I not good enough to satisfy you?”
Ivy frowned, jerking her face out of his grasp. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she murmured, her voice sluggish with alcohol. She stood up, attempting to walk away.
But Christian grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Her body collided against his, his arm locking tightly around her waist. His piercing gaze bore into hers, his jaw clenched with barely restrained anger.
Then, without warning, he bent down and swept her into his arms.
"Let go of me!" she snapped, drunkenly pushing at his chest.
He didn’t.
Furious, he strode out of the bar. He took her straight to his car, securing her inside before roughly driving home. His anger burned through every vein in his body, his grip on the wheel tight.
When they reached his house, he carried her inside and dropped her onto the couch.
Before she could catch her breath, he was on her—one knee pressing into the couch beside her hip, his hand gripping the back of the couch, the other cradling her face with a rough tenderness.
And then, like a man consumed, he crashed his lips against hers.
The kiss was raw and demanding, his mouth moving over hers with bruising intensity. His tongue pushed past her lips, tasting her deeply, sucking on her tongue with a possessive hunger that left her gasping. His body trembled against hers, vibrating with a storm of anger and desire. She clawed at his shoulders, desperate for air, but he didn’t pull back until she was breathless, her lips swollen and wet.
His mouth trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, his tongue following to soothe the bite. He traced fiery, wet kisses along the curve of her throat and down to her collarbone, his tongue tracing hot paths as he licked and kissed every inch of her exposed flesh.
She was wearing an off-shoulder mini dress that covered her from her bosom to her thighs, leaving the rest of her body bare to his touch. His mouth explored her skin—biting, kissing, licking—leaving behind red marks as if branding her as his. His hands were just as demanding, gripping her waist, pulling her closer, as if he wanted to fuse her into him.
But the thought of another man’s hands on her, another man daring to touch her, made his jealousy burn through him like wildfire. The rage inside him was uncontrollable. The image of that bastard trying to kiss her played in his mind, fueling his every move.
Ivy’s hands wedged between them, pressing against his chest. With a rough push, she shoved him away. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she stumbled off the couch, her face red with anger.
“I told you—I will not love you!” she cried, her voice shaking with fury. The haze of alcohol was wearing off, clearing just enough for her emotions to rise to the surface. “I will never, ever love you, Christian Evans!”
Christian reached for her again, his hands grabbing her face, holding it between his palms as he leaned down, forcing her to meet his dark, stormy eyes.
“I don’t fucking care. I’ll love you for the both of us, and you’ll love me back—whenever that happens.” His grip tightened. “You will marry only me in this life. You will carry my children. And, Ivy,” his voice darkened, filled with a dangerous edge, “there is no way in hell I’m letting you near another fucking man. So get that idea out of your head.”
Ivy’s rage flared. Every word out of his mouth infuriated her more. Her blood boiled.
"Fine," she hissed. "This is what you want, right?"
She reached for the zipper of her dress, her fingers yanking it down with reckless force. “You want my body. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” The dress slid down her body, pooling at her feet. She stood before him in nothing but her underwear. “Take it. Get it over with. Satisfy your thoughts, your desires, whatever it is you want—and then be done with it!”
Her hands reached behind her, fingers grasping the clasp of her bra, but before she could unhook it, Christian moved.
Christian stormed toward her, grabbing her wrist in an iron grip.
His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek, but his gaze was dark, feral. “If you dare take it off,” his voice was a low growl, “I will take you to my bed.” His breath was heavy, his body rigid with restraint. “I’m not that fucking strong. But it won’t be for just one night. It will be for a lifetime.”
Ivy’s patience snapped.
With a swift motion, she pushed him off roughly, and her palm connected with his face in a sharp slap. A stinging sound echoed through the room.
Her chest rose and fell with labored breaths, tears brimming in her eyes from frustration.
Christian slowly turned his face back to her, the imprint of her palm burning on his cheek.
His gaze locked onto hers, but the dizziness from the alcohol, the overwhelming anger, and everything in between finally took its toll. Her body swayed, her vision blurred, and before she could stop herself, she felt her legs giving out. Darkness swallowed her as she fainted.
Christian's heart clenched in panic.
"Ivy? Ivy!"
He rushed forward, catching her before she could hit the ground. “Ivy?” He pulled her into his lap, panic gripping him as he gently patted her cheek. “Wake up. Come on, open your eyes.”
She didn’t respond.
With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a candy and quickly unwrapping it. He slipped it in her mouth, urging her to take it. A few agonizing moments passed before she finally stirred. Her lashes fluttered, the darkness in her gaze began to fade as she slowly regained consciousness.
Relief flooded through him, but he didn’t let go. Grabbing his phone, he quickly dialed a number.
"Hey man, can you bring medicine for low blood pressure to my house right now? Thanks."
He hung up just as fast, his eyes never leaving her face. His hands cradled her cheeks, his fingers brushing against her skin as he searched for any sign of discomfort.
She blinked at him, then weakly pushed his hands away, slipping out of his lap.
Christian let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, relief washing over him. His heart, which had been hammering in his chest, finally started to calm. He ran a hand through his hair before standing up. He gulped hard, his jaw tightening, and then, without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket. His fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, slipping it off.
Grabbing her hand, he gently pulled her closer, then slid her arms into the sleeves of his shirt, one by one. He buttoned it up patiently, leaving only the top button undone. Once she was covered, he lightly pressed her shoulders, guiding her back onto the couch.
"You haven’t eaten dinner, have you?" he asked, his voice carrying a slight tremor that disappeared as quickly as it came. "Sit down. I’ll make something for you."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode across the hall, now shirtless, and stepped into the kitchen to prepare her a meal.
Not long after, Sawyer entered the house in a rush, his footsteps echoing through the hall. He glanced around, his gaze landing on Ivy sitting on the couch, wrapped in Christian’s oversized shirt, her dress crumpled on the floor. His brows furrowed before he turned toward the kitchen, heading straight for Christian.
Christian gave him a nod in greeting. “Thanks,” he muttered as Sawyer placed the medicine on the counter.
Sawyer glanced back at Ivy before turning to Christian, lowering his voice. “Man, what the fuck is going on?” He leaned in, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You didn’t… do anything bad to her, did you?”
Christian shot him an annoyed glare, dismissing his suspicion without a word.
He leaned against the counter, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “She was drinking at a bar,” he finally admitted, “and I saw another man getting close to her.” His jaw clenched. “I got jealous.”
He took a deep, frustrated breath and straightened, his palms pressing flat against the countertop. His gaze flicked toward Ivy before turning back to Sawyer.
“Go,” he muttered, nodding toward Ivy. “Talk to her. Calm her down.”
Sawyer stiffened. A look of horror crossed his face. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What if she slaps me too?”
Christian frowned. “She’s a good girl. She doesn’t get angry unless I do something bad. Stop ruining her reputation.”
Sawyer gritted his teeth. "Jesus fucking Christ." Shaking his head, he muttered, "I get it. You’re blind to everything she does wrong. But, brother, don’t force me into this. I am not built to talk to women. She’s probably still pissed at you.”
"That’s exactly why I want you to talk to her," Christian said calmly. "So she won’t still be furious when I bring her food. I don’t want her eating while she’s angry. It’s bad for her health."
Sawyer stared at him blankly.
Christian exhaled. "I’ll give you that land for your next concert for the Linalena Band. It’s on me."
That caught Sawyer’s attention. His smirk was immediate. “Deal.”
With that, he turned and walked toward Ivy.
She sat with one leg crossed over the other, arms folded over her chest, staring blankly at the glass table. Christian’s shirt hung loosely around her frame.
Taking a seat on the one-seater couch beside her, he leaned forward. "Ivy," he started carefully.
Her head turned toward him, her eyes cold.