My ex-husband’s nightmare (Lydia and Mason) novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Lydia

Honestly, I don’t want to pull away. I am smiling within. He couldn’t help himself anymore.

Turning away from him and having nuts, which I am allergic to, all were part of my plan to make him unable to control himself, and much to my delight, they yielded the effect I wanted,

“I won’t try it, though; I’m okay with my choice,” But I couldn’t take a bite from it since Mason was holding my hand. Gripping it tightly, while at the same time trailing my thumb with his,

His touch ignited something within me. His finger felt hot as it continuously trailed my thumb, and for a moment, I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me..

The lady seated by Marcus’s side called his attention. He turned to her, and taking that opportunity, I turned to Mason.

He is staring straight into my eyes. I drew in a scent of breath, willing myself not to give off the vibe that I was beginning to get

nervous.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I mouthed to him, my eyes glancing around to make sure no one saw this.

“You are allergic to nuts.” His voice is not as low as mine. But it was drowned in the music enough that those around us didn’t hear.

“Stop.” I say, “Free my hand this instant.” My voice is sharp, but he doesn’t bulge, he just keeps holding on to me. His eyes didn’t move away from mine for a moment.

It was as though he was trying to tell me, “I won’t let you hurt yourself, and there’s nothing you can do.”

Well, you are so wrong, Mr Woods.

The next moment, I pushed down the fork I had kept on the table earlier.

It made a clanging sound, and at that moment, Marcus turned; now, he’d have to let me go.

But I was wrong. Mason wasn’t letting go of my hands. “Are you good there?” Marcus asked. I turned to him and nodded, smiling, Mason picked the fork himself and placed it on the table, his eyes pinned on Marcus.

Marcus’s jaws ticked. I looked between both men.

Mason looked like he would separate Marcus’s head from his body at any moment. The clattering of forks and knives mixed with the music. The air smelled like food.

However, the air around us was heavy, thick enough for a knife to cut through. I bit the inside of my lips, unsure if this was going the way I wanted.

“Miss Brooks,, I love baklava bites too. Does this mean we have the same taste?” Mr. Augustine’s voice resounded, and I wasn’t more relieved to hear his voice.

Mason placed my hand on his lap, causing me to lean to his side. I tensed when I felt my hand on his couch.

It was just a brush, but I felt it.

His dick was hard and was pushing against the trousers.

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Chapter 52

“Yes, I said flatly; my tone proved that I didn’t want to go further with the conversation

“Brooke, do you want to-

“Oh my god, Mr. Marcus.” a lady’s voice interrupted Marcus’s words. I can swear I heard him curse under his breath before coming

to her.

“Alina.” He said before switching to Italian.

Mason sighed; he tugged on my hand gently and slowly. I shifted my gaze from Marcus, who was now standing, to hug the woman.

“You can’t have nuts, Lydia.” His voice is deep and husky.

“And you think holding my hand would stop me?” Lasked, and I felt the grip tighten, but not enough to hurt me.

“Mr Woods, do you realize you are crossing the line right now?” I questioned.

“If that means you don’t get yourself killed, then so be it.”

I scoffed, “Now you care?” My tone was bitter, I know, but I couldn’t help it “Quit the pretense; what is it to you if I die?” Isn’t that what he always wanted?

That was why he set the prison ablaze five years ago–hoping to finally get rid of the thorn in his side forever.

“Lydia!” His voice was sharp.

“What?” I raised a brow matching his intensity.

Marcus had left with the woman.

“Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

“Goodness Lydia, why would you say that?”

“Let my hand go,” “Not until you get that removed.” I looked around, noticing the weird glances being thrown at us.

But he didn’t care.

I don’t care either.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I am not your–WIFE!” Anger started to brew within me. That Lydia that he could easily push around was gone.

The word wife seemed to have cut him off guard, and his eyes softened.

“We are divorced, Mason. I am not yours, and you have no right to hold me against my will

He didn’t say anything, and for the next second, we just sat there staring into each other’s eyes.

“If you don’t let my hands go, then I’ll scream.” His eyes moved down. Slowly, he looked up, trailing my body, and I felt violated in the most holy way.

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