Obedience No More He's the One I Deserved novel Chapter 290

**Beseeched 290 – The Quiet Plea**

“Let go.”

Dawn’s voice was a gravelly whisper, barely breaking the silence that hung in the air. As she uttered those two words, she raised her arm, and with it, the grip Jonathan had on her.

Without sparing him a glance, she turned on her heel and ascended the staircase, her footsteps echoing with a mix of resolve and despair.

The living room, once filled with tension, gradually settled into a stillness. Breaths became slower, more even, as if the very walls were exhaling a sigh of relief.

Roxanne jolted awake, as if emerging from a nightmare. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she hissed, “Did you see that? You actually let her hit me!”

Jonathan remained impassive, his expression as unyielding as stone. It was as though Roxanne’s chaos was a mere whisper in the background of his thoughts. He settled himself beside her, his demeanor unaffected.

The morning light streamed through the window, casting sharp, defined lines across his face, highlighting the cool detachment in his gaze.

“She’s upset. She has to get it out somehow,” he stated matter-of-factly.

What? Did he truly hear himself?

Roxanne’s fist clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palm as anger surged within her. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she rose to her feet, her resolve hardening. She said nothing further, but her presence was charged with unspoken words. Roxanne smoothed her hair back, her fingers trembling slightly, and then she spoke, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and defiance, “You better not let her leave the house. If you do, I’ll make her pay.”

Jonathan’s gaze flicked toward her, his expression icy and sharp, like a blade poised to cut.

Roxanne stood her ground, refusing to flinch. “You don’t believe me? Try me.”

“You dare?” he challenged, his voice low and dangerous.

It wasn’t a question of whether Roxanne feared him; it was something deeper, something unspoken that hung between them.

His eyes were dark and inscrutable, as if they could penetrate the very fabric of her being. Roxanne felt her breath catch in her throat, a wave of unease washing over her. She averted her gaze, reaching into her bag for a pair of sunglasses. Sliding them on, she forced a laugh, tinged with guilt, “Haha. What would I be afraid of?”

Though her face was swollen, the sunglasses provided a thin veil of concealment, softening her appearance just enough so she didn’t look quite as battered.

Taking another deep breath, she strode toward the door, determination in her steps.

“Jonathan, mind your woman.”

From the top of the stairs, Dawn’s voice rang clear, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Her fingers gripped the railing tightly, the pressure turning her knuckles pale. Moments later, the sound of a car engine roared to life in the driveway. With a heavy heart, she turned and retreated to her room, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her.

Ten minutes ticked by before a soft knock interrupted the silence.

“Ms. Dawn, Mr. Jonathan wants you to come down for breakfast.”

Dawn sat perched on the edge of her bed, lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall. After a moment of hesitation, she finally stood up and stepped out of her room, her mind clouded with uncertainty.

In the dining room, Jonathan had donned a dark suit, an image of authority that radiated an untouchable air, as if he were clad in impenetrable armor.

He glanced at her as she entered, but his silence was deafening.

Dawn took a seat at the table, and a maid appeared, placing a glass of warm milk and a piece of toast before her.

“Take the milk away,” Dawn ordered, her voice steady yet firm.

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