The Broken-hearted She And The Icy He (Lily and John) novel Chapter 663

**TITLE: My Wife 663**
**CONTENT: Chapter 663 The Wedding Night**

Adeline didn’t genuinely need to relieve herself, yet the very thought sparked a clever idea in her mind. She turned to Norman with a feigned urgency, “Unlock these handcuffs. I really need to use the restroom! The chain is long enough for you to move around freely in the basement.”

A sly grin spread across Norman’s face as he wrapped his arm around her slender waist, his touch sending shivers down her spine. “Adeline, if you’re in such desperate need, I could always carry you. I’d be more than happy to serve you,” he suggested, his voice dripping with a suggestive tone.

“Get lost! Don’t you dare touch me!” she snapped back, her voice laced with disgust.

The mere thought of being close to him, even while fully clothed, was enough to make her stomach churn. The idea of him carrying her to the restroom made her feel nauseous, as if she might collapse right then and there from sheer revulsion.

Norman’s expression shifted as he processed her ploy; she wasn’t genuinely desperate for the restroom, but rather trying to manipulate him into releasing her from the handcuffs. His eyes darkened dangerously, a mixture of threats and promises swirling within them. “Adeline, you know how much I dislike it when you misbehave. If you stay by my side like the good girl I want you to be, I’ll shower you with love, spoil you endlessly, and keep you safe forever. But if you dare to act clever again or try to escape… I cannot promise what I might do when I lose control!”

In a sudden movement, he stood up, striding towards the table opposite the bed, where he lit two red candles, their flames flickering ominously in the dim light. “Adeline, tonight, with you finally here with me, marks our wedding night. Let’s start with a toast.”

Pervert!

Adeline felt her sanity teetering on the brink, driven to the edge by Norman’s twisted desires. Who in their right mind would want to spend their wedding night or share a toast with someone like him?

She recalled the novels she had skimmed through, where the male protagonist was often psychotic, dark, and held the heroine captive. Readers seemed to revel in those tales, but she could never grasp their allure. To her, love without freedom and respect was nothing more than the ramblings of a madman.

“Adeline, drink your toast,” Norman commanded, placing a delicate wine glass into her reluctant hand. In a moment of defiance, she hurled the glass at his face, her voice ringing with fury.

“I hate you, and I will not share a toast with you!”

The pale purple glass shattered against his face, red wine splattering across the bedsheets and staining his clothes. Surprisingly, Norman didn’t react with anger. Instead, he picked up the glass, refilled it with a calmness that unnerved her.

“It’s alright. If you won’t drink it yourself, I’ll make sure you do,” he said, his voice smooth and unyielding.

After downing the wine from his own glass, he pinched her chin with a force that left no room for resistance, tilting her head back as he poured the wine into her mouth.

Adeline was acutely aware that pregnant women should avoid alcohol, and she clamped her mouth shut with determination, refusing to let him win.

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