The Cold Surgeon's Contract Bride novel Chapter 18

As soon as I returned to my apartment, I started packing my suitcase.

I figured it was better to leave with some dignity than wait for Ferris to throw me out.

Just as my suitcase was almost full, I heard the front door open. A moment later, Ferris's tall, commanding figure loomed in the bedroom doorway.

He was home.

He didn't look like his usual immaculate self. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. The dim bedroom lights cast harsh shadows over his face, giving him a dangerously unhinged, fragile look.

It was highly unusual.

We stared at each other for a long moment. I calmly zipped up my suitcase, only for him to demand in a harsh, irritated tone, "What kind of tantrum is this?"

Tantrum?

I chewed on the word, laughing bitterly inside.

Even now, he was still trying to play games with me?

I gripped the handle of my suitcase, violently suppressing the sickening ache in my chest, and feigned perfect composure. "It's not a tantrum. The contract only has two months left anyway. We might as well end it early..."

"Tired of acting?" Ferris cut me off, letting out a dark scoff. "You haven't even officially started at Capital General, and you're already rushing to cut ties with me?"

Cut ties?

I blinked and stared at him. It was the same flawless bone structure, the same handsome face, so why did he look like a complete monster right now?

I decided I had absolutely nothing left to lose. "That's right. After all your efforts to keep me out, you must be pretty shocked I managed to get in, right?"

His eyes flashed with icy contempt, his entire aura screaming for me to back off.

He was furious.

I had no desire to provoke him further. I calmly looked away and started dragging my suitcase toward the door.

A strong arm slammed against the doorframe, blocking my path.

Being this close, the sharp scent of alcohol instantly hit me.

He had been drinking again.

The famously disciplined Dr. Sterling was drinking alcohol again, all for his precious Little Mischief.

"Move," I ordered, my tone freezing over, though a pathetic trace of heartbreak managed to slip through.

I was so weak.

Ferris didn't move an inch. Instead, he leaned in closer.

His hot breath fanned across my face. Without warning, he reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead.

His cool fingertips sent a jolt of electricity through my skin. Startled, I stumbled backward, but he relentlessly closed the distance, backing me up until I was pinned against the wall.

Our breath tangled. His presence was utterly suffocating. His dark, glass-like eyes trapped me like an inescapable net.

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