Shattered Illusions Love Lies and Redemption (Lizetta and Remington) novel Chapter 172

Chapter 172 

His exposed neck and collarbones were tinged with a faint blush, possibly from the alcohol or desire, as his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

It was somewhat mesmerizing. 

But such allure no longer stirred Lizetta’s heart; her face was icy cold. 

“Remington, if you’re in heat, go find your darling! She’s the one who got slapped and needs your care and comfort right now!” 

She shoved him towards the door! 

She was getting pretty darn good at handling situations like this. 

Remington felt a chill in his heart, but the heat and restlessness in his body didn’t dissipate one bit. 

He leaned into her, deliberately making a move, while his handsome face took on a dangerous and wicked look that wasn’t usually there, thanks to his damp hair. 

“Feeling it? Right now, you’re the only one I’m interested in. Let’s call it a breakup shag, shall we? We haven’t tried other positions and roles yet, and with the night being so long, let’s take our time to explore, so we don’t end up regretting it after the divorce.” 

Lizetta couldn’t believe such words were coming from the usually abstinent and cool Remington. 

Who would regret it? Who wants a breakup shag with him! 

She was on the verge of a breakdown when the elevator dinged to 

a stop. 

Lizetta, as if facing a formidable enemy, clung to the elevator’s handrail, determined to resist. 

Without giving her another look, Remington bent down to scoop her up. 

Lizetta clung to the railing, refusing to let go, but the man simply stepped forward. 

How could she resist his strength? 

She was carried out of the elevator against her will. 

Luckily, a man was walking towards them. 

Lizetta immediately cried for help, “Save me! Help me, I’m being kidnapped!” 

The man hesitated, then approached, “Sir, this lady doesn’t seem too keen on going with you?” 

Remington’s handsome face turned cold, “Didn’t you see my wife is drunk?” 

Lizetta’s face was flushed red, but she hadn’t drunk anything; she was just bullied by Remington in the 

elevator. 

She shook her head, “No! He’s lying, I’m not his wife, please help me call someone, or the police.” 

The man, seeing her urgency, bravely stood in front of him, although he found Remington quite intimidating, 

Remington chuckled and set Lizetta down. 

As soon as her feet hit the ground, Lizetta tried to run, but Remington grabbed the back of her neck, trapping her in his embrace. 

She wriggled like a chick unable to escape the eagle’s talons. 

Remington pulled out his phone, tapped a couple of times, and shoved it in front of the man. 

1/2 

For yourself? 

The man stared at the wedding photo on the screen, then back at Lizetta’s anxious and helpless face, and 

ald with displeasure, 

Drunk to the point of not recognizing your own husband?” 

He shook his head and, before leaving, even offered Remington some sympathetic advice, “Buddy, you need to keep a tighter leash on her.” 

Remington’s lips curled into a smile, “Thanks for the tip, just about to do that.” 

Lizetta was lost for words. 

She felt utterly powerless as Remington led her forward again. 

She asked resentfully, “What did you show him?” 

She couldn’t fathom it; with their sham of a marriage, and their expired sibling–like relationship, could Remington have their photo saved on his phone. 

In her panic, Lizetta’s mind was muddled, and before she could grasp what was happening, she was half–carried, half–dragged into the presidential suite at the end of the hallway. 

The door slammed shut behind them, and Lizetta was forced to retreat step by step. 

Remington removed his tie and threw it on the floor, then took off his suit jacket. 

His shirt had also got wet, and after the tussle in the elevator, it was now crumpled at the chest. 

He looked down at it, frowning in distaste. 

He undid his belt, pulled the shirt out of his trousers, and then tore it open. 

His solid pecs and taut abs were suddenly laid bare before Lizetta; the smooth lines of his muscle meandered down to where a teasing hint of a V–line could be peeked above his waistband. 

Lizetta’s breathing hitched as she was cornered to the sofa area; as her knees hit the sofa, she felt her legs. buckling and fell backward onto the couch.