My Flirty Husband Is a Bully by Adam Ella Chapter 148

Chapter 148 Only Death Can Do Us Part
The last time when Genevieve wanted to take Cooper down with her and knocked into his car, she was doing it to avenge her parents. She didn’t care if she lived or died.
Now, she wanted to stay alive. Genevieve wanted to reclaim Specter Corporation so that her parents and grandmother could rest in peace.
Even if Armand had some feelings for her, she wanted to give it a go. She was crestfallen, as he would always give in to Marilyn and was not bothered even though Marilyn had hired people to kill her several times.
Looking at the words on the notepad, Armand said blandly, “It’s not time yet. Why should we get a divorce? I will never get a divorce.”
After a pause, he continued, “Only death can do us part.”
Genevieve’s fingers around the phone turned pale as she typed: What? Do you want to watch Marilyn kill me?
“This time, it was my fault,” said Armand as he lowered his head to rest his chin on her head. “Genevieve, it won’t happen again.”
Genevieve cocked her head to one side, trying hard to put some distance between them.
It won’t happen again? If it weren’t for Patrick, I would’ve been dead by now! How could he look me in the eye and say such audacious words?
Genevieve thought of the photos she saw that night, the look in his eyes, and how aggrieved she felt. She felt an immense sense of self-loathing, and tears began to pool in her eyes.
The phone vibrated, and Genevieve saw a new message pop up on the screen.
Marilyn: Mando, Timothy just came by again. He said that the baby is sleeping soundly in my belly. My appetite today was really good too.
Genevieve felt disgusted at the mere sight of that woman’s name. She opened WhatsApp and immediately blocked Marilyn’s number. She also blocked the number on the contact list.
Flipping through the phone, she deleted everything that had to do with Marilyn.
Armand watched with a gloomy expression as he let Genevieve do whatever she wanted with his phone. Looking down at the oatmeal in the bowl which had already cooled down, he scooped up a spoonful and said, “If you’re done venting, eat some.”
Genevieve: No!
Exasperated, she simply typed those two letters, then ruthlessly threw the phone to the ground, causing the device to shatter into pieces.
Armand’s countenance remained unchanged. He ate a bit of the oatmeal, then lowered his head and fed the woman.
No matter how much of a scene Genevieve made, Armand did not even flinch. Even after Genevieve left two bloody scratch marks on his neck, Armand still put his arm around her waist and forcefully held her jaw to open her mouth and stuff the oatmeal into her mouth.
Genevieve pursed her lips tightly after she ate the oatmeal. If looks could kill, Armand would be dead. Yet Armand chuckled and said, “If you don’t want me to feed you, be good.”
Genevieve was so enraged that she knocked her head against the man’s chest. She did not even feel any pain.
She kept making a scene until she eventually exhausted all her energy and was too tired to continue. When Armand finally let her go, she pulled the blanket over herself.
She wanted to cover herself with the blanket, but when she whiffed the smell of disinfectant, she disdainfully uncovered herself.
Armand’s sharp eyes caught sight of this. He grabbed his coat and covered her with it.
Genevieve thought that the coat was probably even dirtier than the blanket and wanted to toss it aside. Before she could, Armand said, “Unless you want me to hug you to sleep, keep the coat on.”
At a loss for words, Genevieve spitefully clenched onto the coat and kept it over her body.
After the woman finally settled down in bed, Armand pulled out a chair and sat down. He took out his laptop and dealt with his unfinished business. By the time he raised his head again, he could hear faint breathing sounds.
Genevieve had fallen asleep.
Armand turned off his laptop and was about to make a call when he remembered that his phone had been smashed into smithereens. He got up and went outside.
Steven and Patrick were there outside the ward.
Steven was standing on one side of the corridor, busy doing something on his phone. Patrick, on the other hand, was leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the ward. His listless eyes were fixed on the door of the ward.