I hate him even more!!!

"Am I a bad father now?" He asked. He loved how calm she was after he hugged her. George didn't know he had done what was in his head.

Before reaching the house, he thought about how he'd face that fierce lady he got married to. She wasn't like the women and girls he had dated. She wasn't interested in his look but what he had to offer.

And she was his boss. She was paying him, of course, she had power over him. But he also had some power.

He was using that power to make her feel a little calm. George didn't also expect it to work because she was already so angry, so angry to call him ugly.

"Where have you been?" She asked.

"Well, it's private and I don't feel I need to tell you."

She scoffed. 'He doesn't want to tell me because I refused to tell him more about my life with Tristan. He's so childish,' Natasha thought. She was still wrapped by George.

"Were you dying or what?" She asked abruptly without consideration at all.

This caused George to pull away gently, his dead brown eyes meeting her cold blue eyes. She raised her eyes to look at him as he was taller than her.

"Why do you ask?"

"Isn't it obvious, you dummy?! Have you seen how skinny you look?"

"I'm working out and trying to be healthy," he responded, which was a lie.

"By looking like someone who has a month or a few days to live?"

George looked at her hopelessly. 'She definitely isn't and shouldn't be the home I'm looking for,' he thought, looked away, and said; "You don't know anything about me. I know you have more power but it doesn't feel right to judge me, okay? Rebecca is happy to see me and I'm satisfied with that."

George left her front, took a few steps away from her, back facing her, and then declared: "I'll make dinner whether you accept it or not."

Rebecca was waiting for George because he bought her more toys to play with and this time he was watching a cartoon with her. She had a lot of feelings to express so when George got to her, she began to explain what happened while he left.

Natasha grimaced because her daughter's grammar was so bad, she didn't even understand what she was saying but to her surprise, George did. George communicated with her daughter without any effort to process her gibberish statements. She was impressed but jealous.

Natasha ordered Yvonne to bring the flowers George brought to her room and left the living room. She sat in front of her mirror for too long, chatting with her best friend who made her feel alive.

Natasha didn't know when darkness covered the city until George entered the room. She saw him through her mirror and stood up. At this time, she was no longer chatting with Jasmine.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him because he had a huge bag in his hand, stating that he'd be living in the same room as hers.

"It's obvious what I'm doing," he responded. There would be no future for these two if they kept attacking each other as if they were enemies in their past lives.

"I don't want to share my room with you, there's a spacious room beside my baby's room, you can have that room," she told him while looking away from him.

George responded with silence but the next moment he was standing in front of her.

"What if I want to share the room with you?" He asked her with that deep voice and she subconsciously looked into his eyes, those dead eyes.

"I don't want that and I have the power to make you leave," she answered him with a clear expression.

George smiled. "I like women like you," he shocked her.

"What do you mean women like me?" She faced him, ready for a hot argument if it led to one.

"Cute," he surprised her again. "I'm sharing this room with you, Natasha and I know you'll eventually tell me that you loved my stay in this room."

"In your fucking dreams, dummy."

"Okay," he shrugged and she noticed his eyes without them being dead and emotionless.

Natasha was still pondering about his weight loss. She wanted to ask again but she told herself that he didn't deserve a caring person like her in his life. Was she really caring?

"I repeat, you this man! I don't want you in this room!" She exclaimed, walking to him to grab his bag but before she couldn't put her thoughts into action, George grabbed her by her wrist gently because he knew she had a scar there and slammed her a bit hard to the wall close by.

"Ahh," she complained. "Do you hit women?!" She cried.

"I satisfied them, premium satisfaction, wife. Now tell me, didn't you love the way I fingered her that night? Do you remember all you said when I gave you that pleasure?" He said to her slowly, calmly, and with a deeper voice.

Natasha felt weak, her pussy twitched and she didn't know if she was actually wet but she missed that feeling. He was actually very good at f*cking her.

She hated how weak she was at the moment. She didn't even know a better response to his question.

"You would love my stay here because if you need me in the morning, immediately you come back from work, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, I'll be here to give you all the pleasure you could ever ask for," he whispered all this to her.

'Damn it, my knees are weak and I want something I shouldn't…why is this man so compelling? It feels as if I'm under a spell.' She wanted to break free from the heat covering both of them as he pinned her to the wall but there was pleasure in the moment.

Natasha could hear her heart racing and hammering so loud and she knew George could hear the beat. She didn't dare look into his eyes.

His eyes were so fine and how lazy they were could make her do something crazy.

"I want to stay with you. It's beneficial to the two of us, think about it, baby," he used that deep voice to say those words to her, and she had to swallow.

Natasha still couldn't speak, she just lowered her head, imagining George's two fingers in her hole, slamming and making that funny wet sound. 'Oh my, I want it,' she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"I'll have to think about it," she eventually replied after trying not to sound horny and George pulled back to give her the space she needed to regain her sanity.

"I'll leave my bag here and will be back after dinner, my love," he teased her by licking her cheek once.

Natasha raised her head when he turned away from her. She watched him leave and then she climbed her bed, grabbed her pillow, and pressed her face in it to scream. "I hate him even more!!!"