My Flirtacious Husband (Genevieve and Armand)

Chapter 82

Chapter 82 She Would Rather Die

“Genev, you smell so nice…” Patrick’s voice trailed off while his body pressed against Genevieve’s

back subconsciously.

Genevieve could feel her hair stand on end when Patrick’s breath blew on her skin. She scrambled

forward to get away from him.

After putting some distance between herself and Patrick, Genevieve turned to look at him. The latter’s

face was slightly flushed, and he was obviously not himself. She asked, “Patrick, did you go into the

room just now?”

When she was standing outside of the room, she speculated that the men inside were taking certain

drugs judging from their rhythm of breathing.

“No, I was at the balcony just now.” Patrick sniffed, and then his eyes fell on Genevieve again.

Slowly, lust bloomed in his eyes.

“Genev, you really smell so nice.” He strode forward to Genevieve, and said again, “Let me smell you

again.”

The color instantly drained from Genevieve’s face when she saw Patrick advancing toward her.

Seeing that the elevator next to her had yet to come, she ran to the other side of the corridor, and

Patrick quickly chased after her.

Haven’t I returned the problematic brooch to Queenie? Why does Patrick think that I smell nice?

At the thought of that, Genevieve raised her arm and sniffed her coat, but she did not catch any scent

from it.

When she was about to rummage through her clothes to check if there was anything else Queenie had

stuffed on her, Patrick caught up with her and threw her against the wall. Then, he leaned over her

body.

Genevieve’s back hurt from the impact. She took a deep breath of cold air, but before she could react,

Patrick buried his head in her neck and started rubbing against it.

“Patrick, let go of me!” Genevieve yelled while twisting her wrist vigorously.

Patrick clutched her hands tightly and started pecking on her collarbone.

Genevieve’s body shook uncontrollably. She clenched her teeth tightly, bent her right knee, and

slammed it into Patrick’s crotch. Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Ouch!” Patrick howled and his grip on her loosened. Genevieve took the opportunity to push the man

away before she slapped him hard in the face.

Patrick was stunned for a few seconds. He looked back at Genevieve, and sanity finally returned to his

eyes.

“Genev, why did you hit me?”

“What do you think I hit you for?” Genevieve took a few steps back, staring at him with a defensive

posture. “You were drugged. Are you aware of it?”

“How is that possible?” Patrick murmured softly, but he could feel his heart beating faster every second.

Something was really wrong.

During the years he was in the military academy, he had gone through countless training and had tried

hundreds of drugs.

However, this drug was something else. It permeated the air, silently penetrating into his skin and

driving him crazy.

Soon, Patrick smelled the faint and strange fragrance again, and his heart started beating faster.

“Leave through the emergency exit.” He forcibly suppressed the flame that was coursing through his

veins while backing away to distance himself from Genevieve.

Genevieve had seen how mad Patrick could get. She dared not delay a second longer and quickly

dashed toward the exit as fast as she could while taking out her mobile phone to make a call.

“Hello? Mrs. Faulkner, where are you now?” Steven’s voice sounded from the phone.

“Hurry up! Steven, please come over to the twelfth floor,” Genevieve spurted in a taut voice. She barely

said a few words before her arm was grabbed suddenly from behind, and her phone dropped onto the

carpet.

Patrick had caught up with her and secured her two hands behind her back, pressing her upper body

against the wall.

He then lowered his head, lips lingering behind the back of her neck. His free hand stretched out to the

front and grabbed her white shirt. With a quick yank, several buttons of the shirt popped out.

Genevieve instantly felt a chill on her shoulders and chest, and she almost broke down over the

sensation she felt.

This time, she was seized by Patrick with no way of escape. She could neither move her hands nor

feet.

When she noticed that Patrick’s hand was on her skin, Genevieve tensed up and screamed through

her throat, “Patrick! F*cking sober up now!”

Although she was on good terms with Patrick, he was still a man, not to mention that he was drugged

at the moment. She was like a fish in a barrel, and her life was entirely at his mercy then. Genevieve

felt humiliated.

Is this the end of me?

Genevieve looked up the corridor from the corner of her eyes and faintly saw a surveillance camera in

the corner. Her heart sank a little, and despair crept up her mind.

She would rather die than get molested in this place.

Genevieve was about to kill herself by biting her tongue when a very faint scent entered her nostrils.

The scent penetrated into Genevieve’s skin, and right immediately, her movement became sluggish. A

sudden surge of restlessness radiated from within her, and she felt inexplicably uncomfortable.

Right then, a slender figure walked over and smashed the vase in his hand on Patrick’s head.

Patrick was covered in blood from where he got smashed by the vase. His grip on Genevieve

loosened. The next second, he was hit hard again on where he was bleeding.

Patrick grunted and fell to the ground.