Chinese wealthy family, my billionaire mother-in-law

His voice was full of threats, he looked at her deeply, turned off the light, and began to tear Wen Ying's hospital clothes.

Wen Ying felt a chill on her back, and then she regained consciousness. She tried her best to push him, but couldn't push him, and held his hand to prevent him from going crazy: "The elder is still outside! Let go, don't go crazy..."

"They have left, and now there are only two of us in the room...so you can call without any worries, eh? Do you understand?"

Song Jingming laughed a few times, his voice low and dangerous. Wen Ying couldn't help but tremble when he heard it: "No, you drank too much, didn't you..."

"Yeah. It's not much...it's just right to serve you. Ha..."

Wen Ying only had the small white cotton sling left, which he lifted up and piled on her chest. She didn't quite understand why Song Jingming was suddenly full of hostility, just because she made a phone call?

Do I have to report to him every phone call I make in the future?

She was a little angry and tried her best to resist. But the more she resisted, the more cranky Song Jingming's thoughts became, so that under the influence of alcohol, he slowly lost his mind, and his mind was filled with one thought: let her know who he belonged to.

He wanted to hear her scream, hear her cry, and hear her beg for mercy.

Hear her call Mr. Song.

He held her hands against the marble sink and forced her to look in the mirror. The room was dark. He smiled evilly and unlocked the door, opening a small crack and a beam of white light immediately shone in. Wen Ying could still see what he looked like in front of the mirror even though his eyes were filled with water marks.

Only a weak pure white sling was left, half-covered and half-covered, hanging on the collarbone of her chest. Her hands were still shackled behind her back by Song Jingming. She closed her eyes and did not dare to look. Tears squeezed into her eyes and hung in the corners of her eyes with a pitiful look. Light.

Song Jingming swallowed and pursed his lips. His eyes flashed with uncontrollable desire. He looked greedily at the two people in the mirror and murmured hoarsely in her ear: "Wife, hold back...I'm coming."

……

It seems that under the paralysis of alcohol, time will become extremely slow.

Wen Ying had cried so much that she had no strength left, and was like a rag doll being torn apart by Song Jingming. He was not satisfied and wanted to eat this weak person bite by bite.

He listened to her shouting, heard her unconsciously call out "Song Jingming", and looked at her half-squinted eyes with a confused expression.

Then, like a devil reciting Buddhist scriptures, he hurts and redeems at the same time.

Wen Ying fainted from pain, not only because of his endless demands, but also because of the pain in his back rubbing against the sofa and the hospital bed.

In the early morning, when Song Jingming woke up a little and looked at her pale and weak body in his arms, with her eyes red and swollen from crying, he regretted his rudeness just now.

He wanted to dress her. But he found that she was already scarred, and even the scabbed back was oozing with blood, which was stained on the snow-white sheets, and the dots were extremely obvious.

He choked, and his mind suddenly cleared completely. But she was at a loss, her hands stopped in the air, and she didn't dare to touch her again.

He got out of bed and sat on the stool next to him, his eyes red and his head buried in thought. In the dark ward, it was so quiet that he could feel time passing by. He looked at the pale moonlight outside the window hitting the scarred rag doll on the bed, and suddenly thought, why would he be so unreasonably violent tonight?

Because of that inexplicable WeChat and phone call?

Song Jingming wanted to hold her hand, but stopped when he was about to touch it. She was too weak now, as if she was about to expire and couldn't breathe. He took it back tremblingly and turned around to find Wen Ying's cell phone.

Even when she was so hurt and vulnerable, all he could think about was who she was talking to on the phone.

He must know.

Song Jingming stood up, pursed his lips and looked for Wen Ying's cell phone. Finally he found it behind the bathroom door, and he pressed it. enter password.

The words on the screen made his pupils shrink suddenly: Wrong password.

She changed her password. Why?

Song Jingming snorted coldly, put the phone in his pocket, washed his face with cold water, put his hands on the sink, and looked at himself in the mirror, expressionless and even sinister.

He was now anxious and angry, accompanied by regret for the violence he had just committed and suspicion of Wen Ying. It was like a thorn flower was buried in my heart, piercing it deeper and deeper with the beating of my heart.

He returned to the hospital bed, lifted Wen Ying up and placed her on the clean hospital bed next to her, and called the nurse.

The nurse was surprised, but didn't dare to ask any more questions. The girl on the bed had tears on her face, and her exposed collarbone was covered with bruises from kisses. She couldn't imagine the scene below.

He quickly got the medicine and wanted to disinfect the bleeding area on Wen Ying's back.

Song Jingming took the medicine and said, "I'll wipe it. Change everything on the bed right away."

He didn't dare to look at the blood on the bed, and he didn't dare to let Wen Ying see it. Taking the potion and wiping her bloody back bit by bit with a cotton swab, the person on the bed frowned, as if she was in pain, as if she was having a nightmare.

The nurse changed the sheets and quilt and went out. Song Jingming found a book and gently applied the medicine on her back to relieve her pain.

After waiting for the potion to dry up and stop bleeding, he gently picked her up, put her in clean hospital clothes, placed her on the new bed that the nurse had just changed, and covered her with a quilt. But he didn't dare to lie with her.

He sat beside the bed until dawn.

In the early morning, Wen Ying woke up first. Her voice was hoarse as if she was fleeing in the desert, and there was an uncomfortable soreness in her legs. Her eyes were very dry from crying, and she could barely see clearly after blinking several times.

She lay on the bed, staring at the white ceiling, suddenly wondering if she was really hurt last night. But the dull pain in her back was not fake. She calmed down and finally remembered that she had fainted from crying last night.

Now, as sanity gradually clears up.

Song Jingming's fierce voice and movements also broke into his mind. Along with my feeble begging for mercy and ineffective resistance, one sound and another.

Attacking her empty heart.

She stood up and felt a stinging sensation all over her body, as if she had been thrown into a group of cacti. She couldn't help but moan.

Only then did she see Song Jingming lying beside the bed, his back rising and falling slightly with his breathing. She watched with cold eyes, she didn't understand why this man could treat her so well that he could treat her so cruelly as hell.

Thinking of the look in his eyes that wanted to tear her apart last night, Wen Ying tightened her grip on the quilt. She was scared.

How is this different from abuse?

Song Jingming woke up immediately when he heard the sound. He had been lying down all night, his whole body was stiff, his eyes were cloudy and confused, and he suddenly woke up when he looked at Wen Ying.

Her eyes were wary and disappointed, empty and indifferent.

"Wen Ying, Wen Ying. I'm sorry, you...don't look at me like that, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I drank too much last night. I really didn't mean to..."