Chapter 491

The brutal beating quickly drew a crowd of spectators.

Vivian found a secluded spot and sat down gracefully, crossing her legs. She was ready to intervene if Nathaniel dared to fight back—she’d make sure he learned his lesson.

But Nathaniel’s reaction stunned her.

Sophia struck him four, five times—hard—yet he didn’t even flinch. His expression remained devoted, almost reverent.

"Sophia," he murmured, cheeks reddened from the blows, "can I hold you?"

His arms stretched toward her as if the pain meant nothing. All he wanted was to pull her close.

"Don’t you dare touch me, you bastard!"

Her fury only grew. She slapped him again and again until her palms burned.

The crowd couldn’t stay silent.

"This woman is insane! Who does she think she is? No man deserves this kind of abuse!"

"Pathetic. Look at him still begging for her attention. He’s asking for it at this point."

"Since when is it okay for women to hit men? Where’s the justice?"

Sophia’s temper flared. She whirled on them, snarling, "Got nothing better to do? Shut your mouths and leave, or I’ll slap you too!"

But the taunts only grew louder.

"A man like him—refined, handsome—deserves better than some violent shrew."

Then, a bold young woman stepped forward, gripping Nathaniel’s arm. "Sweetheart," she cooed, "if she treats you like this, she doesn’t love you. Dump her. I’ll treat you right."

Sophia saw red. She yanked Nathaniel behind her, staking her claim. "This bastard is mine. Even if I beat him to death, he stays mine. Back off, you little nobody!"

The woman smirked. "Let him decide. No man would stay with a brute like you."

She leaned around Sophia, whispering to Nathaniel, "Blink if you need help. We’ll get you out of this."

His face was swollen, his perfect features marred—yet he smiled.

"Everyone, relax," he said, voice calm. "This is just how we show love. The harder she hits me, the more she cares. And I love her for it. You wouldn’t understand."

The crowd gaped.

Sophia wanted to scream. "You’re insane!"

The woman backed off, embarrassed. "Fine. Your funeral."

With nothing left to gawk at, the crowd dispersed.

Nathaniel turned to Sophia, eyes shining. "Now that they’re gone… hit me as much as you want."

He took her hand, closed his eyes, and waited.

To him, this was bliss. She was touching him. Fighting for him.

"I’d die happy if it’s by your hand," he whispered.

Sophia gagged.