Chapter 282

• Joaquin Latham wasn’t having it. No matter how Zayla Steele pouted or snapped, he kept pushing the pills to her lips and made sure she swallowed them.
• Zayla frowned and took the medicine.
• “I’m doing this for your own good,” Joaquin said, grave and steady. “This isn’t for your memory. You hit your head in the crash, slept for three months, and your nerves are shot. Only this can help you recover bit by bit.” He lied without a blush, calm as stone.