Become the Richest Woman After Divorce

Chapter 47: Shouldn’t There Be Hatred?

Pierce gave him a cold, indifferent glance, his tone devoid of warmth:

“Sophia’s baby was lost due to Emelia’s hit, shouldn’t she hate?”

In one sentence, Nolan was completely dumbfounded.

He stood there stiffly, as if struck by a thunderbolt:

“How could it be…”

He had never heard Emelia mention it.

Pierce averted his gaze, his throat hitched slightly, his tone chilling a few degrees:

“I still stand by what I said, mind your own business less.”

He stood up, adjusting his suit buttons, his eyes and brows indifferent to the extreme, and added a sentence:

Also, be nicer to Sophia in the future, or don’t blame me for turning against you.

His tone was restrained and distant. Ever since Nolan was rude to Sophia at the bar last time, he had deliberately started to distance himself from Nolan.

Nolan sat there, stunned, watching Pierce leave.

He had never shown such a professional attitude before, and Nolan noticed it, feeling somewhat flustered inside.

***

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Chapter 47: Shouldn’t There Be Hatred?

In the evening.

The sun set in the west.

Sandra dragged Sophia out for a drink, the bar was noisy and bustling.

In the relatively secluded booth, Sophia’s mood had greatly improved after a few drinks.

Seemed to have thrown everything behind the mind.

She was wearing a seductive long dress, revealing her fair and lustrous shoulders, accentuating her slender waist, so dazzling that one couldn’t take their eyes off her.

Sandra went to dance on the dance floor, while Sophia was drinking one glass of alcohol after another.

She absentmindedly swirled the liquid in her wine glass, her gaze somewhat distant.

She was deliberately indulging in her fatigue and stress.

Suddenly, someone sat down beside her. She turned her head slowly, blinked, and in her moist eyes, there was a hint of clear confusion.

“Mr. Woodward.”

Derick’s face was stern and handsome, there was no one in the entire bar who looked better than him.

He chuckled, looking at her with great interest:

“Call me Derick, Sophia.”

“Derick.”

having drunk too much, had little judgment,

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Shouldn’t There

than her brain.

looked at her, raised an eyebrow, and reached out to pull her

up:

go for

already pulled into the middle of the

began, suitable for

gently encircled her waist, which was small enough to be held in one hand. Subconsciously, she began to

this once, she wanted to dance her heart out, forgetting all the

excitedly kept up

was like a little sprite, her features vivid and refined. Her movements were soft and

and fluttering with her movements, as if a glow was enveloping the two of

and dashing, the woman soft and delicate, radiant and exquisite.

scene was stunningly

everyone around stopped to admire their graceful

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Shouldn’t There

she had returned to her carefree self from three years

I was joyfully exuberant, I hadn’t

Very quickly.

The song ended.

a moment, her legs

caught her, gave a helpless laugh, and led her to the booth.

fatigue. Her rosy lips

eyes, gently brushing away the stray hair by her ear with a tender motion, and softly asked in her

you

drown her sorrows in alcohol, even unaware of

that she was very upset

he felt a bit sorry for this Sophia.

wanted to push Derick away, not wanting to be so close to him, but she couldn’t muster the strength in her

Derick didn’t hear what she said, so he leaned forward, closer to her ear.

did you say?”

The next second.

47: Shouldn’t There Be Hatred?

a little rabbit angrily gnawing in

feeling the pain, when Sophia let

were misty and flickering slightly, she

tone:

Pierce, bite you

a hint of complexity

she mistake

pursed his lips, “Sophia, can I take care of you?”

her delicate and lustrous profile, subconsciously wanting to lean in

the next

great force

a punch landed on his

eyes, deep and intense, lifted to meet the oncoming Pierce,

deep as ice, shrouded in an undeniable chill. A surging anger brewed in the depths

leisurely arranging his

Woodward, I warned you, stay away from her?”

was an undeniable danger.

down at the drunkenly dazed Sophia,

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47: Shouldn’t There Be

instantly.

coveting your