Billionaire, Let's Divorce! by BELLA

Chapter 0292

"Oh!" She piped up, her eyes widening to the size of saucers,

You're back."

I held her gaze unflinchingly, deliberately refraining from responding to her startled exclamation as she likely anticipated. We remained locked in an unwavering stare for what felt like a few more seconds, and throughout that prolonged moment, try as I might, I couldn't suppress the wayward thoughts racing through my mind at breakneck speed.

Even as she continued to stare at me, her entire demeanor exuded a palpable sense of unease. Her palms were tightly curled around the torn page from Amie's drawing book.

I fixed her with a questioning gaze, my eyes darting back and forth between her face, which was etched with poorly concealed anxiety, and her balled fist, which seemed to tremble slightly under my s scrutiny. She appeared to comprehend the unspoken inquiry in my expression because she abruptly let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a strangled hiccup. Raising her clenched fists in a gesture that was likely meant to appear casual but came across as forced.

She blurted out the most transparent lie I'd heard in recent memory, "Oh this? It's absolutely nothing."

1 arched my eyebrows skeptically, the muscles in my forehead tightening as I regarded her with mounting suspicion.

She widened her grin in response, the corners of her mouth stretching again as she reiterated, "It's nothing?"

with the forced grin was not herself. There was definitely something about the torn pages that she clenched

drew me? But why uld she do that? This

just been leading me on all this while. Maybe she really didn't want me for her friend and she was now actively trying

way here, had she just been seeing me as some fool all these while? Then I suddenly wondered if she had any influence in Ana's resolve to remain single and not

whose answers keep eluding me, I decided

Clara? Why did you

lips turned downward and she finally looked away. Her

just killed someone" she muttered, her voice lacking the sarcasm that was always laced to it as she unfurled the crumpled piece and stretched her hand forward to show

brows furrowed as I squinted at the vivid painting in the paper. Slowly,

her.

at the front and back of the page

on top of it. If it had just been the

of the page while the back carried another painting of a person lying on a bed but with a harrowing expression on the person's face and each of

hand to my side and glanced at the sleeping