Facade of Love

Chapter 269 A Hair–Trigger Moment

Why were reporters here?

Charlie handed me a bouquet, and the scent of flowers I had not smelled in ages lifted spirits. I had always loved flowers. Teir fragrance always made me happy.

my

The fact that I could not remember ever sharing my love for flowers with anyone puzzled me. Without overthinking it, I faced Charlie and asked, “Mr. Yates, what are you doing here?” Charlie, oblivious to anyone else, gave me a grin that could light up the room, “I’m here to pick you up and take you out for a treat.”

I could not help but sneak a peek at Idris, who was standing off to the side, his expression stormy with obvious annoyance.

A headache was starting to brew. Had these two planned this?

With reporters snapping photos outside, and my ex–husband and….

Charlie’s actions were bound to stir up rumors, especially among the wildly imaginative netizens.

a strained smile, “Thanks

so long, you must be dying for something sweet,” Charlie cut me off before I could finish,

I realized what was happening. As we walked past Idris, he grabbed my other wrist,

stood my ground, and Charlie glanced back at me. His eyes soon shifted to Idris,

was the epitome of calm indifference. His good looks were marred only by the faintest trace of annoyance as he faced Charlie. “Where are you planning

“Wife? You’re kidding, right, Mr. Young? The whole world knows about your divorce from Ms. Scott. It was all over the news. Surely, that’s still fresh in everyone’s

However, he kept his cool. “That’s none

luck. He stared down Idris, unafraid. “What’s the matter? Did Ms. Scott leave you on her own? Or…” He paused dramatically before delivering his punchline. ‘Or did the Youngs throw her to the wolves when trouble came knocking, afraid she would Irag you down? But now that the coast is clear, you suddenly remember she is your wife?” He let out a snide chuckle, “The Youngs sure know how to

the air, not loud but in the quiet expanse of the police station ntrance, they might as well have been shouted. The reporters, hungry for a scoop that would et social media on fire, hung on every

unspoken

Idris was not exactly Mr. Nice Guy. Sure, he could play the part of the

perfect, right?

like he owned the place. If these two went at it here and now, we would be the talk

to intervene, “Mr. Yates…” but Idris’s voice cut through the tension, “Officer Jackson!” It was deep, controlled, and impossible to read. I