Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

Chapter 351

Through the hazy night, he glanced up towards the master bedroom on the second floor, where the light was still burning bright. Clearly, Selena wasn't asleep yet.

He had been home for a while, but he hesitated to go inside, hoping to dodge another argument. The look of resentment and deep loathing in Selena's eyes was something he couldn't bear. It not only angered him but also pushed him to the edge of losing control. He was her husband, not her adversary.

Suddenly, a shadow appeared at the window. He lifted his gaze, eyes narrowing slightly. Selena was getting ready for bed, closing the window, when she caught sight of Everett by chance. So, he was home already.

Their eyes locked across the night, neither able to make out the other's features clearly. Yet, Everett felt a flicker of hope, wishing Selena would call out to him, even just wave him back. He'd rush to her side in a heartbeat, ready to be there for her. But reality hit hard as Selena quickly looked away and, with a firm snap, shut the window. The bedroom light went out immediately after.

Everett's handsome face turned cold, his brief hope morphing into annoyance. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his foot. Heartless woman! Was this how she treated her husband? Maybe he had been too lenient with her! He pulled out his phone and dialed Jaime. It rang three times before Jaime leisurely answered.

"Where are you?" Everett asked bluntly.

Jaime snorted, "We're done, remember? Why even bother asking? I won't tell you!"

in a booth at a bar. Jaime, arms crossed, watched Everett down drink after drink, his face a mask of cold

her right, but no, you had to act tough. Now

lifted his eyes,

all you want, but I'm still saying it Jaime was still sore

of Everett and

the most hurt, especially since they had

face. How could he not be

just don't get it—after getting married, you had all the chances to treat her well. You

catching the glint of the liquid inside. He usually kept his deepest secrets to himself, but maybe it was the despair that made him spill it now.

like a bomb going

"What?"

barely believe what he was hearing. He stared, wide-eyed, "You, you have someone else? Who? Since when? It's not Margot, not

back

postpartum confinement. Ava had taken good care of her, and she had been working