Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

Everett had definitely had too much to drink. His gaze was unfocused as he instinctively found his way back to his room. The familiar, subtle scent of her filled the air, stirring warmth within him, amplified by the alcohol. He longed for her, yearning to share some tender moments.

There's a saying that couples fight at one end of the bed and make up at the other. He always saw their issues as minor misunderstandings, firmly believing that Selena would eventually come around and they'd move past it all.

So her fierce reaction caught him off guard, beyond anything he had anticipated.

He understood her pain and grief from losing a child. Her reluctance and the change in their intimacy made sense, but he always managed to bring a smile to her face in the end, and that was enough for him.

He believed that with time, or perhaps with another child, things would improve.

This certainty was as strong as his business acumen, which had never let him down. A well-known financial magazine in New York had once praised him for his extraordinary vision, able to pinpoint long-term opportunities with accuracy-a testament to his skill.

Yet here he was, sitting on the floor, slowly looking up at the figure on the bed, curled up tightly like a little hedgehog, all defensive. For a moment, he felt lost.

showing her disdain. But back then, wrapped in his affection for her, he had patiently

away, refusing to

this pretext, she could

remarrying. He knew there

more Everett thought about

emotionally attached to another man, especially

veins on his forehead throbbed, an intense coldness enveloping his body, his dark eyes stormy. He stood up, striding towards Selena, his presence as ominous

demon from hell.

was too late. Her wrist was caught, pulling her towards him. Everett's fingers tangled in Selena's thick hair, his cold fingertips pressing against her scalp, sending

slight tug, he forced her to

her breath,

on his lips, his voice low and gravelly, enticing yet chillingly