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.

then, wrapped in his affection for her, he had patiently explained himself. She had

to push him away, refusing to let

as though under this pretext, she could rightfully keep him

of divorce, maybe even remarrying. He knew there was someone else in

more Everett

to another man, especially someone as possessive as him. It was a direct challenge

his body, his dark eyes stormy.

demon from hell.

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

tug, he forced her to look up at

her breath,

lips, his voice low and gravelly, enticing