Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

Chapter 372

The next morning, Everett felt the sunlight streaming onto his eyelids, glaring and intrusive. Instinctively, he raised his hand, shielding his eyes from the bright light.

Slowly opening his eyes, he realized he was sprawled on the couch, his hair a tangled mess, clothes in disarray, and fresh, deeper scratches marking his chest and arms. The pounding headache from his hangover hit him late, making him wince as he massaged his temples. Scanning the room, Selena was nowhere in sight. His gaze eventually landed on the wide-open curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and then on a torn nightgown on the floor. A flood of fragmented memories came rushing back, hitting him like a tidal wave. He had stumbled home drunk and had a fight with Selena. Her words were sharp, and in his anger, his responses were even harsher. He remembered pushing her against the window...

She had fought back fiercely at first. But with his judgment clouded by alcohol, he hadn't had the patience to soothe her. If anything, he'd been rough.

Eventually, she had broken down, her beautiful face crumbling. He had kissed her, tasting her sweetness, losing himself in her.

He couldn't recall exactly how many times they had been together, but the lingering satisfaction in his body told him it had been a lot.

Despite not remembering all the details, the image of Selena, voice hoarse from crying and pleading with those dark eyes filled with anger and resentment, replayed in his mind. He had definitely crossed a line this time.

Leaning his head on his hand, Everett couldn't shake off the feeling of regret.

He pulled a jewelry box from his pocket, opened it, and inside was a diamond necklace with a moon-shaped pendant that reminded him of Selena. He had spotted it while inspecting a mall a couple of days ago and had Derick buy it, intending to make amends. But before he could give it to her, he had stirred up trouble again, leaving him feeling inexplicably irritated.

aside, got up, kicked off his pants, and headed to the

as his phone rang. He bent down, picked it up from the coffee table,

came through, "Hey, champ, sleep well? Patch

his voice icy, "Were you the one who brought me back to the villa last

clueless, replied in a chipper tone, "Yeah, no

dry laugh, "Who told you to take

that something was wrong, quickly

me. Whatever happened with your

another degree, "I told you to take me back to the villa,

to do

loss, feeling as if confusion had

at a

Jaime, who could hold his liquor, usually handled it. Everett

enough to be polite, and

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