Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

Chapter 522

Everett gently wrapped Selena in her bathrobe and tucked her snugly under the covers. He got out of bed, slipped into his clothes, and stepped out onto the balcony.

The night had quietly faded, leaving a soft glow on the horizon.

The sea breeze billowed through his white shirt, which he had lazily buttoned halfway, revealing a patchwork of scratches across his chest. Some were still fresh and bleeding a testament to the night's wild passions.

Everett lit a cigarette, leaning casually against the railing as the wind whisked away the smoke. He didn't really smoke it, just let it burn out. Once he stubbed it out, his tangled thoughts began to settle.

Turning back inside, he returned to the cabin.

He pulled Selena into his arms and closed his eyes.

Selena slept deeply, waking only when the sun was already high in the sky. Sitting up was a struggle; her body felt as though it had been taken apart and put back together wrong, and her waist and legs were so sore she could hardly straighten them. Yet she felt surprisingly fresh, that man must have taken care of her.

Memories of the previous night's chaos flickered through her mind, stirring a sense of unease and frustration. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted.

She thought she had everything figured out, but she hadn't accounted for Everett's relentless fixation on her. Even after three years and with Margot out of the picture, he still wouldn't let her go.

in Everett's mind,

swung open, and in walked Everett, looking as handsome as ever. Despite the previous night's indulgence, he showed no signs of weariness. Instead, he

Come on, have

with

"Everett, you've gotten what you wanted. When are you going to let me go

glanced out the window earlier and saw they were still out at sea. She'd been gone so long,

her

little Mateo-she worried about what this might be doing to

gaze turned icy with

her cheek, but Selena

a thought striking

her, "Don't tell me, Mr. Everett, you're planning to take me

Vel

you did three

hand lingered in mid-air, his fingers

hit him with a dull

spoke softly, "I whipped up some of your favorite dishes.

through the morning well