She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 125: Mr. Foley, Your Hand Is Injured

When the whole world is quiet and he is the only one left, all senses are amplified.

Hearing, smell… touch.

He stared at the figure in the mirror, his gaze falling on the shiny lips that still seemed to carry the scent of that woman.

A scent that resembles orchids with an added sweetness of fruit, it keeps him reminiscing repeatedly.

He was not sure if it was his imagination, but the annoying face of Cheyenne appeared again in the mirror.

In the blink of an eye, she transformed into a cute and obedient appearance, smiling as she linked arms with Omari.

The flames of jealousy wrapped around him like a python, and the man’s breathing became rapid and heavy.

Who can tell him how to shake off this giant python? It left his limbs and body in pain

“Cheyenne!”

“Bang!”

Kelvin suddenly raised his hand and punched the mirror fiercely.

“Clang.”

After a loud and violent sound, the mirror shattered from its center position, and the cracks spread outwards in all directions.

After a few seconds, the smooth and calm mirror suddenly became fragmented like a spider web. In the mirror, the man’s face was fragmented into numerous pieces, and what had once been a remarkably handsome countenance now appeared rather sinister.

Soon, a few strands of red blood dripped down onto the white washbasin, only to be diluted and disappear as they were washed away by clear water.

His hand was blurred by blood, with visible fragments embedded in his finger joints. However, he seemed to have no sense of pain as his indifferent gaze paused briefly before turning and leaving the bathroom.

The next day, the luxury car arrived precisely at 7 o’clock and stopped at the entrance of the villa. Chris honked the horn, the sound vibrating and alerting those upstairs. He then rolled down his car window and leisurely pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his suit jacket pocket.

took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and reached for the

his

the taste of nicotine on his

man was wearing a black suit that, with a white shirt underneath. The top button was fastened all the way up; he exuded a cold and noble air

looked over with

startled and choked on his own breath. The bitter and pungent smoke expelled from his

Foley,” he

a nearby flowerbed. Why was Mr. Foley twenty minutes early this

he would be having

and sat in the back seat, his

Yes:

of rustling newspapers.

eyelashes, a faint shade of dark circles was visible, a clear sign of a poor night’s sleep. “Mr. Foley, did you not sleep well

“Mm.”

at the office,

“Sure.”

the workaholic man who was always ready for work have a moment

but wonder if it was because

morning newspaper today, and Mrs. Foley… she had become even

that Mr. Foley was

The thoughts of a superior

were divorced or not, as long as

twenty minutes early, he had enough time to reach the office. So,

that usually took only half an hour ended up taking

the last ten minutes

arrived.

hint of coldness flashed in his eyes.

swallowed all the words he had

in front of him did the chill

we walk,”

car door, Chris finally noticed the white bandage wrapped around Kelvin’s

happened to your

It’s just a small burn.