She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 233: They Aren’t Living in the Same Room

The rhythmic and clear sound of knocking startled Tanner and Iker in the living room.

Tanner was pouring tea for Iker when he heard the knocking sound. He paused for seconds before continuing his action, causing tea to overflow from the pot into the cup and onto the white marble table, almost soaking through the newspapers placed on top.

“The water is full,” Iker said disdainfully as he glanced at Tanner out of the corner of his eye while reading a book.

Upon hearing Iker’s reminder, Tanner turned around and quickly walked to open the door to see who it was. In front of him stood a man wearing a white shirt with a light blue suit jacket paired with off-white pants that gave off a casual vibe. His captivating eyes were tinged with fatigue as he held several transparent plastic bags filled with steaming food.

When Omari saw Tanner, anger flashed across his eyes. “Who are you?”

Tanner couldn’t help but be surprised by Omari’s reaction. “Didn’t we meet last time? Oh… Mr. Lara, right? Just call me Tanner. Were you looking for Miss Lawrence?” Omari tried to recall if he had ever met this person before but couldn’t remember seeing him anywhere. “Why are you here? Where is Cheyenne? I need to find her…”

Before Omari could finish speaking, a clear voice suddenly sounded in his ear, the words spoken were ambiguous enough to make one imagine things.

“She was tired last night and is still sleeping now. Please keep your voice down.”

Sitting elegantly in his wheelchair, the man wore loose black V-neck pajamas paired with matching pants, and dark blue slippers on feet. This home outfit didn’t match well with his cold temperament. His sleepwear looked ordinary both in quality and style. It seemed like something bought hastily just so he could have something comfortable enough to wear at home.

Iker’s teacup still emitted steam which obscured part of his face. His every move exuded gracefulness and composure.

it couldn’t be. Cheyenne wasn’t a playgirl. “Master Iker,

Iker in a cold voice, with a chill in his eyes

at a young age, having truly experienced the cruel battles and witnessed many grand scenes. Omari’s sharp eyes were not enough to make him feel afraid. With a calm expression, he picked

as if a sudden storm had surged in his heart,

collar, the terrifying gaze seeming to want to devour him. The pupils shrank

stay with Cheyenne

Why?

but Iker, who had only

forward to stop the two from fighting as they were about

had a disability in his legs, he hadn’t given up on exercising his body for the past three years. Coupled with a good foundation,

threw it to the foot of her bed. She opened her bleary

she called Kelvin last night, but somehow fell asleep and didn’t

the desktop, she found

she got out of bed and stepped into her favorite fluffy white bunny slippers. She was wearing a peach-colored sleep dress with her long

curls cascaded over the fair and round shoulders, revealing a delicate and sexy collarbone. The white nightgown fell just above

circles under her eyes were particularly striking, and the

You’re making a fuss so early in the

hoarse, with a hint of

were filled with surprise and affection at the sight of

the tension between the two men. She walked from the staircase to the living room, plopped down on the sofa, and glanced at all of the breakfast food spread out on the table with

resist temptation any longer, Cheyenne reached