Sir Your Wife Already Signed the Divorce Paper

Chapter 83 Don’t Make Any Noise

Liam looked indulgently at Imogen and said, “Imogen was my neighbor when we were kids, and she used to cry a lot.”

“Childhood friends? That’s quite a fortunate connection. Let me know if you two have good news.”

“Don’t be joking, Mr. Jones. Imogen and I are just friends,” Liam said.

He understood the situation. Imogen had a boyfriend now.

“I get it. Young people like to label each other as friends,” the deputy director chimed in.

Troy looked up with a frown, and his gaze shifted coolly between Liam and Imogen.

He had already warned her that she and Liam were not a suitable match.

But Imogen hadn’t seemed to pay attention. Did she really like Liam that much?

“Troy? Troy!”

“Hmm? What did you say?” Troy snapped back to attention, looking at Sarah.

Sarah’s eyes darkened. She leaned close to Troy, whispering, “Have you noticed that Imogen and Liam seem very compatible? If you divorce Imogen, it would be good if she could be with Liam.”

Troy shook his head. “No. They’re not suitable.”

“How do you know they’re not suitable?”

“I’ve looked into their work and personalities.”

As Troy and Sarah engaged in their hushed conversation, Imogen felt a twinge of bitterness and lowered her gaze.

The waiters began bringing out dishes one after another, quickly filling the table.

Everyone dug in without hesitation.

Liam offered Imogen Crabcake R�moulade and said, “Try this first.”

“Thank you.”

Imogen took a bite, savoring its texture and unique fragrance. “It’s good.”

After finishing the Crabcake R◆◆moulade, Imogen started sampling other dishes.

Liam was considerate, occasionally picking up food for Imogen.

When Troy saw their interaction, his expression grew darker.

“Troy, could you help me with that dish over there? I can’t reach it,” Sarah said, a hint of hatred flashed across her eyes.

This was the second time she noticed Troy becoming distracted.

“Sure.”

Troy picked up the dish for Sarah and said, “Let me know if you need more.”

He focused on Sarah, refilling her plate when it was almost empty.

couldn’t help but chuckle self

meal, Imogen stood up, saying she needed to use the restroom. The men’s and women’s restrooms were connected, with a shared

Imogen washed her hands

15:06

mirror.

extending his arms to rest on the sink,

his reflection in

something to

the mood to hear him out right now. She put her cosmetics back into her bag and turned

finish, Troy locked her lips with his. His strong hands wrapped around her waist, pressing her against

had come here

been inexplicably drawn

being close to Liam, he felt uncomfortable, like thousands of ants

after he reminded her

her hands against Troy’s chest, trying to push him away. “Hmm… Stop. I should go

frowned, tightening his arms even more. He pressed one hand against her

were swollen, and she was struggling to catch

She glanced at her lips in the mirror. They looked

on her shoulder. He looked at her in the mirror and lightly touched her lips with his fingers. “You look good this

of me. I want to go

back? Go back to being all lovey–dovey with Liam? Imogen,

She wasn’t lovey–dovey with

about Liam and me. What about you

“It’s different.”

“What’s so different? Aren’t

knew you

told Troy that Imogen had come

take Imogen back. Sarah’s call had just given

Imogen’s jaw, tilting her head half a turn, and

along her

grew weak, and she couldn’t help leaning against

Troy suddenly touched dampness.

let go of Imogen’s lips, holding her and leading her into the restroom, finding an

15:06

“Let me please

We can’t…” Imogen

This was absurd.

could they do this in

gave a faint smile.

the stall door. With his hot breath cascading onto

with his

People are waiting in the private room…

“Just let them wait.”

fell silent, closed her eyes, bit her lip, and restrained herself

That moment arrived.

moaned, shuddering throughout her

can go now.” Troy finally

remained leaning against the stall door. Her legs were slightly weak.

against the door to steady herself as

was washing his hands, meticulously cleaning them, while stealing

again in

restroom and returned

asked in confusion, “Why

wasn’t feeling well.” Imogen had