Sir Your Wife Already Signed the Divorce Paper

years

Chapter 167 Her First Man

As soon as Troy thought about the possibility that it might be true, he was quickly caught up in a whirling vortex of emotion.

Veins pulsed on his forehead as he gritted his teeth, struggling to stop himself from losing his temper.

He and Imogen couldn’t have a child together.

Yet, she had a child with another man!

He thought, “Who is that man? Was he her first man? He actually let Imogen give birth alone and didn’t take responsibility for her? If I know who he is, I swear I will tear that person into shreds!” Then, he recalled Imogen’s wish to go abroad with Liam all along, so he wondered if that man could be Liam.

He thought, “Do they have a home together abroad? Have they been together since she was in her junior year?”

Flames of anger flared in the corners of his heart, its flames burning more fiercely with each. passing moment, almost consuming Troy’s sanity.

All the while, Lane leaned against the wall outside the ward, as still as a statue, quietly perking up his gars to listen carefully.

There was no sound coming from the ward.

It was as if there was no one inside.

Lane thought to himself, “Mr. Marshall must be very sad right now, silently reminiscing about the past, licking the wounds in his heart, and digesting all the bitterness.”

“Bang!”

Suddenly, a deafening noise echoed from the ward, causing Lane to shudder.

Following that came a series of crashing sounds.

If one listened closely, one would be able to distinguish the thud made by a table being overturned, the friction of a sofa being moved, the sharp and piercing sound of glass shattering, and the clang of something dropping to the floor…

Lane cringed in fright, thankful that he had come out.

He could vividly imagine Troy kicking over a table in a fit of

rage.

The ward fell into silence once again following that cacophony of noises.

After what felt like an eternity, a hoarse voice finally came from inside, “You can go back now.”

The voice sounded relatively calm, but with careful listening, one could detect a hint of weariness and bitterness beneath the surface.

Lane glanced at his phone. It was already eleven at night.

Given the situation, he figured Troy wouldn’t be getting any sleep at all.

Lane arrived at the hospital ward early the next morning.

Upon entering, a heavy smell of cigarette smoke filled the air, so thick that it was suffocating.

The room was in complete disarray, with the table overturned, the sofa moved, and everything scattered on the floor.

Troy sat on the armchair, leaning against the backrest. His legs were crossed, his arms rested on

the armrests, and his eyes, which were tightly shut, had dark circles underneath.

It seemed that he was in the same position when Troy left the day before.

The floor in front of him was covered in a thick layer of cigarette ash.

Cigarette butts were strewn everywhere, too numerous to count.

Lane sighed and walked to the window across the room, opening it to let in fresh air.

few seconds of silence, he approached Troy slowly. “Mr. Marshall, would you like to change to another ward? I can have

hoarse voice as if there was

up the idea of leaving the hospital anymore, Lane

worried that if Troy insisted on leaving in his current

really felt

dealing with the aftermath of the car

surveillance footage.

sustained such serious injuries only to find out about that kind

be quite

to Troy, “Mr. Marshall, you can go to

“Sure.”

slowly opened his eyes.

water in a bottomless pit, while his eyes were

even more pronounced. His brows were twisted into a deep frown as he exuded a fierce aura that was filled with resentment.

straight to the neighboring ward. Lane followed closely behind, pouring him a glass of water before placing it on the table in front of Troy and asking, “Mr.

after learning this news, Troy

sat down on the sofa, crossing his long legs, lazily leaning against the backrest. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, revealing the

wrist.

the glass of water and took a sip, his voice deep as he ordered, “Find someone to investigate what happened during Imogen’s third year of studying abroad. Make it as

entire night, he finally managed to calm down and comb through everything, pin–pointing several inconsistencies in it.

of from the beginning. It was obviously Imogen’s

should have had

Imogen had really given birth before, her child

disregard the child’s existence, or did she have some connection with him?” He wondered.

certain that during the three years of their marriage, Imogen hadn’t returned to the city where

the child probably had nothing to do with

they hadn’t even recognized

her fondness for Liam, if they had a child together, she would

she wouldn’t abandon the

that Imogen had thought about divorcing

own.

that was left was the question of who

wanted

way too suspicious, and Troy

of the matter before he could lay his worries to rest.

“Understood,” Lane answered.

possible!” Troy urged in a

“I will.”

the hotel, Imogen and her companions, guided

layer of snow on the ground. However, that didn’t dampen their

was Karl Johans Gate.

be the busiest shopping street

stood, housing a variety of shops, including restaurants, cafeterias, shopping malls, and numerous luxury brand stores like LV, Chanel, and Hermes, among others, which reminded them somewhat of

and the three of them strolled

her pockets, stepping on the thick snow, occasionally glancing around, her

like a tourist

was the most active among them, constantly using her phone’s camera to capture the scenery along the

tax refund rate there was quite high, making luxury shopping very

bring them back to give to his parents, relatives, and other friends. “Hey, could one of you take a picture of me?”

A Younger Boyfriend

simple and bright, grand and magnificent. The round dome windows were adjacent slender columns, and two sculptures of figures

the shopping bags from Charlie’s hand and pointed to Imogen, saying, “Let Imogen take the picture for you!”

he could tell that Imogen wasn’t very enthusiastic. Thus,

refuse, Charlie handed her the phone. Imogen reluctantly found an angle and

“Wow! This is

some skills. Maybe you should

Imogen furrowed her brows.

our exclusive photographer! Don’t refuse. You’re here for a vacation and not taking photos? Then be our photographer!”

right,” Imogen

she should indeed distract herself

local restaurant based on various guides that Charlie had looked up,

restaurant was mainly filled with foreigners, and the waitstaff could speak a few phrases in

side dishes, the three