The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

That gaze was filled with burning emotions—both affectionate and sorrowful.

Asher looked at the man in front of him, his gaze blurring, before sharpening again.

"Are you new here? How much for a night?" Lost in a drunken daze, Arnold smirked like a cunning fox. His slender fingers traced the sharp contours of Asher's face, stroking gently.

"Handsome, I will give you that... but " Arnold's gaze darkened. "Why do you look so much like someone I hate to death?"

A sharp pang seized Asher's chest, but he seized the moment, wrapping an arm around Arnold's waist. His fingers trembled as he pulled him close.

"I'm a newcomer here. Mr. Larson, would you be kind enough to help me hit my performance target?"

Arnold's fox-like eyes shimmered, unfocused, as he stared up at him.

Asher's eyes reddened, his scorching palm pressed firmly against Arnold's waist. His voice, deep and low, carried a promise.

"I swear, I will not disappoint you."

Down below, Yuri clung to the edge of the stage, eavesdropping on the shameless words spilling from Asher's mouth. A shiver ran down his spine.

Yuri thought, 'Is this still The Matrix that I knew? How unbelievably shameless!'

Asher's intoxicating voice and warm breath cascaded down Arnold's neck, causing a tingling sensation that made the latter tremble.

Arnold's vision wavered. Slowly, he recognized the heartbreakingly familiar face before him.

and agony exploded

in Asher's arms, but drunk as he was, his body had turned soft, refusing to cooperate. However, the rage in his bloodshot eyes could not

Arnold another chance to push him

in one fluid movement. Gasps of shock rippled through the room

the taller side among men. Yet in Asher's arms, he was effortlessly carried as though

The Matrix has

door, he paused suddenly, then spun around, only to

he could have sworn someone had been watching from the

...

do

in the back seat of the luxury

drunken beauty thrashed, kicking and flailing. Though intoxicated, Arnold was still

fists and feet landed with enough force that Yuri

remained impossibly tender. Every movement was careful, as if

"Urgh-!"

or maybe the sudden stillness,

Asher, then doubled over, vomiting all over his expensive, custom-made

the disaster unfold live,

obsession. If it were him, he would have

handkerchief, and

considerate! It was

even clung to Arnold, despite such a

for you to