Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire

It was a collection of photos and descriptions of deserted islands, each nestled in different spots and boasting its own unique scenery. Selena's eyes widened, her fingers trembling uncontrollably. He was already making plans, ready to ship her off at the drop of a hat...

Had he really grown tired of her so fast, as if she were standing in the way of his romance with Margot?

Everett leaned back, resting his chin on his hand, watching her with a lazy curiosity. "Pick one," he drawled, "whichever you fancy." What did he think he was doing? Was this his twisted way of pretending to respect her wishes? He expected her to choose her own prison before banishing her to a desolate island? It was heartbreakingly cruel.

All she'd done was love the wrong person with the naive heart of youth. What crime was that? Selena couldn't take it anymore. Communicating with him felt impossible; they were on entirely different wavelengths. How could a jerk's thought process resemble that of a sane person? She'd been a fool to expect otherwise!

In a fit of anger, she snatched the documents and hurled them at his face. "Everett, if you're not right in the head, go get help, seriously. I'll even cover the doctor's fee. Don't be too proud to seek treatment!" The papers slipped off his face, scattering across the floor. Everett's lips tightened into a cold, hard line, a shadow darkening his handsome features. His self-control, which he prided himself on, was continually shattered by this defiant woman. He'd exhausted a lifetime's worth of patience on her, yet she remained more challenging than any project he'd tackled. He couldn't comprehend what went on in her mind!Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Driven to a wry laugh by his own

anger, Everett said, "Selena, looks like you've got your strength back." With that, he got up, strode over, grabbed her wrist, swiftly yanked out

her IV and pushed her down onto the bed. Realizing his intentions, Selena fumed. Whenever he was out of arguments, this is how he

resorted to bullying her.

His fingers gripped her chin, forcing her mouth open, and Everett kissed her deeply, invading her space and intertwining with her lips. Only this seemed to ease the burning irritation in his chest, keeping him from genuinely losing his temper with her. Since the facade was already gone, Selena saw no reason to keep pretending. She fought back with all her might-if she couldn't break free, she would scratch, bite, and kick. She hadn't trimmed her nails on purpose, making her scratches sting more. Before long, Everett's neck had three fresh scratch marks, and he tasted a hint of blood in his mouth. Wiping it with the back of his hand, he let out a sudden laugh. This woman was a force to be reckoned with, hardly what you'd expect from someone who'd just fainted from low blood sugar.

Still, the strength difference was

apparent, and Selena slowly found herself at a disadvantage, her hands pinned above her head, tears

brimming in her eyes as she

helplessly endured. Silence fellnet

between them, the quiet bedroom filled only with his heavy breathing and her muffled groans. It felt less like a tender moment between a couple and more like a silent showdown.

Through blurry eyes, Selena gazed at the beautiful patterns on the ceiling, ones she had commissioned a painter to create back when they were newlyweds. They symbolized beautiful hopes, marital bliss, and growing old together. Every time they had held each other and drifted off to sleep, she used to feel so blessed. Now, it all seemed like the cruelest joke.