The Divorcee Amazed the World

Also unable to endure that kind of humiliation, he was a man, a man who couldn’t tolerate any insult.

However, truly letting go was also heart-wrenching.

Quite contradictory.

Willis held the wine glass to his lips, finishing the remaining drink in one go.

The white liquor was pungent, a knife-like sensation slashing down his throat.

It felt stuck below his chest, burning fiercely.

Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed from outside.

Yale called out, “Come in.”

The door opened.

With a melon-seed face and delicate features, Susan entered the room. She wore a white bubble-sleeved chiffon princess top tucked into a tight half-skirt. She adorned a complete set of Cartier jewelry, with a Chanel coat draped over her arm and an Hermès ostrich-skin bag in hand.

It was Susan.

Seeing her, Willis’s eyes cooled slightly. “Why are you here?”

Twisting her slender waist, Susan gracefully walked behind him, her arm resting on the back of his chair. She leaned down, her red lips brushing against his ear as she exhaled a fragrant breath, “Heard that Willis ge is also dining here, so I came to say hello.”

Willis’s ear was tickled by the warmth of her breath, and he shifted slightly to the side, avoiding her. Seeing that she showed no intention of leaving, he spoke without much emotion, “Sit if you want.”Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Thank you, Willis ge.” Susan pulled out a chair, draping her coat over the back.

A waiter promptly set the table for her.

Willis pushed the menu toward her, “Order whatever you want.”

Susan glanced at the table full of dishes, pushed the menu away, and sweetly smiled, “No need to order. I love whatever Willis loves.”

Yale raised his hand to wipe the goosebumps that had risen on his arm.

Susan turned a plate of Arctic sweet shrimp towards herself, looking at Willis with watery eyes, “Willis ge, I want to eat shrimp.”

Yale sneered, “Can’t you peel it yourself?”

Puffing out her cheeks, Susan said with a hint of grievance, “I’ve never peeled shrimp myself. At home, my parents always did it for me. When I used to dine out with Willis, he always peeled them for me.”

She reached out and clasped Willis’s arm, acting coquettishly, her voice sweet and dripping, “Willis ge, I want to eat shrimp peeled by you. Will you do it for me?”

Willis cast a faint glance at her, retracted his arm, put on disposable gloves, and picked up a shrimp from the plate.

For some reason, a scene of Helena peeling shrimp for him flashed in his mind.

Her hands were incredibly skillful, extracting the shrimp meat cleanly while leaving the shell intact.

He had tried several times but couldn’t do it.

After peeling one, he held the shrimp meat and placed it on Susan’s plate.

Suddenly, Susan lowered her body, capturing the shrimp with her mouth, intentionally taking his finger along with it.

Her tongue gently circled around his fingertip, kissing it lightly.

With eyes glistening, she looked at him, her brows and eyes full of affection, a desire evident in her gaze.

Quickly spitting out his finger, she smiled charmingly, gently biting the shrimp meat, and said softly, “The shrimp peeled by Willis ge is delicious.”

Willis’s expression subtly froze, an indescribable feeling settling in.

He removed the disposable gloves and tossed them aside.

Picking up a sterilized towel from the table, he wiped the finger that she had touched.

Yale’s entire body erupted in goosebumps, feeling the urge to slap her. They hadn’t even divorced yet, and she was acting so wanton!

Flirting in front of him, treating him like he was invisible?

Yale grabbed his phone and sent a text to Helena: Sister-in-law, your husband has had too much to drink. He’s acting crazy, completely out of his senses. Come pick him up. We’re at Today’s Drunk, third floor, Wonderland.

Helena was at Kyoto Grand Hotel with her colleagues, receiving the message, she called Yale to get more details.

The phone rang once and was immediately hung up.

Helena dialed Willis’s number, about to ask more about the situation.

Just then, another message from Yale popped up: hurry! Urgent!