Adrian Hawthorne’s movements didn’t stop at her words.
The scorching heat of his palm and fingers pressed against the smooth, fair skin of her waist!
Despite the burning heat, it made Leah Sterling shiver.
“You didn’t?
If you hadn’t said anything, how would she know I haven’t touched you in five years?
Since you’re so desperate for it, I’ll satisfy you right now…”
Adrian’s voice fell by her ear, carrying a cold smile.
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head, chilling Leah to the bone.
Drawing on some unknown strength, she violently shoved him away!
The momentum sent her staggering backward, her lower back crashing hard against the shoe cabinet by the wall.
BANG!
The impact made her vision go black with pain.
Seeing her face pale from the agony, Adrian frowned and reached out to her.
Leah sharply dodged to the side, the sudden movement triggering another flare of intense pain where she had just hit the cabinet.
Taking a deep breath to endure it, she shot back, “What else was I supposed to do?
Let the doctor perform unnecessary pre-egg retrieval exams on me?!”
“…What?” Adrian’s brow furrowed slightly.
“What exam did you just say?”
“Ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.” Leah let out a self-deprecating laugh.
“Then again, I suppose I shouldn’t expect her to tell you the truth.”
If Julia Jules had told Adrian the whole truth, Leah wouldn’t have had to suffer through this ordeal in the first place.
Cold sweat broke out on her back from the pain.
Gritting her teeth, she stood up straight.
“Since you’re not here to discuss the divorce, we’ll schedule the paperwork for another time.
I’m leaving.”
Leah straightened her shirt, which he had pushed up.
The purplish-red bruise forming on her lower back peeked out as she moved.
Watching Leah’s hasty retreat, Adrian dialed Robert Rhodes’s number.
“Where did Leah go this morning?”
Robert was always reliable and efficient.
It didn’t take long for him to reply after the call.
In the message Robert sent, the words ‘Assisted Reproductive Medicine Center’ pierced Adrian’s eyes.
When Leah returned home and opened the door, a barrage of confetti and gold foil exploded right in her face.
“Congratulations on being single again!
Happy divorce!” Charlotte Quinn cheered joyfully.
Anyone who didn’t know better would think Leah was a triumphant general returning from war.
She raised a hand and picked a piece of confetti off her cheek.
“What’s wrong, Leah?” Noticing her pale expression, Charlotte dropped her smile.
Looking a bit guilty, she pulled Leah into a hug.
“I’m sorry, Leah.
I thought you wouldn’t be too upset about the divorce.”
Her best friend’s embrace was warm, and Leah’s terrible mood gradually eased.
“I wouldn’t be that upset over a divorce…” Before she could finish, Charlotte’s tight hug pressed against the bruise on her waist, sending a sharp jolt of pain through her.
She gasped, sucking in a breath of cold air.
“What happened?” Startled, Charlotte bent down and lifted the hem of her shirt.
Her face instantly changed, and she gritted her teeth.
“Adrian Hawthorne dared to hit you?!”
Charlotte was usually willing to suck up to whoever paid her.
After securing a contract with the Hawthorne Group, she had wanted nothing more than to cling tightly to her wealthy client’s thigh.
But when it came to Leah, she threw caution to the wind and immediately cursed out the esteemed client.
“That bastard Hawthorne!
Why doesn’t he just drop dead?!”
“I bumped into something,” Leah said, pulling her shirt back down.
Charlotte’s imagination immediately ran wild.
“He pushed you?!
I hope he dies a thousand times!
You got divorced and he actually laid his hands on you?!”
“We didn’t get divorced,” Leah said softly.
“What?” Charlotte’s eyes went wide.
“Then what did you do all day?
You weren’t just slacking off to avoid coming to work, were you?” she asked suspiciously.
When Charlotte had first started her business, she was short on funds.
Leah had used her own bride price money to support her friend’s venture.
Originally, she had only planned to take some dividends from her shares.
But Charlotte had insisted on giving her a cushy position as vice president, forcing her to come into the office.
She always said that a woman needed her own career so she wouldn’t be looked down upon by her in-laws.
She wasn’t wrong, but the logic didn’t apply to Leah’s situation.
Let alone a cushy vice president role, even if Charlotte gave her the entire company, it would still be nothing more than a drop in the bucket in the eyes of the Hawthorne Family.
However, Charlotte was right about one thing: she still needed to have her own work and career.
Not so her in-laws would respect her, but purely so she could do justice to her own life.
“It’s not that I was slacking off, but I don’t think I’ll be going to the office anymore.
I went to see an exhibition of Old Master Bell’s work a couple of days ago.” Leah smiled.
“You were right before; I need to seriously reconsider my future.
I’ve thought about it, and I still want to make pottery.”
“Do it, do it!” Charlotte knew that if Leah hadn’t given up her passion for marriage, she would have likely made a name for herself by now.
“Do you want me to go with you to grovel and beg for Master Bell’s forgiveness?
I’ve sucked up to so many corporate clients these past few years, I’m an expert at getting on my knees.”
Leah shot her a look.
“No need.
If there’s any kneeling to be done, I have to do it myself.
I have a plan.”
“What plan?
How to grovel with the perfect amount of force and rhythm?” Charlotte truly had no filter when she wanted to be cheeky.
Leah didn’t tell Charlotte her plan, but she knew that after disappointing her master so deeply back then, she had to produce some real results and decent work.
Let alone whether Old Master Bell would forgive her, Leah wouldn’t even be able to forgive herself.
Charlotte had booked a table at a bar and dragged her along.
Leah wasn’t really in the mood, but her friend was nothing if not persuasive.
“I booked this spot to celebrate your successful divorce and your new life as a rich single woman.
Since you didn’t get divorced, we shouldn’t let it go to waste.
Let’s go have a drink.
“It’s a really high-end bar!
Members only.
If I hadn’t gotten close to an old client and borrowed their VIP card, I wouldn’t have even been able to get a reservation!
“Besides, didn’t you bruise your waist?
Drinking some alcohol will improve your blood circulation and help heal the bruise!
Let’s go, let’s go!”
What kind of twisted logic was that?
Left with no other choice, Leah agreed.
Fortunately, after the initial bout of intense pain, the injury on her waist had either gone numb or just didn’t hurt as much anymore.
It was a lot like her relationship with Adrian.
It wasn’t that Leah hadn’t held expectations, nor was it that she hadn’t felt heartache.
It was just that now, all those feelings had grown numb and blurry.
Even when she recalled the pain she used to feel, it seemed she could only remember its vague outline.
When they arrived at the bar, Leah’s heart skipped a beat.
She had only heard Charlotte mention it was a high-end bar and hadn’t asked for the name, never expecting it to be Night River.
Adrian and his friends loved coming to Night River.
Leah had had the privilege of coming here a few times herself—summoned by a single phone call to act as a designated driver and take Adrian home.
“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked when she saw Leah suddenly stop in her tracks.
Leah had hesitated for a moment, thinking it would inevitably be awkward if she ran into any of Adrian’s friends from Corvin’s rich kid circle.
But she quickly mocked herself for the thought.
What was there to be embarrassed about?
She hadn’t felt awkward back when Adrian treated her like a lowly driver, at his beck and call.
Why should she feel awkward now?
“It’s nothing,” Leah shook her head and followed Charlotte into Night River.
High-end bars truly were on another level; even the waiters were all handsome men standing over six feet tall.
Charlotte was having the time of her life.
Holding her drink, she squinted as she scoped out the various attractive men in the room and made a bold declaration, “Before I die, I swear I’m going to sleep with a hundred male models!”
The ceiling at Night River was extremely high, and the second floor featured a loft-style design.
One entire wall was constructed from irregular pieces of glass pieced together.
From the booths on the second floor near that wall, one had a clear view of the ground floor.
Silas Sinclair stood there, watching the crowd below for a moment.
“Uh, Adrian, I think I just saw your wife.”