Too Late, Ex-Husband: My Tycoon Protector

the door to her apartment. The first thing that hit her was t

nt to the l

He was slumped on the white leather sofa, his suit jacket discarded on the floor,

his eyes bloodshot and wild. He sta

thick with alcohol and rage. "The gue

ofa towards the kitchen bar. Her throat

k away from me

lass from her hand just as she reached for it and hurled it against

her dress. She took a deliberate step back,

rs. "You humiliated me in front of my own family! What was

care about your attention?" she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "You runn

the edge. His face contorted into an ugly mas

"You complain that I don't touch you? Fine. Tonight, I'll be

is body pressed against hers, heavy and suffocating. His hands fu

ly consumed by a white-hot rage. She struggled, twisting in his grasp

isgust of it gave her a surge of adrenaline. Her free hand flailed on the counter

rble a

vements were cold, precise. She swung it, hard, against

sickening,

lutching his hand. It was already swelli

e bar. Fueled by five years of repressed anger and humiliation,

cheek. The crack of the slap echo

orner of his mouth. He stared at her, his drunken rage momentarily repl

e smoothed down her torn dress, her eyes b

fury. She pointed a shaking finger towards the door.

ng me?" he spat, dabbing at his lip. "You have nothing! You ar

and stormed towards the door, shoutin

d reverberating through the apa

r body trembling uncontrollably. She looked at her hands. They were shaking, but not from fe

an to ring, its cheerful tone a jarring cont

osing herself. She walked over and p

friend. H

voice still a li

tement. "You are not going to believe this. I just got

ack onto the so

her-in-law has been trying to push through for the last year? They were just frozen. An hour ago. A major play

across Courtney's

romises. He delivered. Swiftl

he single word filled wi

l you have to sa

hit Jordan with an ashtray and t

the other end of the line, foll

I'm opening a bottle of Veuve Clicquot ri

he silent, opulent apartment. It wasn't a home

r reflection stared back at her-a woman with a torn dress, a fi

just the