After divorce I am a billionaire

Malcolm stared at her resentfully, "I didn't take any drugs, but | feel like | need to reflect on it. Why do you play games with other women after dinner, and leaveto sleep alone on the empty bed?" "Huh?" Lyra stared at him strangely.

What was sleeping alone in the empty bed? Was she not a human being? After wording, she chose to coax him, "Didn't we promise not to have sex tonight? | can't even play games?" Malcolm glanced at her phone screen. Her teammates were already in a daze because of Lyra's stalling and asked her with many question marks.

"I didn't say | had to have a sex, but...playing games doesn't conflict with being with me. The gmaster is right next to you, but you're playing games with Keith's fiancee. Do you think it's reasonable?" Lyra heard the sound of her teammates signaling her in the game, and casually made "hmm", lowered her eyes and continued to operate.

Malcolm sighed heavily, and moved the washboard in front of Lyra, and placed it in the most conspicuous position, which could be seen by her and it was impossible to ignore it.

He said sadly, "It's all my problem. If you don't want to accompany me, | will kneel on the washboard for as long as you play the game." "Hey, don't." Lyra stretched out her hand and rested her palm on the edge of the washboard, preventing Malcolm from kneeling on his knees.

Facing Malcolm's unreasonable and dissatisfied behavior, she coaxed him and compromised, "Then | won't play with Melissa after this one. I'll let you play withand | will help you. How about it? " Malcolm knew when to stopped. Completing the gthat had already started was the bottom line.

"Okay, I'll wait for you." Lyra pointed at the washboard, "Put this thing back in the closet quickly. Don't take it out and threaten me." Malcolm didn't want to be served on his knees by this thing, so he resolutely threw it back into the closet without holding back.

He sat behind Lyra, wrapped around her waist, and quietly watched her finish the game.

Accompanied by the voice of the gwinning again, Lyra typed quickly and told Melissa that she could not continue playing games, and asked Melissa to go to bed earlier.

Malcolm got his wish and replaced the position of Melissa.

After a few minutes, he received a What'smessage.

It was Keith.

In the message box, there was only one simple word.

[Master.] Malcolm smiled wickedly and replied decisively: [My disciple.] Regardless of whether Keith was furious when he saw the message, Malcolm had already turned off the box and focused on playing games with his wife.

The night was beautiful for Lyre Spiti.

For Travis who was in the detention room of NIB, it was painful.

Until the evening, Luca's group refused to allow him to drink a single sip of the water delivered by the police officers.

They even disliked the bloody smell on his body and put him in the toilet to sleep.

Travis wished he fainted on the spot, so that he could be sent to the medical room for treatment, and at least he could breathe.

However, none of these injuries on his body hit the key points. They were very painful but not fatal at all. His mind was very clear, and he could only be forced to endure the severe pains on his body.

The originally expensive gold-rimmed glasses were shattered by Luca. His eyes were originally highly short-sighted, and when he couldn't see clearly, the fear in his heart increased a bit.

The stench of the toilet was overwhelming, challenging his limit on odors.

Under such circumstances, he couldn't sleep at all, and he felt painful even when breathing.

He can only curl up in the corner of the toilet and keep the farthest distance from the dirty and smelly toilet.

His hands tightly covered his mouth and nose. Although his body was in pain, he did not dare to make a sound, for fear that he would be severely beaten by Luca again.

He had never been so miserable and embarrassed before, but now he was bullied by Luca and this group of hooligans, and he wanted to cry and felt aggrieved.

He suddenly regretted that he had listened to Paul's provocation, and tried to take advantage of Malcolm's absence on a business trip to let his grandfather eat incompatible food and seize power in the clan.

If he didn't do this, Malcolm wouldn't arrest him, right? He can continue to stay at hand live his affluent life.

No, no, Malcolm was not a good person at all, and he will not let him go off.

Only by attacking first will he and his father have the opportunity to turn over in the White family and get the right to call the shots.

All of this, the question was why Malcolm cback so timely on the day of his grandfather's accident, and why he didn't get it sooner? Malcolm must die, must die!! He was shaking, but his aching skin was tight, and every pore on his body was screaming hatred.

It was the anger of wanting to smash Malcolm to pieces.

He couldn't sleep at night because of his hatred, and Ryan, who was in the single room, couldn't sleep either.

Fortunately, Ryan didn't do anything serious. Malcolm just locked him up and didn't let him run around, and didn't make the police embarrass him.

With Ryan's back against the wall, there was a small ventilation window at the top, and the faint moonlight outside could shine through the cell.

Did Travis successfully escape from the country? Did Malcolm believe his words? Why Malcolm locked him in for two days and didn't want to see him? Did the old man tell Malcolm the truth? No, it was impossible. He won't say it and was stubborn.

Ryan leaned against the wall alone. His old and turbid eyes narrowed slightly, and a lot of problems made him unable to close his eyes and sleep at all.

He was sipping a cigarette, exhaling from tto time, and the taste in his mouth was bitter.

Perhaps, tomorrow he should find a chance to talk to Malcolm.

They slept till morning.

Birds squeaked in the garden, and the sun shone through the thin curtains into the master bedroom of Lyre Spiti.

Lyra woke up comfortably and found herself on Malcolm's arm.

There was no fatigue after the onset.

Being surprised and unbelievable, she lightly tapped Malcolm's nose to wake Malcolm from his sleep.

"Honey, did | get sick last night?" Malcolm's long eyelashes trembled slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes. There was still a mist in his black pupils, and he was obviously still sleepy.

He whispered in a daze, "I'm so sleepy. | can't wake up until you kiss me." Lyra stared at him who asked for a kiss in the morning. Not only did she not kiss him, but she flicked it on his forehead.

"I'm serious. It's useless to act like a spoiled child.” "Hiss..." Malcolm raised his eyebrows, rubbed his forehead, and there was a sense of resentment all over his body.

Because he wasn't kissed by his wife, he was hurtful and felt a little upset.

"You bully me." In the next second, he turned into a wolf, turned over decisively and threw Lyra down, holding her tightly in his arms, "If you refuse to kiss me, then | will ask for compensation myself." He lowered his thin lips and swept Lyra with an overwhelming kiss, as if he wanted to put his own mark on her body domineeringly, just like a beast who was marking its territory, and no one was allowed to occupy it.

Lyra was so dizzy with the kiss, and the sweet smell around her lingered, making her feel like she was drunk.

She touched Malcolm's forehead and pushed him away, "You're still making trouble. I'm just talking about business." Malcolm knew when to stop, and if he made trouble again, he would anger his wife, so he lay down obediently.

"You didn't get sick last night. | hugged you, and you didn't wake up in the middle until dawn.” This conjecture was confirmed, and Lyra was very happy.

This was a good news.

"Honey, is my mania already cured? We can take Spencer and Molly back from grandpa with confidence."