She Became Rich After Divorce
Chapter 338: He'S The One Sending You To Hell

Chapter 338: He's the One Sending You to Hell

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, the scene becoming eternal. The dim light in the corridor cast a soft glow on her fair face, adding a touch of gentleness. Her eyes remained calm, with a hint of disdain as she looked at him, lips parting lightly, "I'm leaving."

But as she took a step, Kelvin grabbed her and pulled her back. Cheyenne retreated two steps, finally pressed against the wall by him.

His towering figure surrounded her like a mountain, casting a shadow that blocked most of the light. His handsome face, akin to a deity, displayed both brightness and darkness. His deep-set eyes stared at her pouty face, and he asked in a low voice, "Are you angry?"

"Shouldn't I be angry?" She raised her face defiantly, despite losing in height, and glared back at him.

Kelvin, seeming puzzled, furrowed his brows. "Because she slept in your room without permission? I didn't know. Abbie has a different room."

Cheyenne, indifferent, mocked with a cold smile when she heard he mentioned Abbie had another room here. "Mr. Foley, you're being overly concerned. I don't care about Miss Berry and you. As for that room, I'm well aware. We're divorced, and it's your house; she can sleep wherever she likes."

"I'm angry because you wealthy people treat others so casually, with no dignity. And you, you make me feel indifferent. Regarding this matter, I've had firsthand experience, no need for explanations; I won't listen."

Her rosy and charming lips, tempting like cherries, uttered a string of words that fueled his anger. She claimed she wasn't angry because of Abbie, as she didn't care about him. She accused him of being indifferent.

Kelvin didn't want to help the maid simply because he thought she might commit more wrongdoings for personal gain. He didn't appreciate Cheyenne unjustly accusing him.

Noble as Kelvin was, he usually disdained explaining himself, especially to a woman. But he spoke now.

His voice, slightly cold, a bit faster than usual, and with a hint of urgency, betrayed a sense of grievance. If Cheyenne listened carefully, she could detect the subtle hint of hurt in his words. "Grandpa said that room has always been yours, and I haven't touched it. Abbie's room is because she just returned and hasn't bought a house yet."

"I haven't been there!"

Not even once!

Cheyenne hadn't expected him to explain so seriously. Her eyebrows lightly lifted, and her pouting face finally softened.

Avoiding his gaze, she looked elsewhere. "Mr. Foley, you can tell Grandpa that the room doesn't need to be reserved. After he recovers, I won't set foot in here again!"

She smiled lightly, her tone decisive.

Kelvin's mind was in turmoil for a second, the words she had just said echoing in his mind. After Grandpa recovered, she wouldn't come here again.

This room held the only trace of Cheyenne's existence in his life. Despite her tidying up and the previous organization, the trace had faded. With time, it would continue to fade. He felt as if his heart was slowly slipping away, like sand through an hourglass. Once the sand ran out, it would turn into emptiness, leaving nothing behind.

A sandglass could be turned over to start anew. But what about him and Cheyenne? Start over! These words pressed heavily on Kelvin's heart, settling the drifting strings of his heart somewhat. He had figured out a lot.

Yes, start anew!

He never understood why he unconsciously looked at Cheyenne when she was with other men, the strange thoughts in his mind. Over the five years she was by his side, her presence had seeped into his life, into his soul. Even though she deliberately tried not to care about her, persuading herself not to be sentimental, he still did many things for her that were originally impossible.

He abandoned contracts to accompany her to release lanterns, sacrificed sleep to pick up a paintbrush he had sworn never to touch again, and had a wardrobe full of clothes designed especially for her, matching her temperament and his preferences.

It wasn't as simple as he said aloud, "Just don't want to lose face when I'm with you."

Grandpa was right; he did care about Cheyenne!

After the emotional surge, his regularly beating heart began to pound incessantly.

His entire body's blood boiled at the moment he smelled her fragrance, and Kelvin's gaze turned fierce, like a wild wolf in the jungle.

Cheyenne, on the other hand, felt uneasy under his intense scrutiny, her face turning red.

What's with this man's gaze?

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Moreover, their current posture was quite intimate. In the past, when she wanted to be closer to him, she had naturally made even more overtly provocative moves, including hugging him from behind, sitting on his lap when he wasn't paying attention, stealing kisses on his face...

Without a doubt, every time she was shrugged off.

Now, as Kelvin took a step toward her, it was Cheyenne's turn to feel uneasy.

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Just as she was about to slip away from the gap between Kelvin and herself, he reached out, urgently pulling her waist close and taking a step forward.

The distance between them suddenly closed, and the cool scent of his shower gel filled her senses. Cheyenne's face uncontrollably turned red. Her aloofness crumbled in this moment, even though her mind was urging her to stay away from this man.

Yet, having loved him for eight years and having had countless intimate encounters with him, her body retained memories belonging to him. Kelvin's touch, like a switch, gently pressed, opening the door to her body's memories.

Heat!

Blood surged fiercely.

A mix of anger and shame churned in her heart. Cheyenne hated herself for being so weak, wondering why she still acted like an innocent girl in front of him.

"Cheyenne, be sensible. This is the man who's leading you to hell!"

She bit down hard on her red lip, not even aware of the faint taste of blood spreading in her mouth. Seeing her stubborn demeanor, Kelvin lowered his head, capturing her lips, kissing them gently, and forcefully prying open her clenched teeth.

He murmured with a hint of pity, "You're bleeding; stop biting."

"I'll feel sorry for you."

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