After divorce I am a billionaire

Lyra and Malcolm smiled at each other and looked at each other with love in their eyes.

"They are all here to visit the museum. Do you want to go over and talk? Get acquainted for a few minutes?" Lyra asked with a smile.

Malcolm looked across the exhibition hall, "Since Mr. Hoare is also enjoying with his girlfriend, he must not want us to disturb them. Or should we wait until they finish browsing that exhibition area and then go over?" Lyra nodded her head in agreement.

She didn't like socializing, let alone interrupting their sweet tbecause of it.

She thought Mr. Hoare and Anne didn't like it as well, so it was better not to disturb them.

A brief interlude did not stop the two from visiting the Great Museum.

Lyra and Malcolm waited for Paul Hoare and Anne in front of them to finish each tbefore moving on to the next show.

Strolling around, this was the largest museum exhibition in Atria, and the afternoon of fun passed quickly.

By the tthe two emerged from the museum, the sun almost went down with glow.

It was getting dark.

Lyra's eyes moved down from the sky and she saw that someone was asking Paul to get in the car and take him back to the hotel.

His little girlfriend, Anne, was the first to get into the car.

Form Lyra's direction, she could only see her slender legs with a pair of diamond white high heels. That woman should be an elegant and gentle young girl.

Instead of rushing to the car, Paul turned back and seemed to notice Lyra and Malcolm who were standing in front of the museum.

Paul was in his forty-something, bearded, yet still handsome. He nodded politely toward Malcolm.

Malcolm also nodded in response.

Lyra saw the two men's action and asked curiously, "Another friend you know?" Malcolm stared at Paul's limousine as it drove away from the museum and said in a tone that didn't rise and fall, "Not really friends, just acquaintances.” Lyra was not interested in this Paul for the moment and did not ask more questions. After a casual reply, she pulled Malcolm into the car.

Back at the hotel, Lyra fell into bed.

After walking around the museum all afternoon, she was so tired that her feet hurt.

Malcolm squatted at her feet, picked up her delicate feet, and tenderly massaged her feet skillfully and dotingly.

Lyra looked at his serious handsface, smiled and asked, "Why so laborious? How about find a massage shop? Then we both can have a SPA?" Malcolm rarely did not laugh, looking up at her very seriously, "For my wife's feet, and any part of her body, no one else can touch. Whoever accidentally touch it, | will cut off their hands." This was a clear declaration of sovereignty. He stamped Lyra's body with the private label that was belonging to Malcolm.

Lyra raised her eyebrows, smiled wickedly, and said deliberately, "Then what would you do if it iswho take the initiative to touch another man?" Malcolm stopped rubbing her feet and stared at her with slightly red eyes.

"If that is the case, it must also be that | have made you angry. And | am not attractive enough to you to make you have the desire to touch other men. | will reflect on it. | will kneel on the wash board. And | will take my life to get back your love." Lyra's heart pumped and she stroked his handsface with pity.

"Mel, we are equal. You don't need to be so humble." She took his face in her hands and said seriously, "I will never change my mind. | will never touch another man. | only love you." Malcolm wrapped his arms around her waist with satisfaction and flung her down on the bed, "It's our honeymoon but you're asking emotionally damaging questions. Shouldn't you be punished?" Lyra kissed his chin, "I'm the one who's wrong. How do you want to punish me?" Malcolm's hand was pinching gently toward her slender waist, and he said, "What do you think | like best?" He said so and tilted down, giving her pervasive kisses with a strong sense of possessiveness.

The sun had completely set and darkness was gradually sweeping over the land.

There were no lights on in the presidential suite.

All the sweetness was concealed in the hazy darkness.

Lyra didn't resist throughout, thinking that she'd get over it once and be done with it.

But little did she knew that this was only the first of many sexual encounters tonight.

The night was long, yet wonderful.

Because of the tdifference, it was night in Atria but daytin Crana.

Keith cto the series crew to supervise the filming of the first scene after Melissa recovered from her illness because he was worried about the situation.

The shooting didn't require high acting skills, but despite this, Melissa was asked to re-act for numerous times.

Her memory was regressed and backed to four years ago, forgetting all the experience she once had in the acting world. And when facing the camera, she looked like a young newcomer.

With Keith's personal presence in the entertainment industry, the director dared not speak out, and had to patiently repeat over and over again, and personally discussed with Melissa about the scene.

Melissa was so nervous that she clenched her fingers tightly around the hem of her skirt, feeling disappointed and disillusioned with herself.

Keith's sharp eyes noticed the tiredness on her face, called a halt to the shooting, brought Melissa to sit in front of him, and tenderly took a wet towel to wipe the thin sweat on her forehead.

"Thanks Mr. Lloyd. I'll do it myself." It was polite and detached.

Keith's fingers stiffened slightly and, curbing the pain in his heart, he handed her the wipes.

"How was the shooting for a few hours? Is there a feeling of getting into character status?" Melissa sighed and shook her head, falling into a bit of self-doubt.

"ls it true that ... | am a star who has won the best actress award?" Keith nodded, "Yes, your trophy still sits in my villa to this day. You've seen it." Melissa's expression was complicated and frustrated.

"Then why don't | have any impression at all? By definition, having done so many scenes, | should be able to habitually act with my acting skills, but | really ... can't do it at all." She could see that after hours of acting, none of them could pass, and the director was desperate, but just didn't dare to scold her because of Keith.

She blamed herself, but didn't know what to do.

Keith took the trouble to remind her, "There really is no lie. These were once honors you worked hard to get. But Melissa, you don't have to be discouraged. You're just sick, and when you recover in the future, you'll be able to remember them all.” "Really?" Melissa was a little unsure, "Do | really have a chance of getting well?" Keith froze, lowered his eyelids, and nodded.

But in fact, Jimmy said before that Melissa's nerves were damaged and he was afraid it would be difficult to repair them.

He patted her arm soothingly, "Even if you can't even remember, it doesn't matter. You'll always be my fiancee, and I'll only write your non my future marriage license." "It doesn't matter if you forget me. | just wish you would stop rejecting me, deliberately ignoring me, refusingto cnear you. Givea chance to start from scratch with you." Melissa hung her head and froze for a while before nodding woodenly but absentmindedly, as if she wasn't listening carefully to Keith's words.

"That ... Mr. Lloyd, | really seem to have no acting skills at all. I'm very confused facing the camera. Maybe forgetting the things of these four years means that my fate is trying to givea chance to start over. | want to choose again, can I?" Keith's fingertips trembled as he forced his innermost fear to ask, "What do you want to re-choose?" Did she want to choose whether she wanted to stay with him or not? Did she want to be his fiancee? Did she want to walk into the wedding hall with him in the future? His eyes were red. He clenched his hands uneasily and waited for Melissa's answer.

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