Chapter 2

On the day of the divorce, the sun was shining brightly.

I met the girl Brandon had described as his soulmate - she was sporty, with a high ponytail, full of energy.

"Sis, you should go out more often. When people get old, they can't keep up with the times and easily get eliminated."

She clung to Brandon's arm, sitting in his passenger seat, looking at me provocatively.

I was barely twenty-five, yet someone was calling me old.

Someone passed by carrying a mirror, and I caught a glimpse of myself.

Delicate features, long black hair, curves in all the right places, long legs - I wasn't inferior to anyone.

On the way home, I tried hard to control my emotions, but tears still kept flowing.

Bang! I crashed into a Rolls-Royce in front of me. I hurriedly got out of the car to apologize.

A pair of long legs stepped out of the car ahead. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, impeccably dressed in a suit, exuding nobility amidst his coldness.

"It's you."

The man broke the awkward silence first.

I was confused for a moment, then suddenly realized who the man in front of me was.

Brandon had mentioned him many times - Bay City's mysterious tycoon, Damian Sinclair, the helmsman of the financial group that Mitchell Corp had always wanted to cooperate with.

"I haven't even asked for compensation yet, and you're crying like this."

Damian Sinclair handed me a handkerchief, his tone surprisingly gentle.

"No, you misunderstand. It's entirely my fault, I'll definitely compensate you.

"I just got divorced, and I'm having trouble controlling my emotions. I'm sorry."

I hurriedly explained, afraid he might think I was trying to shirk responsibility.

"Divorced?" Damian Sinclair asked again.

I nodded.

"That's good."

"What?"

Damian Sinclair's lips curled into a faint smile as he slowly said:

"It's nothing. The weather is nice today, we shouldn't waste time on such trivial matters.

"Miss Bennett, would you mind exchanging contact information? We can talk more later."

I was a bit surprised and didn't recover for a long time.

Brandon had once spent hundreds of thousands but couldn't get Damian Sinclair's phone number or SnapChat. Now it was just lying in my phone.

Several days passed, and Damian Sinclair didn't mention anything about compensation.

Even when I asked proactively, there was no reply from the other side.

A tycoon is a tycoon, probably busier.

Or perhaps he had five SnapChat accounts and didn't check this one often.

The next time I saw Damian Sinclair was after a company drinking party.

I was a bit drunk and bumped into a figure in the hallway.

Damian Sinclair gentlemanly supported me. Under the influence of alcohol, my emotions broke down again, and I cried uncontrollably.

"Mr. Sinclair, this..."

"I have something to attend to, we'll talk next time."

Suddenly my feet left the ground, and I was carried by Damian Sinclair to his car.

The atmosphere became somewhat ambiguous. In the confined space, the pheromones emanating from Damian Sinclair constantly stimulated my nerves.

I had heard many stories about him - how he took over Sinclair Corp at a young age and won the trust of the old guard with his thunderous methods.

["Who else would want you if you divorce me."]

Brandon's words echoed in my mind, painful to the point of suffocation.

Looking at this face in front of me, more noble than Brandon's, I couldn't help but lean closer.

"Ava, you're drunk."

Damian Sinclair's finger pressed against my shoulder, his voice deep.

Maybe it was the alcohol clouding my judgment, or maybe it was my unwillingness to give in.

I boldly shook off his hand and leaned forward.

"Your lips look so soft, I wonder if they're nice to kiss."

At that moment my mind went blank, I don't even remember what Damian Sinclair replied.

I only knew that his breath lingered on the tip of my nose, making my heartstrings tremble.

His lips really were soft, yet full of aggression.

"Open your mouth to breathe~"

I dazedly complied. He cupped the back of my head, like crashing waves.

His fingertips slid down my waist, and I couldn't help but arch my body, pressing against his burning chest.

His warm lips moved down inch by inch.

In the adult world, we both knew what was about to happen.

Damian Sinclair draped his suit Brandonet over my flushed face and carried me into a nearby five-star hotel.