Yvette paused.
She was just too angry.
He didn't hurt her, so she knew that calling the police was useless.
Yvette looked at him coldly and asked, "Mr. Wolseley, do you like me?"
This topic suddenly changed.
"Of course." Lance was slightly stunned.
If not, how would he, a busy businessman, have been looking for ways to meet her?
Yvette smiled slightly, her eyes full of mockery. "But in my eyes, you are just enjoying the novelty. Even though I used to be your wife, you feel a sense of novelty after five years of separation. What will happen after this novelty disappears?
"Will you throw me away like trash or treat me as a pet you're tired of, lock me at home, and make me wait for you every day?"
The heartache made his voice urgent and hoarse.
"Yvette, it's not a sense of novelty, and I will not throw you away like trash. You are my wife. No one can replace you."
