After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities

Franklin interrupted him again, "I know, but | will try." Then Franklin hung up the phone.

He stood on the balcony, looking at Sylvia, who was sleeping tranquilly on the bed, through the glass door. His expression was deep and quiet.

He gazed at her in silence. After a long while, he took an imported cigar from a humidor and pressed the button of his silver lighter.

Blue flame spurted out.

At this moment, Sylvia woke up and saw his beautiful face clearly.

It was as perfect as being created by the God, pretty but masculine.

His eyes were glittering but freezing, like a devil, strong and aloof.

Franklin took a snuff. The smoke shrouded him.

Sylvia looked around and found it was the bedroom where she lived four years ago.

Was she taken here by Franklin? She gradually got her memory back.

The formidable masked man and the jealous Franklin flashed through her mind.

She felt a bit headache.

But her body was in a good condition, but a bit sore which reminded her of what happened before.

Did she have sex with Franklin again? It was obvious.

However, why was he so sullen? Sylvia sat up. She wanted to say something but failed because her throat was dry and uncomfortable.

She frowned slightly and found there was a cup of water on the nightstand.

She snatched it up and swallowed the water.

The flow went through her dry throat which was suddenly moistened.

After drinking it up, Sylvia put down the cup. Meanwhile, Franklin stubbed out the cigar and opened the glass door, walking in and looking down on her.

There was a faint smell of tobacco around the man.

During their marriage, he never smoked in front of Sylvia.

It was the first time.

When she was a bit confused, the man spoke in an aloof voice, "Another cup?" Sylvia bit her lower lip and said, "One more." Then she saw him get another cup of water for her.

He bent, his tobacco-smell breathing reaching Sylvia's forehead and wafting down.

Sylvia's eyelashes fluttered. She took the cup and drank.

And she looked at the man from time to time.

There was light on his angular, carved face. He squinted; his eyes were as black as ink, looking especially deep.

The corner of his eyes showed a hint of alienation, making others fail to stop themselves to be appalled.

As Sylvia was drinking water, her stomach ached. A warm flow gushed.

Gosh, her period started early again.

Since she had suffered from the virus, her period was never regular.

She put down the cup and got out of the bed subconsciously.

However, Franklin put her back with his long-fingered and powerful palms on her shoulders.

His face, beautiful and cool, came close to her. His voice was in an intimidating tone, saying through gritted teeth, "What are you doing?" Sylvia was angry and impatient, feeling that the warm fluid was getting more.

It gradually dampened her pajamas and was gushing out with a sense of stickiness.

She would break down if she didn't go to the bathroom right now.

Sylvia struggled to free herself and said, "Let go! I'm going to the bathroom." "Really?" Franklin fixed his gaze on Sylvia. Her face was a bit pale and her jaw tautened.

Franklin tipped his front teeth with his tongue, chuckling. She had fled so many times.

Sylvia clenched her teeth. It was no doubt that her pants had been wet through. She shouted, "Franklin! You bastard! Let me go!" Her stomach felt more and more uncomfortable, so she struggled to move towards the bathroom without another explanation.

However, her struggle made the apple of his throat move up and down.

When she turned her head and stared at him, Franklin lowered his head and clamped her jade-like earlobe in his mouth precisely, his nose rubbing her ear.

"Sweetie, don't flee from me!" said his dangerous voice.

Sylvia's complexion was a bit paler.

Sweat exuded from her delicate and beautiful nose.

She seemed really unwell and said, "Franklin! Let me go, please. My period comes." Franklin raised his eyebrows coldly. "Don't trick me." His voice was low and sexy.

Sylvia was so weak because she just recovered from the pain caused by the virus.

She controlled her urge to kick him off and nodded, "Let go!" Franklin squinted at her paler face and her acting impatiently, then he finally raised his hands.

Sylvia got liberated and quickly rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door.

Franklin sank into the soft bed.

At the next second, he saw the obtrusive crimson on the cover.

Damn it. He changed it just now.

Sylvia opened the locker. Before they got divorced, she always kept some sanitary napkins in it. Others were placed in an exclusive locker in her closet.

But she had no idea if he had thrown them away.

When Sylvia saw there were two bags, she sighed with relief.

Her thin pajamas were tinged by the blood. The bed must be tinged.

Franklin! Damn! Sylvia closed her eyes for a second.

Awhile later, she came out of the bathroom and saw that Franklin was bending to tidy up the new sheet.

Franklin was tall and handsome. Even though he was changing a sheet, it was as elegant as vogue shoots.

If there was a camera, it would be an advertisement shooting set for bedding.

Each freeze-frame would definitely be the cover of any magazine.

The man was handsome to the utmost.

But Sylvia was not in the mood to enjoy it. She found the sheet put aside on the ground and intended to take it to the bigger washroom outside.

"Put it down," said the cold voice of the man behind her.

"I will wash it," said Sylvia embarrassingly.

Franklin made the bed.

And he walked toward her with his long and powerful legs and snatched the sheet in her hands, saying, "You are not allowed to touch cold water during your period." Sylvia felt confused due to his reactions but said, "I'm gonna put it into the washing machine with a piece of soap." She never said she was about to wash it by hand.

The next second, she felt astonished to see that he grabbed the sheet, opened the door, and walked into the washroom outside.

What was he going to do? Sylvia followed him curiously.

Jesus! Franklin was scrubbing the dyed part hard with soap.

He lowered his head slightly. His eyelashes were thicker and longer than women's. There were thin but sexy lips under his straight nose.

He actually washed her menstrual blood with his hands? It was said that rich families treated it as taboo because it was filthy and implied a bad hunch.

Sylvia was a bit stunned.

The crimson on the sheet faded away.

After a while, he turned on the faucet to rinse it.

And he scrubbed it again until it was completely clean.

Then he put it into the washer.

Hardly had he turned around when he saw Sylvia looking shocked.

Sylvia gasped and came to life when she saw his cold eyes.

She opened her mouth and said, "Franklin, you, you wash it?" "First time. Just for you ever after," said Franklin, coldly and powerfully.

He was always mighty and aloof, speaking like a monarch.

But Sylvia felt a bit touched.

Her skin seemed as fair as fresh milk in the light, beautiful enough to feast the eyes.

Franklin squinted at her and then seized her wrist above her head.

Before Sylvia realized it, she had been pinned against the tiled wall in the washroom.

The tall man leaned forward.

She couldn't help but raise her head, seeing his face getting close to her.

Then his soft and cool lips touched hers.

He kept his arm around her supple waist. Her body was fixed between his chest and the wall.

Despite anything, she beat and kicked Franklin.

But he was as stable as a mountain, motionless.

She couldn't repress her anger anymore.

So, she intended to kick his heel of Achilles.

However, it seemed that he found out her intention, and he let go of her in good time and took a step back.

Franklin looked at Sylvia in silence, raising his eyebrows.

"Psycho, | need rest." Sylvia stretched her uncomfortable waist and walked towards the bedroom.

But she felt a bit confused. At that moment, she was in a coma. Why didn’t Franklin question her? Typically, it was impossible for him not to interrogate her, such as "why did you faint", "why did you feel hot or cold from time to time", etc.

And he just stayed calm which was so weird.

Sylvia felt strange.

Something was surely wrong.

She grabbed her phone but found it had run out of battery.

She charged it with a charger found on the nightstand. After a while, the phone was powered up.

Then she saw the message from Logan on Facebook.