Divorce, Please: The Young Master Does Not Love Me

Chapter 599: Chapter 597: Despicable

"In the bathroom!" Tristan Grayson looked up and tossed the keys in his hand to Ian Shaw.

Ian Shaw nodded, his tone sharp and cold. "This is absolutely the last time." After he spoke, his grip on the keys tightened.

Tristan Grayson had always trusted Ian Shaw to handle things, so he didn’t need to ask—or explain—how to deal with Aria Joyce.

He pushed himself up, grabbing Mika Summers’s arm tightly as he stumbled out the door. He hadn’t taken two steps before he couldn’t hold on any longer. He spun around, pinning Mika against the wall behind them. "Wife, hurry," he said, his voice hoarse and impatient. "I can’t take this anymore." As he spoke, he leaned in, aiming for her red lips.

Hearing this, Mika Summers blushed and raised a hand to cover Tristan’s mouth, stopping his kiss.

"Wife..." Tristan Grayson looked at Mika Summers with a wounded expression. ’Why won’t she help me when I’m like this...?’

Seeing Tristan’s wounded look, Mika’s face flushed an even deeper red. ’What does he mean, ’hurry’?! Not only is there someone else here, but we’re in the middle of a hallway! Even if he can’t take it, we can’t... do it here.’

But there was no way Tristan could last until they got home in this state. Steeling herself, she turned to Ian Shaw with a pleading look.

Ian Shaw couldn’t help but laugh at Tristan Grayson’s desperate state. Still, he was a good sport. He raised his hand and pointed to the third guest room on the left across the hall. "Room 412."

"Okay, thank you." Mika Summers nodded, her face flushed. She supported Tristan Grayson and hurried toward Room 412. Though it was only five or six steps away, Tristan’s hands never stopped roaming over her body.

Ian Shaw waited until Mika Summers and Tristan Grayson were inside the room before he closed the door.

He looked down at the key in his hand, a cold, wicked smile playing on his lips.

Back in the bedroom, Ian Shaw reached out and slammed the door shut.

SLAM! The sound jolted Aria Joyce, who was in the bathroom, back to her senses. She scrambled up from the floor and began pounding on the door, shouting anxiously, "Tristan, is that you?"

A horrifying smile spread across Ian Shaw’s face. He glanced around the room, then pulled out his phone and turned on the camera. He walked to the bathroom door, unlocked it with the key, and then turned the handle to push his way inside.

The moment he entered, Aria Joyce was clearly shocked to see Ian Shaw. She quickly grabbed a bath towel to cover herself, her face deathly pale as she yelled in alarm, "Ian Shaw, what are you doing here?!"

But Ian Shaw wasn’t about to give her a chance to cover up. With a powerful tug, he ripped the towel away. He sneered, "What? Disappointed to see it’s me?" ’I don’t even know how to describe what I’m feeling right now. It’s like the untouchable goddess I’ve always admired has suddenly become so cheap and vile. In my eyes, even though Aria Joyce loved Tristan Grayson, she was always the proudest of women. She should have been above using such despicable tricks to get what she wanted. But everything that happened tonight proved she’s no different from the women I used to sleep with. In fact, she’s even less noble. At least they did it for money. Aria Joyce is trying to destroy a family.’

Suddenly exposed, Aria Joyce crossed her hands over her chest, her body trembling. With red-rimmed eyes, she roared in fury, "Ian Shaw, get the hell out!"

"Heh, Miss Joyce seems rather angry. Why is that? Are you unhappy to see me? Or were you perhaps hoping, Miss Joyce, that the person walking in would be Tristan Grayson?"

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