Divorce, Please: The Young Master Does Not Love Me

Chapter 600: Chapter 598: Drink Some Water First

Aria Joyce was so furious with Ian Shaw that her vision started to blacken. She summoned all her strength to roar at him, "I said, get the hell out!"

"Oh, I can’t do that. After having the honor of witnessing Miss Joyce’s... charm... in person, how could I possibly leave so easily?" Ian Shaw sneered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned Aria Joyce’s body from top to bottom.

"Get out! Just get the hell out!" Hearing Ian Shaw’s words, she completely broke down. Screaming and crying, she slid down the wall behind her and squatted. "I told you to get the hell out!"

Seeing the woman’s pathetic figure, squatting on the floor and sobbing her heart out, Ian Shaw felt a flicker of compassion.

But he knew one thing very clearly: with some people, if the lesson you teach them isn’t unforgettable, they will never learn what restraint is.

’Since she doesn’t even know how to cherish herself and doesn’t care about debasing herself, why should I show any mercy?’

He lifted his phone, saved the video he had just recorded, and then quickly snapped a few more photos of Aria Joyce.

Aria Joyce was in the midst of her sorrowful weeping when she suddenly saw Ian Shaw pointing his phone at her, taking pictures. A deafening roar filled her mind, and she shot to her feet, lunging at him. "Bastard! You bastard! How dare you take pictures of me!!!"

Holding his phone up, Ian Shaw took a few steps back and sneered at Aria Joyce. "Miss Joyce, feel free to come and hit me. But if my finger were to slip and press the wrong button... say, the send button... you can’t blame me for what happens."

Just as he expected, his words stopped her in her tracks. She stood there numbly, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.

’I thought I was going to become Tristan’s woman tonight.’ Just before entering the bathroom, she had been so happy, so expectant, so shy. She never imagined Tristan would actually plot against her like this. Right now, beyond the fury of being seen in such a pathetic state by Ian Shaw, she felt the sharp pang of heartache and a chilling coldness from being set up by Tristan...

Seeing Aria Joyce standing there crying like a lost soul, Ian Shaw felt a surge of irritation. He threw the towel in his hand over her head and tossed out a cold sentence, "Dry yourself off and come out. My patience is limited!" He then turned and slammed the door on his way out.

Hearing the door slam, Aria Joyce raised her hands and pulled the towel off her head. She wiped herself a couple of times without care before picking up the already-soaked formal dress from the floor and putting it on.

In the bedroom, Ian Shaw sat on the bed, his eyes fixed on the bathroom door. He seemed to be silently counting under his breath. Just as he reached fifty-eight, the bathroom door opened, and Aria Joyce walked out in her soaking wet dress.

Seeing Aria Joyce’s despairing expression, as if she were walking to her own execution, Ian Shaw’s lips curled into a mocking smile. He got up, walked to the water dispenser, and poured a glass of water. The moment he turned back, he dropped a small white pill into the cup. The pill dissolved instantly on contact with the water, the entire process taking less than a second.

He strode toward Aria Joyce, a sinister, cold smile on his face.

Aria Joyce seemed to snap back to her senses. She took a step back, her voice trembling as she asked in an anxious rush, "Ian Shaw, what exactly do you want? You’d better delete the photos on your phone, or I won’t let you get away with this!"

Ian Shaw raised the glass of water to Aria Joyce’s face and said in a cold voice, "You’ve been crying for so long, you must be thirsty. Have some water first. Then we can have a long, slow talk about those photos."

"Ian Shaw, what is it you really want?" Aria Joyce demanded, her hands clenched into tight fists.

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