Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 90: How Ruthless She Is!
The silent room echoed with the sound of a strap snapping.
Under the moonlight, the beauty’s black hair fell loose, highlighting a gracefully thin right-angled shoulder, the collarbone reflecting a warm white light, with the deep collarbone hollow exuding a subtle fragrance.
Ian Kane stared at her with a look of morbid obsession, like an addict.
Impatiently, his thin lips moved towards her neck.
Vera Sheridan instinctively pushed against his chest, but the man seized her wrists, pinning them against the pillow.
"Ian Kane, if you dare touch me, I’ll accuse you of rape!" Vera warned through clenched teeth.
From beside her ear came the man’s sarcastic mutter, "If I can’t touch you, who can? Noah Grant?"
He suddenly lifted his head, his blood-red eyes staring at her, filled with a sick possessiveness. In a hoarse voice, the man stated, "You are mine, Vera. You are my wife!"
Hot breath mixed with the smell of smoke and alcohol spilled over her face. Vera turned her head away, but Ian Kane’s rough fingertips gripped her chin, forcing her to face him.
"Say it, you are mine, be good." As he spoke, his finger pad rubbed against her luscious lips, applying increasing pressure as if to crush her.
Vera’s eyes were cold, and her tone even colder, "Pervert."
Ian Kane’s lips curled into a smile as he leisurely unbuttoned his black shirt, his dark eyes fixed on her, like a predator staring at its prey.
The air was filled with a dangerous tension.
If Vera moved slightly, he would tighten his grip on her wrists.
A flushed neck, chest, scars, and abdominal muscles gradually exposed to view, with danger ever closer.
Vera’s other hand quietly felt for the bedside table, where a handy small vase was ready for her to grab. At the moment he leaned in, she swung it towards his head.
Ian Kane seemed to have expected this and promptly seized her wrist.
"Really want to smash me to death?" He grinned, with no trace of anger or amusement in his voice, releasing Vera’s hand.
Vera showed almost no hesitation and swung it towards his head.
In Ian Kane’s fever-bright eyes, a flicker of shock appeared, and the next instant, the vase smashed solidly against his head.
Vera pushed him away, quickly got off the bed pulling up the broken strap, and grabbed the phone from the bedside table.
At a safe distance, she turned on the light, coolly eyeing the man sitting on the bed.
Dressed in black, his pallid face was tinged with fever, his lips dry and white, and his blood-red eyes fixed on her, his thin lips trembling, "You really hit me..."
Vera’s tone was icy, "Ian Kane, we’re getting divorced. Leave now, or I’ll call the police."
Ian Kane took long strides, his figure slightly swaying, towards her, "What’s wrong with me?"
Vera retreated towards the door, and as she was about to reach it, Ian Kane rushed forward, his tall figure blocking her, attempting to grab her wrist.
She quickly backed away, pointing at the door, speaking coldly, "Get out, or I’ll really call the police!"
She could see he was unwell.
Pneumonia from being caught in the rain.
Serves him right!
Ian Kane’s chest heaved dramatically, the open collar of his black shirt revealing flushed white skin, his gaze moved towards her beige silhouette not far away.
Viewing the sickened him as a paper tiger, Vera sidestepped him to the doorway, opening the door wide, "Get out! If you don’t get out now, I’ll call for help!"
The old foreign-style building housed many families, with each floor able to hear the movements from upstairs or next door at night.
If she shouted, Aunty Callahan from downstairs would definitely rush up.
Ian Kane approached her, and when he was close, Vera attempted to push him out.
He suddenly experienced severe dizziness, losing balance, and crashed heavily into a vintage chest of drawers, making a dull thud.
His legs gave way, and he collapsed on the ground.
Vera watched this scene, expressionless, with no panic or concern.
Ian Kane tried to struggle to his feet, but the high fever and pneumonia-induced oxygen deficiency left him powerless, his vision blurring, forcing him to curl up pitifully, gasping and coughing.
He looked towards Vera.
Seeing her cold face standing not far away, showing no sign of concern for him.
In a daze, Ian Kane recalled that night when he had a gastric hemorrhage, it was actually the servant who took care of him through the night...Not only did she not take care of him; she secretly pressed his fingerprint while he was asleep.
"She’s just like your father, doesn’t love you at all!" His mother’s words lingered in his ears.
Ian Kane lay there with dust on his expensive shirt, hair disheveled, his expression twisted with pain, fingers weakly struggling, his dark eyes flickering with shattered light.
Vera looked down at him coldly.
The quiet room was filled only with heavy breathing and coughing.
At this moment, his most vulnerable and despicable state was exposed to her indifferent gaze.
After some time, Vera picked up her phone and started dialing.
Ian Kane’s eyes seemed to ignite with two flames.
"Hello, is this the police? Hello, there’s someone trespassing in the middle of the night, please come and take him away immediately. The address is Unit 22, Alley 23, No. 96 Serenity Road." Vera called the police coldly.
Ian Kane’s eyes turned ashen, his chest rising and falling.
Vera ended the call without glancing at him, walking over to the wardrobe, taking out a robe and wrapping herself tightly.
Just as she turned around.
Ian Kane was somehow already in front of her, gripping her neck with his hand, his pale, handsome face twisted with a sinister gaze, "Vera, you’re truly something!"
His tone was cold, and his breathing was more urgent, like an exhausted bow.
If not for supporting himself by gripping her neck, he would have collapsed.
"No longer care about Owen Sheridan’s life, huh?"
Vera was fearless.
Ian Kane saw her as fearless.
He sneered, "Do you think Noah Grant can really make Hector Lowell turn against me?"
Hector Lowell was a devoted father, whose severely ill daughter was still waiting for a life-saving treatment. It was impossible for him to disregard his daughter’s life for betrayal.
Vera remained indifferent.
For dealing with a control freak like Ian Kane, coldness and indifference were the best responses.
Ian Kane slightly tightened his grip at her throat, seeing her frown, he eased up a bit, "A canary in the cage dares to ride on my head, huh, really think you’re about to climb higher?"
Vera’s heart was pricked.
Her face remained unruffled.
Ian Kane thought she was acquiescent, his gaze cutting into her, he tightened his jaw, sneering, "Vera, even in death, you’ll be my ghost."
Vera stared at him and blurted out, "Tomorrow at ten in the morning, we will meet at the civil affairs bureau, if you don’t show up, I will immediately expose that video."
Implying that tomorrow they must divorce!
To hell with being his ghost!
Ian Kane released her neck, gently tapping her cheek, mocking, "So confident in Noah Grant?"
At that moment, police sirens wailed downstairs, with blue and red lights flashing through the window.
Ian Kane turned, his footsteps unsteady as he walked off.
The police had just reached the hallway, intercepted by his bodyguards.
Soon, they saw the big-shot Ian Kane descending the stairs, all eyes filled with astonishment.
As he approached, Ian Kane slightly raised his jaw, signaling his bodyguard to hand out cigarettes, he smiled faintly, explaining, "Wife threw a fit, moved out to stay, I came to pacify her in the middle of the night, just a misunderstanding."
The police recognized Vera emerging from the door and immediately understood.
Vera reentered the room, forcefully closing and locking the door, locking all the windows from the inside.
Ian Kane and the police soon left.
In the latter half of the night, Vera held her phone, sleepless until dawn.
Ian Kane was so confident that Hector Lowell wouldn’t turn against him...
At half-past eight in the morning, Noah Grant finally called, telling her to be on time at the civil affairs bureau.
