Revenge Wears Red Lipstick-Chapter 136: How Can I Help You, Brother?

Back in Lexora,

In a room filled with heat, accompanied by the squeaking of the bed, a man and a woman were both entangled in intimacy. Moans filled the room as both bodies gave in to their lust.

After several hours, they finally lay on the bed to rest. Their chests heaved as they painted.

The woman’s hands were draped over the man’s body, trying to cuddle as a form of aftercare. Unfortunately for her, the man wasn’t into such hobbies.

Mylo lit a cigarette and placed it between his fingers, puffing the smoke through his lips and fingers.

"Are you really going to indulge yourself in that right after we’re done with sex?" Jennifer questioned, obviously displeased by his lack of aftercare.

They’d been together for over a year now—ever since her obsession with Dante had ended—but not once had he tried to put in any effort after sex.

"I already told you what you were getting yourself into before we got together. Don’t expect me to change all of a sudden, Jennifer," Mylo said, a lack of interest evident in his tone. His response earned him a scowl from Jennifer, which he didn’t bother to acknowledge.

"But we’re in a relationship. How hard can it be?" she demanded.

Mylo hissed under his breath, his face scrunching up in frustration. He could tell an argument was coming. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the strength for that.

Sighing, he stood up from the bed and silently searched for a robe.

"Where are you going?" she questioned, ready to get down from the bed, but a glare from Mylo stopped her in her tracks.

"I’ll give you money instead. Will that be enough?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Jennifer frowned deeply. "I’m not a slut."

"And yet, you’re here."

That response left her frozen. He quickly grabbed a robe and exited the room without asking any more questions.

Jennifer was simply his toy. She was an heiress—but a brainless one—who did whatever her parents told her to do.

Sex with her the first time had been good, so Mylo decided to keep her close but laid out conditions for her.

Much to his dismay, she became clingy and started expecting a normal relationship with him, which he couldn’t give.

Mylo marched down to his bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He downed the whole thing in one go, his face blank as if there was no burn.

He puffed the cigarette still stuck between his fingers.

He’d already seen the news—the presidential election would commence soon. And if things worked out the way his father planned, he could easily be elected, regardless of the civilian vote in their so-called democratic country.

He remembered stealing the document from his father’s study—it was his will. As expected, Mr. De Rossi hadn’t included him in his so-called will. Everything was given to Dante, and not even a needle was left for him.

Mylo’s fist clenched around the glass, veins bulging in his hands.

He’d done everything he could since childhood just to earn his father’s recognition, but nothing worked.

The old man’s eyes had always been on Dante, watching him like a hawk while abandoning his other children.

Because of the lack of affection he never got from his father, Mylo had despised Dante, thinking he was the problem. But now, he understood just how twisted his father truly was.

Rhea never got to make her debut in society because their father was too ashamed of her. He was heartless enough to kill his very own daughter, as long as it benefited him.

Mylo’s eyes darkened at the thought.

He downed another glass of whiskey and took another puff of smoke, as if either could ease the pain. Yet, it didn’t.

His phone suddenly vibrated with a call.

His eyebrows shot up when he saw the name flashing on the screen.

An hour later,

Mylo marched into the bar. It was only 7 p.m., yet the whole place was already filled with people.

He silently shrugged as he scanned the crowd. Once he spotted the person he was looking for, his eyes darkened with suspicion before he started walking toward them.

"I didn’t think you would come," Dante said without turning to face Mylo, who took a seat next to him.

"Neither did I," Mylo responded. He faced the bartender. "Beer, please." Then he turned to Dante. "So, are you still going to waste my time, or are you gonna start talking?"

A faint smile stretched across Dante’s lips before disappearing as quickly as it came.

"Eva and I got divorced," he revealed.

Mylo blinked at him. "You signed the divorce papers," he stated. "Didn’t think you were that much of a fool, honestly speaking."

If Dante was hurt by the insult, he didn’t show it.

"You bragged about loving her— even threatened to kill our father—and now you’re letting her go just like that?"

"I never said I was letting her go," Dante corrected. "I’ll be back for her soon. But for now, I want us to work together. I’ve let you become a deadbeat for quite a while now. I need your help in taking down our father."

If Mylo was shocked, he didn’t show it—his face remained unreadable, and even Dante couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

Unlike Dante, who had dark eyes and hair he’d inherited from their father, Mylo had gray ones from their mother, which made his features stand out.

After the news released earlier that day, he’d already guessed Dante would try to use it to his advantage. But he hadn’t expected Dante to need his help.

When was the last time they’d sat down together at a bar to discuss their problems and how one would help the other?

Decades.

Mylo didn’t respond until the bartender served his beer. He downed the entire thing in one go like a starved animal, then burped before facing Dante.

"How can I help you, brother?" he asked.