My Ex-Wife, A Sl*t

"If I drink these, you won't bother Roy again, right?"

Cynthia glanced at the three glasses of red wine, which were filled to the brim, before looking up at the man sitting across from her, who wore a series of earrings in his left ear. She asked.

This man, Frank, has recently been the subject of a major interview for the magazine Cynthia works for. But in the course of his work he repeatedly tried to get close to her. Her colleague and friend, Roy, had been punished by Frank to help her, and even their camera had been smashed.

Meanwhile, that interview didn't go ahead, and their supervisor was unusually angry, leading to both her and Roy being punished.

Cynthia was here today to apologize for Roy and to try to persuade Frank to continue with the interview.

Frank, half-lying on the sofa, stared at her. She had a strikingly beautiful face, but it was her perfectly tailored suit that wrapped around her slender frame that caught his attention.

To him, she was even more enticing than women who wore barely anything at all.

His eyes briefly flickered with interest. He lounged casually on the sofa and flashed a confident, almost arrogant smile. "Of course. I never lie."

Cynthia picked up the glasses and drained them in one go, the crowd around them cheering.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, then stood up and extended her hand towards Frank, still lounging lazily.

"So, the interview..."

Frank smirked, his lips curling into a mocking smile. Slowly, he stood up and grasped her soft hand, his voice filled with innuendo.

"We can continue. Your supervisor is smart, sending such a beautiful woman. How could I say no?"

Without warning, Frank tightened his grip, pulling Cynthia into his embrace. For a brief moment, she felt dizzy.

Then, she realized his hands were sliding down her waist, caressing her.

A husky voice whispered in her ear, "Sweetheart, if you're willing to spend the night with me here, I can buy your magazine company and give it to you. Do you want that?"

Cynthia felt disgust rise in her chest, but kept her smile intact. She pushed his hand away from her chest. "I didn't know I was worth that much."

She pushed him away and stepped back, only to bump into someone coming toward her. The impact felt like crashing into a wall.

When she turned around, the color drained from her face, turning it as pale as a ghost.

She never imagined she'd encounter him here, at this moment!

Her ex-husband, Lucien Brown, the man who had divorced her six years ago.

His words from that day still echoed in her ears.

"I'm giving you freedom, Cynthia. But remember, if I ever meet you again, you'll know what hell is!"

And now, the man who once swore to ruin her stood right in front of her.

His perfect face sent a sharp jolt through her, stirring her nerves. Everything else faded from her mind.

However, he merely looked at her coldly, as if she were a stranger.

Standing beside him were two or three young men, along with a strikingly beautiful man, his  features were almost feminine, a blend of allure and masculine charm, like a dark fairy stepping out of the night.

The beautiful man noticed Lucien's unwavering gaze on Cynthia and wrapped an arm around his, asking in a teasing tone, "Lucien, you know her?"

"My ex-wife, a slut," Lucien replied nonchalantly, as if he were talking about a nobody.

He then turned his attention to Frank, who was standing beside Cynthia, and a cold smile appeared on his lips. "Frank, do you actually need a hooker?"

With that, Lucien strode forward, his long arm reaching out to grab Cynthia by the neck, pulling her roughly into his grip.

His eyes remained cold, but the ice in them seemed bottomless, chilling anyone who dared to look. "So, you've had vaginal rejuvenation surgery to fool people again? Bitch."

His words struck like a slap, and the crowd around them fell into stunned silence.

Frank's face went from pale to green with fury. He looked at Cynthia as if she had truly seduced him.

Cynthia felt Lucien's large hand on her neck, squeezing so tightly that she thought it might snap.

The moment she saw him, all her words seemed to vanish, leaving only the cold, mocking tone of his voice echoing in her mind.

Her face turned even paler than before, but her eyes had sharpened with cold resolve.

"Heh, if I'm a slut, then you must be the world's biggest joke, my dear ex-husband." she grimaced in pain, but still managed to mock him, her lips curling into a smile that made Lucien want to crush her.

For a split second, Lucien's eyes flashed with an icy storm, and a deadly silence settled over the room.

The air seemed to freeze, and the onlookers couldn't help but shudder, sensing that he might snap Cynthia's neck without a second thought.

No one dared to intervene.

That beautiful man rushed over, trying to pull his hand off her neck. "Lucien, we should go. Mr. Smith is waiting for us."

Lucien didn't move. It was as if he could only see the woman in front of him.

The man tried again, desperation creeping into his voice. "Lucien..."

With a sharp motion, Lucien tossed Cynthia aside, sending her crashing to the floor.

Her wrist slammed into the table, and the pain shot through her. The spilled wine splashed all over her face, blurring her vision.

No one offered to help her. The crowd stood there, merely observing.

Lucien stared down at her, his gaze as cold as the grave.

Finally, he stepped over her, not sparing her a single glance as he walked away.