After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities novel Chapter 141

Sylvia had nothing to say.

It was none of her business.

She got off the car and stood there.

Now, what she was supposed to do was to go home, take a shower and have a nice sleep.

It was so exhausting to be the general director. She was tired.

Franklin, appearing to be miserable, clutched his stomach. He slowly approached Sylvia. It was so close that his face almost touched hers.

Sylvia took a step back, "If your stomach aches, take some pills."

A sense of outrage oozed from Franklin. There was something intimidating in his dark eyes.

He had faked a pitiful look. Why didn't she show any sympathy toward him?

He could not help feeling frustrated.

Jasper was wordless. 'Mr. Maskelyne, you don't look pitiful at all. You are scary.'

After a while, Sylvia looked back at him calmly, "Don't be so childish, Franklin."

Her cold voice was devoid of sympathy, which fanned the flames of anger inside Franklin.

'What a merciless woman.'

"You think I can't live without you? Sylvia, for the sake of the old feelings, can't you make some pasta for me? I don't ask for much, just a plate of pasta."

Franklin raised his hands. His long, slender fingers caressed her face boldly, "Or do I have to resort to other measures to make you stay?"

Sylvia wanted to avoid his touch, but it was too late.

His large and firm hand had gripped her wrist and dragged her towards the house…

Sylvia frowned. 'What's he angry with?'

Franklin kicked the door open.

The atmosphere in the living room almost froze, making everyone in this room stressed.

It was like a huge cage made of ice.

And Sylvia was in the middle of it.

She watched the man, whose eyes were as sharp as blades dipped in extreme coldness. A mere glance would carve her skin open and leave her flesh bare in the piercing coldness.

Rock, who was watering the flowers, came to the living room as he heard some noise.

When he entered and saw the two people confronting each other, he immediately put down his kettle and welcomed, "Mrs. Maskelyne, you are back."

Sylvia was incapable of speech.

Mrs. Maskelyne, what a familiar old name.

Franklin was standing in front of her in an oppressing manner.

He inhaled deeply to suppress the urge to correct her behavior.

"Rock has always been nice to you. He didn't have dinner either. Make some pasta, will you?"

Rock, unaware of the tension between them, felt the atmosphere was a bit weird.

Sylvia forced herself to smile, though it was stiff, and looked into Rock's caring eyes, "Rock, you didn't have dinner?"

He glanced at Franklin. Of course, he was to take Franklin's side. It was apparent that he was determined to keep Mrs. Maskelyne here, which he was happy to see.

"No, I have not. I miss your cooking so much."

Sylvia had no other choice but to head to the kitchen.

Rock had been nice to her.

When others were nice to her, she repaid their kindness, and when others were mean to her, she would treat them the same way she was treated.

Therefore, she was not going to do anything that would harm Rock.

Franklin leaned on the couch leisurely. There were women out there more docile and lovely than Sylvia, but he was attracted by her alone, like a masochist.

His handmade suit was unbuttoned and two buttons of his black shirt inside were open, revealing his throat and collarbone and his half visible chest…

From where he was sitting, he could perfectly see what Sylvia was doing in the kitchen.

His eyes rested boldly on her, trying to catch even the slightest change on her face.

It was so sharp and dangerous that Sylvia felt a bit uncomfortable.

She had agreed to make dinner, what more did he want?

Her movements got stiffened with his attention hovering around her.

Suddenly, he stood up, took off his suit, and walked to the kitchen.

He stared at her.

His thin lips curled into a faint smile, "Let me help you."

He rolled up his sleeves and showed his arms, which were firm and masculine.

As he was washing the vegetables, the firm muscles visibly shifted and tensed.

He tilted his head a bit and saw her beautiful face. She was putting all her heart into making pasta.