After divorce, Ex-wife Revealed Identities novel Chapter 190

When she was about to grab a taxi, a Bentley came out of the garage.

The windows lowered. Franklin smiled. "A good husband must be a good driver too. Get in the car."

Sylvia was speechless. She wanted to say that she didn't care if he was a good driver because they'd gotten divorced.

Sylvia, who had always been sharp-tongued, said nothing this time.

She was going to meet someone.

Arriving at the destination, Franklin looked around and frowned.

"What are you doing here?"

It was a shabby neighborhood. Some buildings seemed to be falling apart.

The air was smelly.

It was a disgusting place to stay in.

"To find someone." Sylvia got out of the car and said curtly, "Thank you, go back."

In a broken room, a man in his thirties was drinking.

With a messy beard, he looked depressed.

Beside him squatted an eight-year-old boy. Seeing that the man was drinking unhappily, the boy couldn't help crying. He shouted, "Dad, stop drinking."

He knew his dad had been in very bad health lately. But they had no money to go to the hospital.

The man spent all the money he earned on alcohol.

He didn't care about his health at all.

"Leave me alone." The man shook the little boy away.

The boy was so young that he fell on the ground.

Suddenly, a woman's cold voice sounded at the door, "Brock Davila."

Brock slowly opened his drunken eyes, looked at the beautiful woman at the door, and said gloomily, "Who are you?"

"I'm your savior."

Ten minutes later, Brock washed his face, tidied his clothes, and went to Sylvia.

He looked nice.

The little boy also sat obediently beside him, staring at Sylvia with big eyes.

"I haven't been filming for a long time." Brock still remembered how cruel Sylvia could be.

They were poor, so they had a well in the yard from where they fetched water.

There was a water tank next to the well.

He would never forget the fear and suffocation he felt when Sylvia pressed him directly into the water tank.

She asked him, "Sober up?"

Brock was almost choked. Of course, he had sobered up.

So now he obediently cleaned himself and sat there, listening carefully to this strange woman.

Did she want him, a loser director, to film for her?

That sounded naïve and ridiculous!

Brock refused without even thinking about it.

"Don't jump to the conclusion. Keep the script, read it, think about it, and then contact me." Sylvia put the script in front of Brock, "Mr. Davila, you have to get up from wherever you fall. Do you want to end up with such a bad name? Your son is so cute. Do you want to ruin his life?"

Brock's eyes reddened slightly.

He clenched the script in his hand and did not speak for a long time.