After divorce I am a billionaire novel Chapter 502

"Yes, I understand. Don't worry, bro."

The two went back to the White Mansion together and then split up in the winding alley.

Chad went back to his villa, where Keira was probably cooking dinner and waiting for him to come home.

Malcolm went back to Lyre Spiti. He had made it a habit to make a meal for Lyra to enjoy together before she came home.

Lyra was busy with the Lloyd's Corp and was helping Keith with Melissa's treatment.

Knowing exactly what Melissa had been attacked with, the doctor in the lab would be better able to prescribe the right medicine for her, but after all, it was a neurological disease and the treatment period was longer.

After half an hour or so, Lyra came home.

Malcolm finished cooking just in time and put the last dish on the table.

The two finished their dinner in harmony and sweetness.

Before going to bed, Malcolm went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Lyra saw that his shirt which was casually thrown in the corner of the bed, and went over to help him pack it up, intending to help him put it in the dirty clothes basket.

But..

The moment the shirt was picked up, she could smell a hint of an unusual smell on the clothes.

It was the smell of smoke.

She had never smoked and had ordered Malcolm not to smoke for the health of the babies, so she was very sensitive to the smell.

Malcolm went behind her back today and smoked?

The sound of the water in the bathroom stopped and Malcolm came out with a white towel tied around his waist and his fine and good-looking arms raised as he dried the water droplets on his hair.

In the bedroom, the atmosphere was extremely grim.

He turned around and saw Lyra who was sitting on the edge of the bed with a sullen look, holding the shirt he had just taken off. She looked like she was in a bad mood and holding her anger.

"Babe?"

He called her uncertainly.

With two slender fingers, Lyra picked up his shirt and questioned in a deep voice, "Explain?"

Malcolm didn't understand, "What?"

"Still pretending? Lying?"

She turned around and went for the ruler on the bedside table.

She had not used it for a long time, put the ruler on her hand, but still felt a little heavy.

Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief. She took out the ruler so where did he go wrong?

Without thinking deeply, he threw the towel that had finished wiping his hair onto the table, took a big step over, untied the bath towel that was tied too tightly, and sat naked on his knees on the bed.

The cold air came over, and he felt a little ashamed. Then he took the towel to cover his body and looked honest.

"Honey, I've been very disciplined all day today. I really didn't do anything wrong, much less lie. Take it easy. Don't wrong me."

Lyra sat on the bed as well, sitting cross-legged in front of him, nudging his arm and signaling him to reach out.

"My sense of smell is normal, no problem. I don't wrong you. If you can't remember, then let the pain awaken your memory."

Malcolm mulled frantically over the meaning of her words and slowly reached out.

Lyra's eyes were intense with anger, and her right hand swung the ruler high.

Without waiting to smash down, Malcolm quickly retracted his hand, "I remembered. Do you think I smell like smoke?"

Lyra smiled in cold sarcasm, "It seems that your brain is still good. At least in front of the family instruction, you're fearful."

Malcolm frowned, feeling a little aggrieved, "Babe, at today's investigation, I felt it bored, habitually lit a cigarette, but I really did not smoke. I handed it to Chad, let him run to the corner to smoke. Probably because we are in a same room, so the shirt is stained with the smell of Chad's cigarette."

"Honey, believe me. It's really not a lie."

Lyra's face still looked stern and she noticed the caught the loopholes in his words keenly.

"So the cigarette was lit voluntarily by you, and was handed to Chad at the last minute when your conscience got the better of you and you were afraid I would find out, right?"

Why was her logical thinking so strange?

He furrowed his eyebrows tightly, and felt more aggrieved. Then, he felt wronged and reached out both hands.

"Yes, if you think I'm wrong, then punish me severely. Preferably my hands will be broken that I can't even hold a pen or knife and fork, so that tomorrow the whole National Investigation Bureau will know that I'm being punished."