In the private room, the girl gazed at the man before her with deep affection.
Aveline stood outside the private room with cold hands and feet. Like the girl inside, she stared at the man’s handsome, sharp face, as her complexion gradually turned pale.
That was her husband, Lucas Tudor.
He was mute, working as a server in this club. Today, she got off work early to go home with him but didn’t expect to stumble upon this scene.
The man who usually wore a server’s uniform was now in a tailored suit, his short hair meticulously styled. His expression was noble and cold, with an air of elegance and aloofness she had never seen before.
His thin lips parted, his voice low and pleasant. “I’ll bring it up to her soon.”
She shut her eyes abruptly and turned to leave.
He could speak.
His voice was actually so pleasant.
However, she never expected that the first words she would hear him say were about divorce.
Aveline was in a daze, thinking she must have mistaken someone else for him.
How could that noble and cold man be Lucas?
How could Lucas be divorcing her?
She exited the club, and it started raining outside. She quickly got soaked. She took out her phone and, on an impulse, dialed his number.
She walked to the window of the private room and looked inside through the hazy rain.
She saw him pick up his phone, his stern brows furrowing, and he hung up the call expressionlessly before starting to type.
Soon, she received a message from Lucas, “Ave, did you forget I can’t talk? Why did you call me?”
Aveline looked at the message, her heart aching as if pierced by a knife!
Why did he lie to her?
When did he recover?
When did he meet that girl?
When did he decide to divorce her?
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