Mission: From Divorcee to Millionaire novel Chapter 154

Her defiance surprised him, adding an unexpected twist to his life.

Plus, he had his own physical needs to consider. Margot was pregnant, so she couldn’t handle his demands, and finding someone else was just asking for trouble. Who else was more fitting than her?

He still needed her around, so laying on the charm was no big deal—just a bit of sweet talk would do.

Selena rolled her eyes internally but didn't bother calling out his hidden agenda. Whatever he was thinking didn't matter to her anymore.

She was utterly spent and soon drifted back into a deep sleep.

Everett, on the other hand, wasn’t sleepy at all. But as he held Selena, inhaling the subtle scent of her body wash—despite using the same one, hers seemed more inviting—he found himself relaxing.

He kissed the back of her neck, slowly unwinding and eventually nodding off as well.

…

At Bennett Corporation.

Derick strode into the office, flanked by two towering security guards, and pointed at Lydia's desk. "Search it!"

The employees exchanged confused glances, unsure of the situation, while Lydia's face turned ashen.

Blocking the guards, she forced a smile at Derick. "Derick, what’s this about? Why are you suddenly searching my desk?"

Derick’s icy stare bore into her. "You really have no clue?"

"I honestly don’t know," Lydia insisted, still playing the innocent.

"Get on with it," Derick ordered, ignoring her as the guards moved in.

Following orders, the guards brushed Lydia aside and began their search.

Panicking, Lydia started to cause a scene, when she realized she couldn’t fend off the guards. "Derick, this is a violation of my privacy! Is this how Bennett Corporation treats its employees? Where are my rights? I’ll make sure everyone knows about this!"

He was usually on high alert, rarely falling into such a deep sleep that he’d miss anything. However, this time, he had slept so soundly, unaware of her departure.

This change didn’t sit well with him.

Everett rubbed his temples, got out of bed, and padded barefoot across the plush carpet towards the coffee table. As he bent down to grab a bottle of water, something on the table caught his eye.

A sticky note.

His fingers picked up the note, which was written in neat, elegant handwriting.

[Everett, I’m not one to take advantage. So, after today’s matter, consider it all squared away.]

His gaze darkened as he shifted his attention to the three pennies placed beside the note, his expression turning grim.

Was he worth only three pennies?