Divorce me I'm done serving you (Ayla) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101 Holding Hands

Chapter 101 Holding Hands

To Troy, Ayla was ignoring him and kept staring at Draven.

He became even more furious.

When anger hit a certain point, one didn’t even need to comtrol anymore.

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Right now, Troy’s expression was neutral, but his tone had gone oddly gentle. “Ayla, what are you staring at? Speak.”

That cold edge in his voice was impossible to miss. She started to turn back.

A hand moved into her view, blocking everything.

A moment later, warm fingers wrapped around her own, a heat that felt strangely grounding.

A quiet voice brushed past her ear. “I’ll agree.”

Then, in a softer voice, he asked, “But how much do you plan to use me for?”

Draven’s cool eyes shifted to Troy’s stare.

For now, holding her hand was enough.

He pulled his hand away, and Ayla’s sight returned.

The tall, lean figure walked beside her.

His grip changed, then his fingers slid between hers, slow and deliberate, palms pressed firmly together, his warmth anchoring her.

Draven gave a gentle pull and guided her forward,

Ayla had only said that line out of disgust for Troy, She never expected Draven to actually step in.

He had approached without a sound, covered her eyes, then taken her hand.

Just like when Bria threw wine at her-the jacket that landed on her shoulders, radiating his warmth.

Draven kept showing up at her side with no fuss. He didn’t talk much-he acted. He even waited while she browsed clothes.

He never said he’d stay. She took far longer than she planned, yet he remained there, not even in the slightest bit annoyed.

Like waiting for her was the most natural thing.

Because of that, Ayla carried this odd certainty: even if she admitted she intended to use him, Draven would still accept it.

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Chapter 101 Holding Hands

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And he did.

Now Draven held her hand and continued walking. Ayla slowed half a step. She glanced down at their interlocked hands, then up at his tall, disciplined frame, catching his sharp profile.

Maybe sensing her stare, he turned his head slightly.

Ayla quickly shifted her gaze away.

Then it felt strange, so she looked again.

He slipped into the act far easier than she did, fully committed, as if holding hands meant nothing. Maybe

it really meant nothing to him. He treated it casually, without awkwardness; his eyes direct, cool, blunt, unreadable as he looked at her.

Even so, his presence felt heavy.

Ayla thought of saying something, but held back. She simply pointed toward her parking spot.

He didn’t release her until they reached the car.

Ayla moved to the driver’s seat, but Draven said, “You’re sitting in the passenger seat.”

There was no room to argue.

Only then did he let go.

Ayla climbed into the seat beside him.

Draven got behind the wheel and held out his hand for the keys.

He rested one hand on the wheel, reversed, and pulled out smoothly.

He drove the same way he did everything-controlled and steady. Ayla’s driving was the opposite: fast, sharp, aggressive. Sitting in her own car should’ve calmed her, but she just turned toward the window, watching the night blur by, her mind looping back to the two lines he’d murmured at her ear.

Draven’s voice was low, deep, like a cello.

She remembered every shift in tone.

“I’ll agree.”

Simple enough.

“But how much do you plan to use me for?”

That one left a question mark.

She only intended to use Draven to irritate Troy. If Troy lost his temper, Draven could stand in his way, and she would stand beside Draven, claiming her space. That alone would make Troy choke on his own

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Tue, Dec 30

Chapter 101 Holding Hands

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rage.

If Troy was angry, Ayla would enjoy every second.

And then, just like that, Draven laced their fingers.

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