How to Train Your Ex-Billionaire novel Chapter 147

Winifred went to the bank to withdraw the cash, then bought five large gift boxes, dividing the fifty thousand dollars among them.

Withdrawing the money took some time, so it was already past eleven in the morning by the time she reached Pinehill Residences.

Winifred knocked for a while before Yvan finally opened the door.

His eyes were heavy with sleep, his hair was messy, and he was wearing nothing but a loosely tied bathrobe that exposed half of his toned chest.

He hadn't even gotten up yet at this hour?

Then again, he had been calling her at two in the morning. He must have been out late.

Winifred stayed in the doorway, holding out the five large gift boxes. "Here."

Yvan glanced at them but didn't take them. He turned and walked back inside. "Come in. I'm going to wash my face."

Winifred didn't move. After a few steps, Yvan noticed she hadn't followed him. "What's wrong? Are you afraid to even step inside my house now?"

Winifred bit her lip but finally entered, sitting on the sofa to wait.

A few moments later, Yvan emerged, still in the same bathrobe, though it was tied a bit more securely now.

He looked at the five large, bulging gift boxes neatly arranged on the table, a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had only demanded the money to create a reason to see her, not because he actually wanted it. But now, it felt like their entire relationship was being calculated in dollars and cents.

Yvan picked up one of the boxes, weighing it in his hand.

"There's ten thousand in each box," Winifred said. "Do you want to count it?"

Yvan paused, then abruptly dropped the box back onto the table.

"How should I speak, then? Am I not being polite enough?" Yvan shot back, his face tense.

Winifred's chest heaved with anger, but she forced herself to calm down. "I've brought you the money," she said stiffly. "I don't want to discuss anything else with you, nor do I have to. That's it. I'm leaving."

She stood up to go, but Yvan stubbed out his cigarette, rose, and strode forward, grabbing her arm. "Winifred, you're not going anywhere."

"What are you doing?" Winifred scowled, trying to wrench her arm free.

Yvan held her tight. "Winifred, do you really think you've found true love? That Owen is a player, a liar. Don't you know he's just messing with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Let me go," Winifred said angrily, slapping at his hand. His grip was starting to hurt.

"Stop playing dumb. You were with him yesterday. If you weren't interested, why would you accept his flowers and get on his motorcycle?" Yvan's jealousy was boiling over, threatening to drive him mad. "What's so great about him? Why are you willing to give him a chance, but you're so cold to me? Tell me why!"

Yvan shook her, the red veins in his eyes becoming more prominent, making him look wild and frenzied.