How to Train Your Ex-Billionaire novel Chapter 38

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Winifred's words were like daggers, piercing Yvan's heart.

He took several long drags from his cigarette, but it did nothing to ease the pain.

Winifred walked out of the private room with a steady gait, then immediately hurried into the restroom.

She hid in a stall, and the tears she'd been holding back finally fell.

Yvan, why are you still trying to stir things up with me?

Winifred hated him for trying to flirt with her when he knew she was married, but she hated herself even more. Why, after seven long years, did her heart still beat for him?

Yvan was nothing but a player.

Winifred wiped her tears and waited until she had calmed down before leaving the stall.

She splashed water on her face, but her eyes were still red and swollen.

She didn't care. She walked out to the front desk and took out her bank card. "Hello, I'd like to pay the bill for private room 106."

The receptionist took the card, checked the system, and handed it back. "Ma'am, the bill for room 106 has already been paid."

"Paid? Who paid? When?" she asked quickly.

"It was paid by Mr. Brown. He has a membership card with us, and the amount was automatically deducted from it," the receptionist explained with a smile.

Winifred froze, then started walking back toward room 106, only to stop halfway.

No, my eyes are too red. He'll get suspicious if he sees me like this.

Winifred took out her phone to call Yvan, then realized she didn't have his number.

She had insisted on treating him to this meal as a way of thanking him. What was the meaning of him paying for it?

Winifred bit her lip, took a pair of sunglasses from her purse, put them on, and steeled herself to walk back into room 106.

He still cares whether I call him Yvan or Mr. Brown? He had only treated her like a casual fling, so why was he acting so sentimental?

"Mr. Brown, you're the one who refused my offer. Don't come back later and say I never thanked you." With those words, Winifred spun around and left.

She wouldn't fall into his trap again. She wouldn't.

Seven years ago, she had naively believed a prince could fall in love with Cinderella. But seven years later, she knew better. That kind of story only existed in fairy tales.

A man like Yvan, standing at the top of the social pyramid, could never truly love a nobody like her.

Winifred ran out of the restaurant and didn't stop until she was far away. She bent over, gasping for breath as tears streamed down her face again.

She thought of the child, the one who had never had a chance to live.

If it hadn't been for Yvan's heartlessness, the child might not have died.

She would never forgive him. Never.