My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Let’s Get A Divorce

Editor: Henyee Translations

"Night shift at DL?" Damien frowned slightly, clearly not understanding why he would suddenly be heading there.

Seeing the confusion on his face, Cecelia explained, "Aren’t you a model at DL?" She hesitated. "I think your stage name was... Zeke?"

Could this be something he didn’t want people to know? The thought crossed her mind. But on the morning they registered their marriage, he had casually walked out wearing what she had assumed was his work uniform.

Damien paused. Then it clicked. The coat he’d thrown on without a second thought had somehow become proof of his profession in her mind.

What kind of conclusion was that?

He was the president of Vaughn Group. The heir to Veridia’s most powerful family. Did he really look like some handsome nightclub model making money off his appearance?

Just as he was about to correct her, the vehicle suddenly jolted violently.

THUMP.

The truck swayed. The steering wheel jerked sideways.

Fortunately, Cecelia wasn’t an inexperienced driver. She tightened her grip on the wheel and calmly guided the vehicle toward the shoulder. A few seconds later, the truck came to a controlled stop.

"I think we have a flat tire." She immediately opened the door. "I’ll check."

Rain poured down relentlessly as she circled the vehicle. It didn’t take long to confirm the problem. The front-left tire had blown. Given the age of the truck, she wasn’t particularly surprised.

Luckily, there was a spare tire and a full set of tools in the back. Returning to the passenger side, she opened the door and lightly tapped Damien’s shin.

"We’ve got a flat." She pointed underneath his seat. "The toolbox is under there." Then she added, "Can you pass it to me?"

Rain hammered against the windows. In just a few moments, Cecelia was already soaked. Damien frowned. "You’re going to change the tire yourself?"

"I’ve never done it before." She shrugged. "But I’ll figure it out." Then she held out her hand. "Hurry."

After taking the toolbox, she retrieved the spare tire from the truck bed and rolled up her sleeves. Then she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh." Opening the driver’s door again, she looked at Damien. "I forgot the hazard lights." She pointed toward the dashboard. "Can you switch them on? I’m not very good at this, so I don’t know how long it’ll take. If you’re in a hurry, you can leave first." She handed him the umbrella. "Take this."

Damien’s gaze swept over her. The rain had completely soaked through her white blouse. The fabric clung to her skin, almost translucent. The outline of her undergarments was faintly visible beneath it. His throat tightened. He looked away immediately. Grabbing the umbrella, he stepped out of the truck.

"The rain is too heavy." He glanced at the traffic rushing past. "And visibility is terrible." Then he said firmly, "Call roadside assistance."

Of course, Cecelia already knew that. But roadside assistance wasn’t free. At this hour, the emergency service fee would be even higher. She had only just started earning a little extra money. The last thing she wanted was to spend it all on a tire change.

"It’s fine." She knelt beside the wheel. "I’m already soaked anyway." Without looking up, she added, "If you’re in a hurry, just go." Then she got to work.

She had come straight from the office to the market stall. Her white blouse was tucked into slim black trousers. Now both were drenched, clinging tightly to her body.

Completely focused on the task, she never noticed that she was facing away from Damien. Or that the position emphasized her long legs and curved figure far more than she realized.

Damien stood there silently. Watching. Then he felt something unfamiliar.

A rush of heat. A reaction.

Since that night four years ago, no woman had stirred his interest. Not even Claire. Not even when she’d been standing right in front of him earlier.

So why was this soaking-wet woman kneeling beside a truck suddenly having that effect on him?

He needed to leave. That much was obvious. But he couldn’t leave her here alone. The rain was too heavy. The visibility was too poor. One careless driver, and she could be seriously hurt.

After a long moment, Damien rolled up his sleeves. Then he walked over. He held the umbrella over her head, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to her feet.

"Hold this." He handed her the umbrella. "Watch for traffic." Then he crouched beside the tire. "I’ll do it."

Cecelia instinctively wanted to refuse. But when she met his gaze, she found herself stepping aside without argument. She tried her best to keep the umbrella over him. It didn’t help much. The rain soaked through his clothes within minutes.

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