No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 488

No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I’m Done!

Chapter 488 The Wrong Car

“No thanks.” Amelia refused without a second thought.

She didn’t want any more financial entanglements with him–none whatsoever.

Finished

A shadow of disappointment passed through Ethan’s eyes, but he pressed on. “It’s hard to get a ride out here. I’ve already arranged a car. Let me have you driven home.”

Amelia was about to turn him down again, say she’d just call a car herself.

After all, Mason was at home, with her favorite cake, waiting for her to walk through the door.

She didn’t want to make him wait a single second longer because of anything related to the Rowes.

But before the refusal could leave her lips, a sleek black sedan glided up in front of her without a sound and came to a smooth stop.

The rear window rolled down, and a man in a driver’s uniform leaned out, addressing her respectfully. “Excuse me, are you Ms. Harlow?”

Amelia blinked, then nodded.

“Mr. Everett arranged for me to pick you up,” the driver said. “He mentioned your phone might be dead. and he couldn’t reach you, so he sent me here to wait.”

The driver’s face was unfamiliar–not the one she’d seen Mason use before.

But her phone was smashed, and she had no way to call Mason to confirm.

Besides, the man had known her name and Mason’s. It had to be legitimate.

Standing off to the side, Ethan’s entire demeanor darkened the moment he heard “Mr. Everett.”

He looked at the expensive sedan and the polished, professional driver, and whatever was left of his resolve to insist on driving her home evaporated on the spot.

Right. She had a new life now. She had someone who sent private cars to pick her up.

What right did he–the ex–husband–have to keep showing up in her world?

He stepped back in silence, and that single small movement felt like drawing a line between himself and Amelia that could never be crossed again.

Amelia thanked the driver, opened the door, and slid inside.

The door closed.

Through the window, Amelia could see Ethan still standing there alone, his tall frame set against the somber backdrop of the cemetery, looking impossibly desolate.

But her heart didn’t stir. Not even a little.

9:55 pm

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Chapter 488 The Wrong Car

Finished

The car hadn’t gone far, however, when Amelia’s senses picked up on something wrong.

There was a smell inside the car–faint, but unmistakable. Cigarette smoke.

It was old, the kind that had seeped into leather seats and upholstery over the years, embedded so deeply that no amount of cleaning could fully erase it.

Amelia’s brow furrowed without her even realizing it.

Mason was obsessive about cleanliness, with standards for his personal space that verged on militant.

He didn’t smoke, and he despised the smell of cigarettes.

The very first non–negotiable requirement for any private driver he hired was that they be a non–smoker, and his vehicles were to be completely free of any odor.

So there was no way he had arranged this.

A terrifying thought ripped through Amelia’s mind like a bolt of lightning.

The distant relative who had crashed into her and shattered her phone…

This unfamiliar driver in a car that reeked of old smoke…

It was all too convenient. Too perfectly timed.

Her head snapped up toward the rearview mirror, and her eyes locked directly onto the driver’s–cold, flat, completely devoid of emotion.

He was watching her, too.

In that instant, Amelia’s heart plummeted.

She’d been tricked.

This was not a car Mason had sent for her.

The realization sliced through the fog in her brain like a blade, sending ice flooding through her limbs.

Her heart hammered against her ribs so violently it felt like it might claw its way up her throat.

Her fingers instinctively tightened around the strap of her handbag.

What now?

Confront the driver? Start screaming?

No. That would be the worst thing she could do.

Amelia forced herself to stay calm.

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Chapter 488 The Wrong Car

Finished

She glanced at the rearview mirror again. The driver stared straight ahead, expressionless, focused on the

road.

She did not doubt that if she showed even a hint of panic right now, she’d only tip him off and put herself in far greater danger.

Whoever was behind this had gone to elaborate lengths–staging a collision, destroying her phone, then impersonating Mason’s people to lure her into this car. There was zero chance they’d let her slip away easily.

Any rash move right now could lead to consequences she couldn’t undo.

She had to keep it together. At least on the surface.

Amelia slowly leaned back into the soft leather seat, willing her body to relax.

She turned her head toward the window, pretending to admire the passing scenery while her eyes darted rapidly, scanning everything outside.

Fortunately, the Rowe Estate cemetery wasn’t in some remote stretch of countryside. The road they were on was still well within city limits–traffic flowing steadily in both directions, pedestrians everywhere.

That was her window.

She cleared her dry throat and spoke as naturally as she could manage. “Hey, would you mind cracking a window? It’s a little stuffy in here.”

Through the rearview mirror, Amelia could feel the driver’s gaze sweep across her face, quick and appraising.

Her heart leapt into her throat, but her face remained a mask of calm indifference. She even let a slight, pampered frown crease her brow, playing up the part of a high–maintenance woman who simply found the air disagreeable.

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