The Divorced Billionaire Heiress novel Chapter 1884

Chapter 1884 Divorce or Separation

Lance was feeling anxious and complicated inside. He called home, but the maid was the one who answered the call.

“Is Madam home?”

The maid said, “No, didn’t Madam go to the office to look for you?”

She was just wondering about it.

Lance said, “Let me know when she’s home.”
“Yes, sir.”

Lance let out a deep breath after hanging up the phone.

Yvette overheard his conversation with Whitney earlier.

‘Would she overthink things?’ Lance thought. Whitney’s words earlier were very harsh. However, since Lance just found out about his mother’s ploy to get rid of Whitney, he felt indebted to her and just let her keep venting her grievances.

Thus, he did not retort.

Who knew that it would be such a coincidence? Lance looked at Yvette’s phone number and fell into deep thought. ‘We were just being intimate this morning. Yet now, our relationship is about to be over so soon? I don’t want it to end, and I can’t let this end...’

He no longer had the mood to go back to work. Thus, he drove next to the sidewalk to look for Yvette, heading toward their home.

Yvette walked alone on the sidewalk. After a while, she somehow wandered to the entrance of a bar.

Tattle Bar.

Yvette had not been there for a long time.

She pushed the door in.

The bar was not yet open.

The manager went over to take a look. “Ms. Quimbey, why are you here now?”

Even if they were not open, the manager did not dare to kick customers like Yvette out.

“You haven’t visited us for a long time. The wine that you kept with us last time is still here. You can sit at your old place, and I’ll get someone to sing a nice song for you.”

The manager was trying to suck up to her.

After all, they did not know what they have done for the great Ms. Quimbey to stop patronizing them. Without her, the business was not great. Yvette pursed her lips and sat on the bar. “Sure! Get someone to sing. I don’t want a private room. Right here will do.”

The manager was ecstatic.

He immediately called the resident singer to come over.

“Ms. Quimbey, what would you like to hear?”
“Whatever.”

“What would you like to drink?”

“Whatever.”

Yvette bowed her head, and she was ina sullen mood.