Billionaire’s Rebirth Wife

In astonishment, I raised my eyes. I mean, how could it be? Why did I meet him here?

“Donald? “Why are you here?”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I saw his story on TV as I walked out in the morning. He was still in the middle of an interview at the time.

“Come with me.” He took my hand in his and returned to the sidewalk.

I followed him to a secure location. On the side of the road, I noticed a luxurious RV parked. IRA sat in the driver’s seat and gave me a friendly nod. “You and IRA come out to do business?” I asked gently, looking at Donald.

“I’m here to collect debts,” says the man.

“Debt collection?”

“Someone did something wrong to me last night while she had a fever,” Donald stated without changing his expression. “I’ve brought all the proof with me.”

With that, he drew his collar down, revealing a series of kissing marks on his neck.

In disbelief, I opened my eyes wide. Are these my works of art? My face flushed as I remembered mistily taking him as an Emos the night before, “I, I didn’t mean to…. Please accept my sincere apologies…. Last night, I may have been perplexed. “Don’t take it too seriously….”

“You think an apology is over?” “I didn’t expect you to be crueler than those ungrateful folks outside who finished fucking and fled with their pants,” Donald said as soon as he opened his mouth. Others will at the very least reward you….”

“Remuneration?” My brain is in a mess, “you mean…. Money? I’m penniless now, and your identity is so noble, I really can’t take out….”

“Then be accountable to me till the very end.”

To the end, responsible???

I couldn’t believe it when my head went blank. “Am I accountable for you?” I asked, pointing to myself.

“Otherwise? “Would you like to default?”

“No, I don’t….” I never thought I would owe such a debt.

“If you’re not responsible for me, I’ll make last night’s images public.”

“What? Photos? “Did you photograph me in secret?” In my head, there was a void. “Donald! How are you going to profit?”

“Who profited from others’ vulnerability?” Last night, I made it crystal apparent. I’ll take pictures if you don’t stop. It’s you who have to continue. What can I do?”

what?!

I’m suffering from a severe headache. Is it true that I was such a jerk last night? No!

I’ll still have the bottom line even if I go insane!

“First and foremost, calm down! Last night, there was only a misunderstanding….” “Well…. What stage did we go to last night?” I heard him snort bitterly, his intellect a jumble, and he questioned shamelessly.

“How do you feel?” He inquired coldly.

“Me? “I’m sorry, but I don’t recall!” I’m a bit worried. In the first half of last night, I still have some impression, and in the second half, I have no idea! I shouldn’t have done anything after seeing Donald so enraged.

“You’ve reached the point where you must be accountable to me!” He cut me off in the middle of my thoughts.

What? What?

To put it another way, he and I both completed the final stage.

Oh, my goodness!

Donald, I can’t believe I slept him!

You know, he’s the president of the lion group, and how many women dream of being on the Forbes wealthy list for six years in a row?

How could I have done such a blunder!

I deserved it, despite the fact that I had lost myself! It’s all because of me! I fucked national hubby? If this information becomes public, will I be cut hundreds of times?

“Last night, I told you to stop. Why did you continue to act in such a careless manner toward me?” He muttered.

“Uh, I I apologize profusely….” To make atonement, I continued bending my head.

“I told you don’t touch me.” Why are you doing that to me?”

“I…. I’m not sure….”

“Let’s get in the car and settle this account gradually!”

I was so annoyed by his tall figure sitting in the car that I wanted to wake myself up last night. How could I have done such a blunder? He’s got the proof. Why is it all in his hands?

I reluctantly climbed into his car. “Mr. Donald, I was wrong last night….” was my first sentence.

“Eat.” “You’re not qualified to talk to me until you finish eating!” he said impatiently as he struggled to locate a food box.

I sat uncomfortably. I couldn’t think of anything to say to calm him down. My stomach shouted out as the aroma from the food box wafted out. In the morning, I didn’t eat anything. It was noon, unconsciously. I was starving to death.

Forget that; eat first, and then slowly converse with him thereafter!

Regardless of the appearance, I devoured it.

“I’m done, Mr. Donald.” “Do you want to talk about the photos?” I’m genuinely concerned about the image coming out.

“There are more important things to do now than photos.” He looked at me carefully as he reached out to wipe the salad off the corner of my mouth.

I felt like an electric shock as I watched his face move closer and closer to mine, staring at me immobile.

Is there anything he wouldn’t want to do to me?

No

This is in the car, He approached me.

My heartfelt like it was about to leap out of my chest!

“You won’t be able to remove the bandage without my permission the next time.” He raised his eyes and motioned to the doctor after noticing the injury on my head.

With the pharmaceutical box in hand, the doctor rushed up to me. “Your wound hasn’t healed yet, Miss Trista.” “I’ll re-bandage you.”

My face is sweltering. Is it necessary to bandage the wound?

Isn’t he going to kiss me?

I was relieved to see Donald recline on his sofa. Fortunately

In my heart, I reprimanded myself: I put my hand over my face and rebuked myself: worthless! What did I think? When did I turn so ferocious?

“Do you think it’s hot?”

“Perhaps…. I….” Last night’s fever…. “It hasn’t died down yet….” I was scrambling for an excuse. Why is it that the more I lie, the hotter I get?

It’s difficult to wait for the doctor to bandage my wound.

“Well…. The dinner has been finished, and the head has been bandaged,” I answered uncomfortably. “Do you want to talk about the photos?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

You’re the devil!

“Can you explain me what you want me to do?” I asked, not daring to annoy him for the time being because I didn’t know how many images he had in his hands.

He didn’t answer to me as he looked through the documents in his palm.

I sat closer to him, uncomfortably. “Did you hear me, Mr. Donald?”