Madam, Your Ex-Husband Is On Call

Chapter 28

Chapter 28 You Should Start Using Your Brain More

Before the driver could finish, Jaxon had already exited the car. He was clad in an elegant black outfit,

exuding a cold and noble demeanor. His deep eyes held a hint of mystery, and his forehead had a Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

minor scrape.

That was all.

With a subtle nod, Jaxon displayed a mix of courtesy and politeness, though it seemed genuine rather

than a mere formality.

"Sorry to trouble you, Ms. Graves," he said.

Anastasia nodded and then led him to her car.

She drove the car, and Jaxon chose the front passenger seat instead of the back.

With only a small distance between them, she could catch a whiff of his warm yet cold scent, making

her feel slightly uneasy.

A brief silence then fell between them.

Jaxon turned his head to look at her with a gentle and friendly smile, appearing amiable with a hint of

friendliness. "Ms. Graves, I don't know why, but I feel a connection with you from the moment I laid

eyes on you. Perhaps this little accident must be fate bringing us together. How about joining me for

dinner?"

Anastasia arched her eyebrows slightly and smiled, casually responding, "Mr. Stanford, we are

business partners. Helping each other is only natural. There's no need to be so polite."

He could tell from her polite refusal that she wasn't interested, and he wisely didn't push further.

Shortly after, they arrived at the hospital.

Anastasia assisted in finding a doctor, and they were led to a VIP section, which was relatively quiet.

She then stepped outside and called Derek.

Just after she hung up the phone, she heard the sound of high heels approaching from behind.

Anastasia turned around, and there was Beatrice, looking stunning as ever, though her eyes were

slightly red and puffy.

As she stared at Anastasia, her eyes reddened even more, feeling the intense resentment almost

ready to burst.

Beatrice angrily confronted. "Why are you here? If it weren't for you instigating people online to attack

me, my son wouldn't have gotten sick. You, Anastasia, you wretched woman! If anything happens to

Charlie, Christian won't let you get away with this. Give me my son back!"

Her emotions overwhelmed her as she rushed forward, clutching Anastasia's clothes tightly and not

letting go.

Anastasia scowled and coldly pushed her away, yelling, "Get away from me!"

Anastasia mused, "Just being touched by her makes me feel disgusted!"

However, Beatrice suddenly dropped to her knees the next second, sobbing uncontrollably, and

pleaded, "I beg you, Anastasia, please forgive me. Please go online and clear it up. It's not true what

they're saying. I admit it's my fault. Please don't let my child be involved in this..."

The way she suddenly shifted her attitude made Anastasia instantly realize the reason.

The sound of footsteps behind her caught her attention, and as she turned her head, she saw Christian

with a stern look and Brian with eyes widened in surprise.

Just as Beatrice was about to grab Anastasia's clothes to continue her act, Anastasia swiftly bent down

and forcefully yanked her hair backward.

The forceful pull nearly tore apart Beatrice's scalp, and the pain turned her cries into agonizing

screams.

Fear filled her eyes as she looked up and immediately sought Christian's help.

However, Anastasia didn't release her grip. Instead, she forcefully slammed Beatrice's head against the

nearby wall.

A loud thud then echoed, and Beatrice's voice immediately stopped, causing her whole body to

tremble.

The entire ordeal took less than three seconds.

Anastasia finally gave in to her disgust and forcefully let go of Beatrice, patting her hands together. Her

gaze turned icy, with a dangerous grin formed on her lips.

"Did you think I'd play along with your little act, Beatrice? You should start using your brain more, and

maybe you'll have a chance at living a bit longer."

Her little trick was an attempt to gain sympathy from Christian through Anastasia.

Anastasia mused angrily, "If that's the case, then it has to be miserably convincing! I'll give you what

you want!"

Having regained her senses from the excruciating pain, Beatrice sat on the ground, looking utterly

miserable, and turned to Christian, complaining, "I just wanted Anastasia to forgive me. I know I was

wrong, sob..."

Christian's brow furrowed with coldness, and his eyes remained indifferent.

Before Beatrice could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by a sneering laugh that echoed from

the room beside them.

"Hey, look over here. It's all over now..."