My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage
Chapter 91

Episode 91

No wedding, no acknowledgment.

People probably think I’m just your mistress!”

Elijah felt an unusual pang in his chest, unsure if it was sympathy, but the fleeting sensation dissolved as Sandra spat, “Elijah the Jerk.”

His expression hardened into an impassive mask as he retorted with cutting sarcasm.

“You said the wedding didn’t matter to you, yet here you are, weaponizing it.

Seems like the real hypocrite isn’t me.”

Sandra hesitated, her brow furrowed in contemplation before dismissively shaking her head.

“Hypocrite? Hardly.

I own my choices.

However, I do regret the day I handed over that twenty million.

He squandered my money on designer clothes and baubles for his darling little treasure!”

Elijah scoffed, his laugh cold.

“Believe me, your small fortune would be worthless to me, even if I hit rock bottom.”

Sandra shrugged nonchalantly.

“Bankrupt, are you? Well, join the club.

You’re quite the package, but I’m broke.

I can’t afford your upkeep, so maybe you should leave.”

Straightening, she reached for the car door, intent on stepping out.

In one swift motion, Elijah pulled her back against him, his tone clipped.

“What now? Didn’t learn your lesson the last time? Trying that stunt of jumping out of the car again?”

For a moment, Sandra remained silent, enveloped in his grasp.

Elijah assumed he had rattled her, but how logical could one expect someone drunk to be?

Sandra nestled closer to him, her sultry eyes narrowing just enough to accentuate her allure.

“You hugged me first! So, it’s not me taking advantage but you inviting it!”

Her fingers lightly grazed his neck as she tilted her head upward, her lips brushing against his Adam’s apple.

She whispered, “You smell so… wonderful.”

Elijah swallowed hard, feeling a wave of desire as his body reacted involuntarily.

Sandra, sensing the firm presence against her waist, tried to wriggle free and slurred teasingly, “It’s just too big—it doesn’t feel right.”

Her voice was provocative, more playful than critical.

“Sandra, control yourself,” Elijah murmured, his voice low and commanding.

But Sandra mischievously hooked a finger under his chin, her gaze sparkling.

“Why should I? What are you afraid of? Afraid to kiss me? Or… are you just all bark and no bite?”