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Chapter 142

Sylvia gathered her strength and pushed Franklin as hard as she could, and just like that, with a

splash, Franklin stumbled and fell to the tub.

He was appreciating her stunning appearance. Her change of mood was total oblivion to him.

Franklin, sitting in the tub, simply dragged Sylvia to the tub as well.

He held her waist with both of his large hands and fixed her in his hug.

There was some water in her collarbone area, her fair legs were slightly bent. She seemed to like those

delicate porcelain vases, making people unable to shift their attention. She bewitched him…

Franklin gently kissed Sylvia's face with his thin lips, "You pushed me, sweetie."

There was a very subtle trace of a sigh in his voice.

Sylvia almost doubted whether she heard it right.

Why did he sigh?

"Franklin, you seem quite enjoy wooing me after a divorce?" she said ironically.

Then the soft sigh Franklin let out faded.

His warm lips came closer, "If I want to remarry, will you say yes?"

Sylvia answered without hesitation, "No."

But Franklin was not at all irritated by her answer.

He raised his hand, tenderly touched her collarbone, and smiled in a lowered voice, "One day you will."

His deep voice sounded sexy but it was full of confidence.

He buried his head in her neck.

"You are so beautiful…" He was rather generous in praising her.

What she feared the most eventually happened.

She was turned on as the virus took control of her, and she just wanted to be closer to him.

Franklin lowered his head and kissed her lips, wildly.

He released her after a long while.

Watching her reddened face, he cracked a smile, "Why are you blushing? We've been married for four

years."

His long fingers held her head up so that she could look directly into his eyes. The steam made her

face look more shining…

Sylvia could do nothing about it.

The virus took to Franklin the most, but honestly, she didn't know why.

When Sylvia was carried out, she felt her head heavier than ever.

Her eyes were kept closed the whole time.

"I find you are more adorable and attracting after our divorce…" he sounded like he had abiding lust for

her.

Franklin had a bathrobe on, while Sylvia was lying on the bed, covered with a thin quilt, leaving only her

head on the outside.

Her long and thick lashes were flickering. She was so lovely.

Franklin gently caressed her face. He was sitting by her side. Sylvia could feel the part of the bed

sinking down.

She really didn't want to talk to him, so she kept pretending to be sleeping.

"Why are you silent, sweetie?" He placed his fingers under her jaw to raise them higher.

Her attitude made him feel like he was doing this all alone. She felt helpless.

He was so bossy and didn't even allow her to keep silent.

The warm light shed on him, adding a dreamy glow to his gorgeous face.

Sylvia's long lashes flickered, her eyes gradually opening. The virus in her was soothed.

"Franklin, I'm tired."

The virus controlled her from time to time. It made her so tired. When could she get rid of it?

"Alright, good night." He laid down by her side and locked her in his arms.

The night grew darker. Under such darkness, how many couples slept on the same bed but had

different thoughts on their minds? And how many people were unable to sleep?

In a dim room.

Tiffany slowly recovered consciousness. Her head was so dizzy and her body so sore. She stood up

with a drowsy head and looked around.

It was so dark…

She groped for the door and then tugged the doorknob. It was locked.

Fear and panic flooded through her. She shouted, "Hello? Is anybody here? Where am I? Why are you

locking me?"

She knocked hard on the door, but no one answered her.

After she went out of the café with Darcie, she was dragged into a van, and then she passed out.

When she woke up, she was here, a place unfamiliar to her. Was she kidnapped?

Out of fear, she huddled on the floor.

She was just one of the Evans. She had no money, no power, and was not favored. Why were they

kidnapping her? For what?

Suddenly, the light was turned on.

Then the door was open.

A man in black walked in with a pellet in his hand. It looked familiar.

It seemed it was the aphrodisiac she bought from the black market.

She could not help stepping back, shouting, "What do you want to do?"

"Make sure you take the pill." His voice was hoarse.

His face was covered. There was no way she could tell what he looked like.

"No. I don't want to take that." She screamed and rushed to the door, trying to escape the room.

But the man was prepared. He grabbed her arm and fixed her against the wall. His hand cracked her

mouth open and forced her to swallow the pill.

"No." she struggled as hard as she could, trying to spit it out.

But somehow he got a bottle of water and forced her to drink it.

She swallowed a lot and then it was impossible to get it out.

He shrugged her away and ditched her to the floor as if she was a rag.

She lay on the ground like a drowned rat. Her clothes were untidy, her hair messy and the front part of

her clothes, which was sticking to her, was all wet due to the water.

Tears flowed down her cheeks.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? What do you want? I can give you money."

She cried out loud painfully.

For all her life, she was the one being protected. Never had she been treated like this.

"It's too late." The man answered drily.

Then he lifted her holding her collar and dragged her out of the dark room.

She was thrown into a van.

Her hands were firmly tied by the man before she was thrown into this seat.

The van galloped under the dark night toward the city.

After a while, she felt her temperature increase and her body heating.

She could not help wriggling on the back seat to ease the pain.

But it was not enough. The heat wave came to her again and again.

Her consciousness was gradually fading.

The man in the driver's seat continued to drive as if he didn't hear anything. He did not even look at her.

The car slowly drove into the city and eventually stopped in front of a club.

The club was a famous one. Various types of people came here, good ones and bad ones, but mostly,

bad ones.

The man ditched her before the club, untied her, and left.

She was so weak that she could barely walk, but anyway she managed to walk into the club with her

flaccid legs.

She had only one thought in her mind.

Holding the door frame, she entered the club with a crimson face.

A bald man came to her the moment he saw her walking in by herself, "Where are you from, you pretty

thing?"

Her misty eyes and slightly opened mouth clearly suggested that she was drugged. The bald man

immediately got it and soon, a few men gathered around, hauling Tiffany toward a private box.

Morning.

Tiffany opened her eyes and found herself lying on a sofa in a room, with a few men lying here andnovelbin

there on the ground.

There were emptied beer bottles everywhere. It was so messy and there was even foul air in the room.

She looked around unbelievably.

With tears streaming down her face, she watched everything with blank eyes.

She could barely withstand the suffering.

Why? Why did such a terrible thing happen to her?

Tears fell down, just like her lost virginity.

Tiffany returned home.

It was lucky for her that no one was at home. There were only some servants doing cleaning jobs.

She rushed to her room and locked the door. It was not until she washed completely that her mood

became a little bit better.

She started to ponder who was screwing her. She racked her mind but nothing seemed right.

Was it Sylvia?

Except for Sylvia, she indeed did not offend anyone.

Tiffany was exhausted last night. As she was speculating, she drifted into sleep.

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