Dear Ex-wife Marry Me

Chapter 1398

Her cheeks were aflame with embarrassment, and she grabbed a piece of clothing nearby, throwing it

at his face to shield his eyes.

With a swift movement, Ian snatched the clothes and tossed it under the bed.

"I want to see you. Maja, when did you learn to do that? Maja.”

Unable to tolerate it any longer, Maja covered his mouth, only to hear him chuckle lightly and feel him

licking her palm, signaling his playful intention.

The bedroom door had been left ajar, and neither of them noticed the figure pausing at the threshold.

At the touch of the doorframe, Patric's fingers curled slightly. The sounds from inside were

unmistakable, and after standing there briefly, he silently retreated.

Back in his own room, Patric felt a seething anger spreading through his chest, as if it sought to

evaporate all the moisture from his body.

Especially Maja's soft moans, they scratched at his heart like a cat's claws. He rubbed at his temples

before punching the wall beside him.

"Eric?" He mentally called out, but Eric offered no response. Peeling off his jacket, Patric eyed the track

marks on his arms.

"Eric, you heard them, didn't you? The woman you adore is with your brother. You give them all the

clues, and do they appreciate it? You're such a coward. If I were you, I'd make sure she never forgets

me!"

Eric and Patric were polar opposites; where Eric was gentle as a stream, Patric was unpredictable as a

storm.

Now, looking at the collection of needle marks, a cold smirk played across his lips.

"Forget it. It's pointless talking to you. You never respond unless Maja is near. So, from now on, stay

out of my way!"

Another punch hit the wall, his desire to feel his bones break almost palpable. It was only after a while

that Eric's faint voice emerged.

"I've told you before, those aren't my feelings."

Patric kicked over the coffee table with frustration, "If they're not your feelings, then why do I feel suchnovelbin

rage, such disgust at the sound of those two?" Even the memory of it reignited a furious blaze within

him.

Eric remained silent.

"Eric, no one can stop what I'm about to do."

He turned coldly and made his way to the bathroom to wash the blood from his fingers, but it was then

that Eric finally spoke up.

"You should go with them to that place."

"I'm not going."

"Don't you want to know the real purpose behind the project? Maybe if you go there, meet that person,

and you'll find out."

Patric's brow furrowed; he was never good at deciphering Eric's riddles.

"Really?"

"Yes."

In an instant, Patric's fists clenched. If this person was lying to him.

Three days later.

Ian's wounds had healed enough that he didn't have to worry about them reopening, so he decided to

take Maja for a stroll around the underground combat pit.

Despite its chaos, as Phelps had said, there was a certain order to this lawless zone, a set of rules that

governed survival.

Maja paused in front of a shop, feeling a gaze fixed on her. But the crowd was too dense, and she

couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from.

"What's up?" Ian asked, his ring-adorned hand enveloping hers and lifting it to his lips for a kiss.

Ever since his wounds had healed, every time Maja was in the room, she would inevitably be pulled

into bed, and their days would blur into a haze of passion.

Worried about his non-stop indulgence today, she had insisted on getting out for a bit, hoping to avoid

repeating the wantonness.

"Nothing, I was just considering whether Phelps's men might be lurking around here already."

No sooner had she spoken than Ian moved closer, his fingers tightly interlocking with hers.

"Maja, I don't fear whoever's backing him, nor do I dread his arrival, as long as you're by my side."

He left his sentence unfinished, and she blushed at the implication. Clearing her throat, she replied, "I

know, I know. Me too."