“Ethan Caldwell, I want a divorce.”

Ethan let out a low laugh. Then he leaned down, bracing both hands on the table and boxing Charlotte Weston in right in front of him. His large hand slid over her slim waist, slow and deliberate.

In an instant, she could feel the hard heat of his body, solid and overpowering.

“What are you doing?” Her face went pale with panic.

“Charlotte Weston, are you really that desperate?” Ethan’s voice was lazy, almost mocking. “First thing in the morning and you’re already pulling this stunt. What, you want me to...” He bent close to her ear, his breath hot. “Sleep with you?”

A flash of anger crossed her face right away. Ethan was such a bastard.

In her last life, even when they were in the middle of bed, all heated up, one phone call from that mistress was enough for him to slam on the brakes and leave without a second thought.

He had despised her so much back then he couldn’t even be bothered to say one extra word, yet now he was acting all suggestive with her.

Like some stray dog starving outside, suddenly sniffing around for scraps.

“Get the hell away from me!” Charlotte shoved Ethan hard, her voice full of irritation.

Ethan’s brows snapped together. Wow, she’d really grown guts now. She actually dared put her hands on him?

“Stay away from me. Seeing you makes me sick.” She meant every word. Ethan’s true face from her last life was burned into her memory, crystal clear.

Cold, noble, untouchable on the surface. Meanwhile, behind her back, he was fooling around with her student.

The disgust on her delicate face was impossible to hide, and somehow that expression irritated Ethan even more.

In front of him, she had always been the one chasing after him. Fussing over him, checking if he was warm or cold, helping him dress, serving his meals. And now she dared give him attitude?

Ethan pressed his thin lips together. Without a word, he grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the stairs.

“Ethan Caldwell, what are you doing? Let go of me!”

Charlotte was startled by how rough he was being.

But Ethan gave her no chance to resist. His strong arm wrapped straight around her waist, and he lifted her up in one motion.

“Ethan Caldwell!”

**

Ethan Caldwell kicked the bedroom door open.

"Eth—Ethan, what are you doing? Let go of me! Ah!"

The next second, he threw me straight onto the bed.

Her head spun instantly, the whole room whirling like it had been flipped upside down. Before Charlotte Weston could even catch her breath, a broad, solid body pressed down over her.

One of his large hands pinned her shoulder in place. Ethan looked down at her from above, full of cold control, like he already had everything in his grip.

His thin lips curved into a sneer. "What? You really that cheap? You like it when I treat you like this?"

The mockery in his voice stabbed right into her chest.

Ethan had been her first love. She had met him at fifteen, and from that first glance, she’d been gone—completely, hopelessly into him.

He was three years older than her. She had chased after his shadow the whole way, studying like crazy to get into his university, then marrying him after graduation, convinced she’d finally reached the ending she wanted.

She used to think that was the start of a good life.

What a joke.

It wasn’t a beginning at all. It was the moment she stepped straight into a swamp and started sinking.

And the man right in front of her—the one she had once loved so deeply—was the same man who, little by little, shoved her into hell with his own hands.

Infertility for life. Cancer. Her parents dead.

Every bit of it had happened because she loved him.

"Hm? Why so quiet now? Enjoying yourself?" Ethan’s mocking voice rang out again, sharp and ugly.

Anger surged up in her chest so hard it almost burned. Charlotte lifted her hand and slapped him across the face with all her strength.

"Smack!"

His face snapped to the side.

That slap was hard—crazy hard.

And honestly? It felt amazing.

"Ethan Caldwell, don’t touch me. You disgust me. You’re filthy."

The man still didn’t hit her back.

He only turned his face slightly, then stared at her with a dark, icy look that made the air in the room drop several degrees.

In that split second, Charlotte Weston felt her heart go cold.

She knew Ethan Caldwell way too well. That look meant one thing—he was pissed.

He crooked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something wild and dangerous flickering in his eyes. "So this is the game you want to play, huh?"

The moment the words fell, he gave her no time to react.

His large hand shot out, clamped around her throat, and he kissed her hard.

That kiss hit like a floodgate breaking loose, fierce and overwhelming, swallowing her whole in an instant.

This was their first kiss in this lifetime.

Ethan’s kiss was fast, rough, brutal—like he was trying to break in a wild horse and force it to bow its head.

Charlotte pushed against him with everything she had, every ounce of strength in her body thrown into resisting him. But after only a few rounds, her strength drained away.

She felt like a fish flopping onshore, mouth open, dragging in desperate breaths while waiting for death to come.

Her lips were crushed and ground over bit by bit, while his big hands shifted her body into one position after another.

Ethan was like some king sitting high above everyone else, as if he held absolute power over all of her.

Her struggle, her refusal, her disgust—he didn’t care about any of it.

If he was getting off on forcing her, then fine. She’d flip the script.

All at once, Charlotte wrapped both arms tightly around Ethan’s neck, tilted her head back, and parted her lips.

Their tongues touched.

Ethan went rigid, like he’d just been hit by an electric shock.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes slightly, a clear challenge written all over her face.

The soft pink tip of her tongue carried a faint sweetness. Like a little cat, she slowly sucked at his lips.

"Ring ring..."

Right as Ethan Caldwell was yanking at Charlotte Weston’s clothes, his phone started ringing at the worst possible moment.

Both of them froze.

Ethan stopped cold. His eyes went dark, unreadable, almost scary. "Charlotte Weston, you really are pathetic."

Charlotte lifted a hand and wiped the corner of her mouth, her face full of disdain. "Takes one to know one. And seriously, Ethan, your kissing sucks. One time was already more than enough. Trust me, I’m not going back for round two."

"You wanna die?"

"Ring, ring..." The phone started blaring again.