Chapter 163
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 163:
Eric raised an eyebrow, his fingers drumming lazily against the table. âDid you drag me down here just to play the silent game? Do you think I have time to waste?â
Hadley took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to meet his. âI have not.â
âWhat?â
Eric paused for a beat before smirking. âHave not what? Youâre speaking in riddles.â
She knew he was playing with her on purpose.
Why was he always like this?
Did he care about her?
Not a chance. Not in this lifetime.
Maybe it was just because they hadnât divorced yet? But that was a weak excuse. Their marriage had been dead for four years, nothing more than an empty husk.
Still, Eric wanted answers, and if Hadley wanted her freedom, she had to provide them.
Hadley furrowed her brows and spoke carefully. âThe question you asked and the answer youâre seeking⦠I have notâ¦â
âYou have not what?â Eric refused to let it go.
He suddenly stood up, leaning in close, his breath warm against her skin.
âTell me.â
Hadley bit her lip, frustration and embarrassment warring inside her. âI have not been with other men!â Was he satisfied now?
âOh,â Eric said, as if it had finally clicked, but then his voice dropped an octave. âYouâre not lying to me, are you?â
Hadley stared at him, startled, shaking her head. âNo, Iâm not lying.â
Eric let out a slow, icy chuckle.
Without warning, his hand shot out, grasping Hadleyâs chin and forcing her to look at him. She flinched slightly.
He ignored her reaction, his voice cold and sharp like a blade against stone. âYou said it, and I will believe you. But if I find out youâre lying, you wonât like the consequences.â
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âNo!â Hadley gasped, cold sweat forming on her back. She shook her head. âI am not lying.â
âGood.â
With that, Eric released her. âLetâs go.â He turned and walked ahead.
Behind him, Hadley let out a shaky breath, clutching her chest.
âHurry up!â
âI am coming!â
Outside, Eric yanked open the passenger-side door, shooting her a look.
Eric gave her a pointed look as she moved toward the back seat.
âSit in the front.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Ericâs expression darkened. âDo I look like your driver? Do you think youâre that important?â
Hadley frowned. âThatâs not what I meant.â
âThen take the front seat!â
âAlright.â
With little choice in the matter, Hadley acquiesced. Eric didnât have a chauffeur; he was behind the wheel himself. As she settled into the passenger seat, an uneasy feeling crept over her.
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.
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