Chapter 1 The First Night After Divorced

"Does it still hurt?" After an intense fight, he didn't rush to leave. Instead, he stayed behind her, holding her closely for a long while. The warmth of his breath caused a shivering sensation, starting from the nape of her neck and radiating throughout her. Kathleen Dawson pulled her shoulders in slightly. "It still hurts a bit." Even though it hurt, a sense of relief filled her heart after getting her revenge. She had finally given up her first time. It had to be admitted that this man wasn't just charming and talented. He was also incredibly attentive. That's right. On her first night after divorced Rhett Oatrun, she slept with a gigolo. Her two-year marriage came to an end when her husband, Rhett Oatrun, returned home with her pregnant cousin. "I can be gentler." As his relaxed voice trailed off, he shifted and pressed down once more. His intense presence enveloped her, making Kathleen's heart beat faster and her cheeks warm instantly. She rested her hand on his solid chest. "Uhm ... I'm a bit worn out. Can we rest for a bit?" The man lifted his handsome eyebrow slightly. "Of course. I'll take a shower." As he stood up, a faint minty freshness lingered in the air. Knock, knock, knock! The man had just put on his bathrobe and stepped out of bed when a knock sounded at the door. Cathleen's heart races. Who could it possibly be so early in the morning? Were the police raiding for pornography? Could I really be that unfortunate? Anxiously, she observed as the man approached the door, only to shut it swiftly afterward. He returned with a tote bag featuring the logo of a high-end women's clothing brand, Brivelle. "I tore your clothes last night, so this is a little something to make up for it." He placed the tote bag on the table and then headed toward the bathroom. Kathleen felt a mix of surprise and warmth. In the past, she had often listened to her best friend Maeve Spade talk about how the gigolo these days lacked principles when they catered to wealthy women, comparing them to all sorts of money-driven characters. She considered herself fortunate. Her first experience with a gigolo had led her to someone who was not only flawless in looks and skill but also remarkably courteous and refined. "Thank you!" Kathleen finally expressed her gratitude, then quickly added, "How much do I owe you? I'll send you the money." "No need, it's on me." The man responded casually as he headed into the bathroom. Kathleen glanced at the handbag in surprise, recognizing the brand Brivelle's logo. Their clothing was worth over 1,000 dollars, and he just handed it over without a second thought? This gigolo was certainly bending the rules. Did he really believe I was a wealthy woman who could be taken advantage of? Or perhaps the clothes were just counterfeit? Splash, splash ... The sound of running water from the bathroom broke into Kathleen's wandering thoughts. A tall silhouette appeared in the frosted glass, unclear yet sparking limitless fantasies. Recalling the intense battle they had just experienced, Kathleen's cheeks became even hotter. At this point, the bravery she had mustered from a night of drinking had dissipated, and the minor issues of reality were cycling through her mind, filling her with remorse over her hasty actions that night. In her attempt to release her frustration, she ended up sleeping with a gigolo while drunk. She pushed through the bone-splitting pain throughout her body and stood up, pulling clothes from the tote bag. She found a white chiffon blouse and black pants. These resembled the office outfit she had worn the previous night, and they fit her perfectly. Surprised, she glanced back at the bathroom. She couldn't help but admire the man inside a little more. She was surprised by how excellent the service was on the bed, and the attention to detail beneath it was equally impressive. Not wanting to dwell on it too much, she quickly dressed, retrieved her wallet from her bag, took out all 800 dollars in cash, and placed it on the bed before slipping away quietly. The sound of water in the bathroom abruptly stopped, and the man emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. Beneath the towel were two long, slim legs, and above them was a well-defined chest and abdomen with no excess fat, displaying both muscle tone and strength. His facial features were striking and well-defined, with a jawline that appeared as if it had been sculpted. In the next moment, upon noticing the vacant bed with just a pile of bills, the man's smile quickly vanished. He grabbed the phone from the bedside table and dialed a number. "Find me a woman. I need all her details." "Arthur, did I hear you right? You want to find a woman?" Without acknowledging his assistant's surprise across from him, the man gave a brief explanation and ended the call. However, his attention was suddenly drawn to a splash of red on the white bedsheet. Could it be her first time? As Kathleen approached the entrance of the Oatrun Residence, she noticed a collection of familiar items haphazardly scattered at the entrance. A suitcase, clothing, skincare products, books ... All of them were hers! She hadn't returned since they got the divorce certificate yesterday, so she could only come today to collect her belongings. She was surprised they had moved so quickly! Kathleen tightened her fists and entered the living room. Her ex-husband, Rhett Oatrun, and the pregnant Paisley Monroe were seated on the sofa, watching TV and displaying affection. When they noticed her arrival, they both quickly erased the smiles from their faces.