Hailey Tang froze for a moment, her brows furrowing. "What exactly do you want from me?"
Ethan Yu stood stone-faced. "Where did you go?"
"Times Square," she replied, arms crossed, chin up.
"Where did the flowers come from?"
Hailey hesitated for a beat. "I… bought them myself."
Too late.
Ethan's expression shifted slightly, his eyes sharpening with suspicion. "So someone gave them to you. A man?"
"I said I bought them!" she snapped, voice tightening.
But she didn't even believe herself.
She didn't know why—maybe it was instinct—but something told her not to tell him the truth. Not this time. It felt… dangerous.
Ethan didn't need proof. He'd already jumped to the conclusion and strapped himself in.
His voice dropped, icy and sharp. "I'll ask again. Who gave you the damn flowers?"
Hailey's eyes flicked away. She pulled her wrist back with a twist. "That's none of your business! Let go of me. I'm tired—I want to sleep."
"Hailey Tang—" Ethan's tone dropped into a growl. "Need I remind you, we're still married? And you're out drinking with other men, accepting their gifts like it's nothing?! What do you take me for?!"
Hailey blinked in disbelief. "Wait, what? I didn't even drink—"
Then she remembered.
The smell of alcohol clinging to her wasn't from drinking—it was from the fight earlier, when that sleazy guy spilled beer on her while she was kicking him where it hurt.
But she didn't feel like explaining.
"And so what if I did?" she said angrily. "We're getting divorced, aren't we? What I do is none of your business anymore. You don't own me—mmph!"
Her protest was cut short—
Because Ethan kissed her.
Hard.
Her eyes flew wide open. He had one hand locked behind her head and the other crushing her against his chest. His mouth was forceful, his kiss punishing and raw—like he wanted to burn his mark into her soul.
This wasn't affection.
It was fury, it was desperation, it was every twisted thing he didn't know how to say.
Hailey thrashed in his hold, trying to push him away, but he held her tighter. Her lips ached. Her jaw burned. Her chest pounded with rage and disbelief.
And then—
SMACK!
The slap rang out, loud and final.
Ethan's face jerked to the side, red blooming across his cheek. His head turned slowly back toward her, eyes blazing.
Hailey stood there, chest heaving, her hand still raised. "Don't you ever touch me again. I don't want anything to do with you. If you ever try that again, I won't be this polite."
For a second, Ethan didn't move.
No one had ever dared hit him before.
She hadn't just slapped his face—she'd bruised his ego, shredded his pride.
The air crackled between them.
Then he slowly straightened his collar and gave her a freezing look. "You're right. We're not compatible."
When she loved him, he pushed her away.
Now that he wanted her, she slapped him in the face.
Fine.
He wasn't the type to beg.
His voice dropped, low and final. "From now on, we have nothing to do with each other."
He didn't wait for her reply.
He turned and walked out, cold and decisive.
Hailey didn't hesitate. She ran to the door and slammed it shut behind him. Locked it twice.
Then she stood there, panting.
Her hand still stung.
But her lips… her lips were still tingling.
Outside the suite, Ethan paused in the hallway.
He'd heard the door slam. Heard the locks click.
He didn't look back.
He walked away—shoulders stiff, fists clenched.
And across the hall, from the shadows of a supply alcove… someone stepped out.
Lin Xin'er.
She had seen everything.
And she was smiling…