Chapter 162

Chapter 162

"I love you."

A low, hoarse voice made this final confession.

Immediately after, Michael thrust his cock hard again.

Isabella's whole body trembled, her body stiffening for a moment. She wanted to turn around to see Michael's expression, but never got the chance.

Who knows how much time passed, how many climaxes later, both of them were completely spent, lying tightly pressed together on the bed.

By now, Isabella's voice was hoarse from screaming, her throat dry, her body completely limp—she didn't even have the strength to lift her hand.

In contrast, Michael looked completely satisfied. Looking at the alluring appearance of the woman in his arms, his Adam's apple bobbed as he held her even tighter.

His dry palm wandered over Isabella's body. As soon as it reached between her legs, still wanting more, he thrust two fingers into her pussy roughly and began pumping them hard again.

Feeling Michael's movements, Isabella didn't stop him. Instead, she cooperated eagerly, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying it.

Sure enough, he was still the same—incredible stamina.

Watching the sun rise from the east, Michael finally ran out of energy, breathing heavily, burying his head against Isabella's chest.

Was it over?

Isabella let out a huge sigh of relief.

Don't be fooled—throughout it all, she'd looked like she was enjoying herself.

But only she knew the truth. The physical pleasure was real, you couldn't fake that, but so was the disgust in her heart.

After a while, Michael's confession echoed in Isabella's mind again.

The word "love"—such a luxury.

For him, saying it was as easy as smoking or drinking. After all, during their marriage, Michael had said he loved her more than once when things got intense during sex.

But when it really mattered, he'd abandon her without hesitation.

For Michael, whether he loved her or not didn't matter. As long as the sex felt good, that was enough. Today it was her, tomorrow it might be some other woman.

After a busy night, Isabella sat up gracefully and lightly tapped her hand on Michael's chest.

"You know about Stella's situation. Those women don't seem willing to let her go, but I think those men who hurt Stella must have hurt other people too. Could we investigate and sue them together?"

Before Isabella could finish, the air in the room suddenly turned cold, the atmosphere so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

Michael's sharp eyes snapped open, complex emotions churning in their depths.

He flipped over, pinning Isabella beneath him, his gaze burning and sharp, "So everything you did tonight was just to get me to help you investigate this?"

After all, since they'd reunited, Isabella had never taken the initiative before. Tonight with the stockings and the seduction—it was all for her friend.

Realizing this, Michael's face turned terrifyingly dark. His hand slowly moved to Isabella's slender neck, gradually applying pressure.

Sensing his intention, Isabella's whole body trembled. She quickly shook her head, "Of course not. This is just something extra. You're right—according to the contract, I should be doing these things. I'm just following the contract. What, are you unhappy about it?"

He was the one who wrote everything into the contract.

Now she was just following it. Why was he acting like this?

The hand on her neck kept applying pressure. Isabella felt deep fear.

Michael's movements didn't stop, but his heart trembled violently.

This Isabella really knew how to piss him off.

Last night they'd shared a wonderful night together. Michael felt it was the happiest he'd been in years, maybe even in his entire life.

But right when he was feeling his best, Isabella had mercilessly dumped cold water all over it.

What was she thinking? Did she really not care about him at all?

Or was she the type who would do anything to achieve her goals—seduce him today, seduce someone else tomorrow?

Rage surged through Michael's heart.

Without realizing it, his long fingers had settled on Isabella's neck.

Her neck was so slender, it seemed like it would snap with just a squeeze.

Though Michael's hand was there, he didn't actually apply force. It just rested on her skin.

He demanded again, "I'm asking you—everything you did tonight had no feeling behind it? It was just because of the contract?"

Isabella was stunned.

Feeling his fury, she didn't know how to answer for a moment.

Tell the truth? The truth would hurt the most, and this Michael probably couldn't handle it.

Lie? He'd see through it right now. Since nothing she said would be right, she might as well stay silent.

Time passed second by second.

To Michael, each second was torture.

Time was like a knife constantly cutting into him.

He was covered in wounds, bleeding profusely.

But what about Isabella in his arms? She remained silent, saying nothing.

Silence said everything. It was an answer in itself.

He suddenly got up and punched the wall.

Isabella cried out in alarm, lowering her eyes, still saying and doing nothing.

Michael laughed bitterly, "You've got some nerve."

He threw out that line, put on his clothes, and left.

The room that had been so intimate moments ago was now cold and empty, like being in an ice cellar.

Isabella's body trembled. She pulled the covers over herself, her face dark, "What's he freaking out about now?"

He knew perfectly well there was bad blood between them, that they could never go back to how things were. What was there to be angry about?

Their relationship now was just sugar daddy and mistress.

But since Michael was the sugar daddy, she had to obey.

Isabella closed her eyes. Feeling the pain in her body, she forced herself to walk to the bathroom. Seeing all those intimate marks in the mirror, her feelings were incredibly complicated.

In the past, after each time, she would stand in front of the mirror admiring the marks on her body.

To that young girl, these were proof of their love.

Looking back now, she'd been so incredibly stupid.

Fortunately, she'd woken up long ago.

Being stupid once is naive. Being stupid twice—that's just plain stupid.

People can make mistakes, but they absolutely shouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Isabella took a deep breath, took a quick hot shower, and returned to bed.

Living and dying for love every day—that's what rich people do. For someone who needs to make money, wasting time on a man is too much of a luxury.

Isabella lay down, pulled up the covers, and quickly fell asleep.

The sound of even breathing filled the room.

On the other side, Michael stared at his phone, practically grinding his teeth.