Became A Queen After divorce

Abbie didn’t dare to speak, but she couldn’t help feeling annoyed when she heard old Mr. Foley speaking well of Cheyenne. After all, Abbie was the one who loved Kelvin the most!

“I don’t care, you have to go and bring Cheyenne back for me, or else I won’t eat dinner tonight,” said old Mr. Foley.

In one moment he was a fierce old man, and in the next he was like a child who never grew up.

But Kelvin remained cold as usual.

Impatiently he said, “I’ve told you that we’re divorced and there’s no chance of us getting back together. Grandpa, please give it up.”Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g

With that, he stood up decisively and grabbed his suit jacket before heading upstairs.

The hall was suddenly empty except for an angry old Mr. Foley and a nervous Abbie.

What should she do now that Kelvin had left?

Trying to please the old man, Abbie smiled lightly at him. “Grandpa, don’t be angry anymore. Kelvin has his reasons.”

“What reasons?” asked old Mr. Foley.

“I know Miss Lawrence is an excellent person, but I didn’t expect her to have so many men around her who seem quite close to her,” whispered Abbie while staring at her slender fingers with a slight smile on her lips.

She expected an astonished expression from old Mr. Foley followed by his disgust towards Cheyenne, but instead he laughed proudly while stroking his sparse beard. “I knew that Cheyenne was popular. Well, Kelvin is indeed not good enough for her.”

Abbie was shocked and angry at the old man’s biased comment. How could he say that Kelvin wasn’t good enough for Cheyenne? It was clearly the other way around.

“Alright, I’m getting a bit tired now. Miss Berry, please feel free to leave,” the old man said as he slowly got up from his seat with his cane.

He left the grand hall, leaving Abbie alone on the sofa with a purple face. She couldn’t leave just yet.

“Old Mr. Foley, I… I suddenly feel a bit tight in my chest. Can I sit here for a while to catch my breath?” Abbie asked as she placed her hand over her chest in an attempt to look convincing.

Little did she know that old Mr. Foley despised these delicate and weak girls who acted like they were about to faint at any moment.

But he couldn’t just kick her out either; it would be too heartless of him.

“Joe, since Miss Berry isn’t feeling well, prepare one of our guest rooms for her temporarily,” old Mr. Foley instructed before leaving.

Upon hearing this, Abbie smiled. “Thank you, Grandfather,” she said softly.

“Miss Berry, please follow me.”

The old butler appeared to be around fifty years old with gray hair and deep wrinkles on his face. He was a man of few words and even his black suit was the most traditional and outdated style.

He led Abbie up the stairs and through a long hallway. The entire second floor had a semi-circular design with red carpeting and antique pumpkin-shaped chandeliers hanging from the walls. Everywhere exuded elegance and sophistication. Even just one of the paintings on the wall would fetch a high price if sold outside.

Abbie had known Kelvin for ten years but it was her first time visiting this old mansion. She had requested to visit the Foley mansion, but old Mr. Foley never agreed to meet her before now. She spent ten years of waiting.

As they walked, the butler stopped at a room door where he turned around to face Abbie under dim light; his wrinkled face resembling deep grooves in soil while sporting an elongated scar across his forehead down to cheekbone level.

Though it had long scabbed over, it clung to his face like an ugly centipede. It looked extremely terrifying.

His voice was very hoarse, “Miss Berry, here we are.”

This was the last room in the hallway.

The door opened, revealing a magnificent sight.

The guest rooms are all meticulously decorated, so one can imagine how luxurious Kelvin’s room must be.

She persuaded herself to calm down, raised her head and glanced at the somewhat scary butler, “Butler, where does Kelvin live?”

Joe thought that Miss Berry was too impolite compared with Cheyenne. Before, Lady Cheyenne would call him Uncle Joe.

“It’s opposite your room!”

“Opposite?”

Abbie followed the direction of his finger and saw that Kelvin’s room was so far away from hers.

If she wanted to go find Kelvin, she would have to pass through this long corridor.

Just now she didn’t pay attention to the time, it seemed she had followed him for quite a while, at least five or six minutes.

‘They deliberately arranged such a room way far away from Kelvin’s for me! It’s that old man’s order, isn’t it?’

At the thought of this, Abbie was so angry that her eyes turned red, her nose felt sour, and she couldn’t hold back the tears from falling.

‘Why do they stop me from being together with Kelvin? Before, it was because of Cheyenne, but now that bitch has divorced Kelvin. No! As long as Cheyenne is alive, she will always disrupt my life!’

At the thought, Abbie’s eyes flickered with intense killing intent. She wanted Cheyenne dead!

“Since Miss Berry doesn’t have any more questions, I will take my leave. Please rest early.”

Saying this, he turned around without hesitation and left.

And on the empty corridor, only Abbie was left standing.

Her slender body leaned against the cold door panel, and her heart gradually felt a chill.

In a study room, the light was on.

The man just finished taking a shower, his short hair still wet and sticking to his handsome face, water droplets flowing down his bronze neck.

The Adam’s apple rolled extremely sexily.

He was wearing a white bathrobe, revealing a tight and sturdy chest.

His long limbs had smooth lines.

As he walked to the desk wearing a pair of slippers, his gaze naturally fell upon the potted Mimosa, which was growing very well because someone took care of it every day.

There were also pots of mimosa plants placed in the villa where he lived.

Because that woman was there, he rarely went back there to live.

However, he often saw her standing in front of the window watering flowers, with a lazy posture and a bright smile.

‘Why did I think of that shameless woman again?’

Kelvin’s face became even colder, with a hint of anger between his eyebrows.

“Bang.” He casually threw the towel in his hand onto the sofa and sank his tired body into the armchair.

Then he picked up a book from the desk and started to read it carefully.

“The Moon and Sixpence”: “All over the place was six pence, but he looked up at the moon.”

And below, there was a line of cute handwriting.

“Kelvin, he is my moon.”

His heart skipped a beat.

Was this written by Cheyenne?

How could that be possible!

But the handwriting was clearly hers.

Kelvin unconsciously rubbed the pages of the paper, making a faint rustling sound.

His deep gaze became dark with complicated emotions.