The Ex-husband Wants to Get Power Every Day After the Divorce - Chapter 405 - 402: Fire Pit

“The harder I try to hate you, the deeper I fall for you.”

His presence irked her to the core, but whenever he got out of her sight, she missed him?!

….

A tyrant, known to be the city’s infamous playboy.

As an executive assistant, she was forced to work under him by the most cruel twist of fate.

If losing her job overnight was a nightmare, then working under a boss like Desmond Fort was hell. He was an arrogant narcissist with an ego bigger than the whole of Imperium city, but that was not what angered her the most.

The most infuriating fact was that despite his constant assholery, her heart seemed to stupidly skip a beat every time he gazed at her with those devilishly charming eyes.

She knew she was making a mistake but that didn't stop her from sinking deeper and deeper into his charm.

All she wanted now was to leave! But leaving hell was not nearly as easy as getting in.

As a virtuous wife, does it include tolerating his cousin, enduring his concubines, bearing his mother?

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

Xiang Shaoyun is the young master of an influential and powerful sect and is blessed with an extreme latent talent in martial cultivation. From talent comes confidence, and from confidence comes a declaration to give all the so-called geniuses a head start of ten years before catching up to them.