Chapter 137: Chapter 137: Attorney Miller, Is This Considered Domestic Violence?

Noelle Sutton found it laughable.

Everything was so obvious. Who needed his explanation?

She was suddenly a little thankful. That day he had ordered a cake for her, coaxing her to the point where she had almost decided to give him another chance.

Who would have thought he and Joshua Lawson would be the ones to pour cold water on her, completely extinguishing the last shred of fantasy she held for this marriage.

This man before her was so damn hypocritical.

His feelings for Sophie Hughes had already been exposed to her, yet he was still putting on such a serious act.

’Does he really think I’m an idiot?’

Noelle’s red lips pressed into a thin line. She raised her hands and signed, "I have nothing to ask. Please get straight to the point. I’m very busy and don’t have time to waste with you."

Tristan Lawson continued to smoke, his deep eyes flickering in the swirling blue haze.

The man’s thin lips parted as he spoke nonchalantly, "I offer you an explanation, but you refuse to listen. So, you want a divorce. The problem isn’t with me, it’s with you, right?"

Heh.

’The way his mind works is truly something else.’

"Think whatever you want," Noelle signed, her gestures sharp with irritation. "If you don’t want to discuss the divorce, I’ll have my lawyer discuss it with you."

Tristan’s pupils contracted.

’Hugo Sterling really has a long reach.’

’He even hired a lawyer for her.’

’More and more people want us to get a divorce.’

Tristan’s narrow eyes fell upon Noelle.

She was beautiful.

As beautiful as a flower.

The moment she showed her face, she attracted a swarm of buzzing bees.

’And to think she’s mute, too.’

"I’ve warned you, Hugo Sterling isn’t as simple as you think. Haven’t you considered why he’s helping you hire a lawyer?"

Tristan exhaled a puff of smoke and continued, "Do you really think he’s helping you just because your grandmother was his grandfather’s first love?"

Noelle was very displeased. She signed angrily, "Only someone with a twisted mind would assume others are just as twisted."

Tristan scoffed. "You really are naive. Fine, I won’t talk about Hugo Sterling. Let’s talk about us."

The last time he had tried to explain the issue between him and Sophie Hughes, he had to leave because Sophie had fallen and hurt herself.

’Since she’s angry enough to demand a divorce over a misunderstanding about Sophie, she must still care about me.’

That was why he was willing to endure the harsh things she was saying today.

"When it comes to ’us,’ there’s nothing to talk about except divorce."

Noelle’s attitude was firm and cold.

"I’m running out of patience hearing you talk about divorce all this time." Tristan’s cigarette was nearly burnt out. He crushed it into the ashtray. "From the moment I walked up to you seven years ago and decided to marry you, I never once thought about divorce."

That was a scene Noelle could never forget.

It was like a dream.

The man she had secretly admired for so long suddenly walked up to her, gently and firmly telling her it was love at first sight and that he wanted to marry her.

He had asked if she would marry him.

There was no ring, no roses, and no kneeling on one knee.

But to her, it was still a proposal that made her heart flutter.

Now, all that remained was sorrow and regret.

"Don’t you talk to me about seven years ago! You don’t have the right!"

An icy chill radiated from Noelle’s beautiful eyes, and her signs were like heavy, silent screams.

Like a fool, she had been a shield for seven years, covering up his feelings for Sophie Hughes.

Tristan pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

’She embarrassed me in front of outsiders, and I tolerated it.’

’She broke my mother’s heirloom, and I tolerated that too.’

’I compromised time and again, trying to talk to her calmly, but she just throws temper tantrums one after another.’

’Does she really think I have no temper at all?’

Tristan abruptly stood up, slung Noelle over his shoulder, and strode straight into the bedroom, ignoring her struggles.

He threw her forcefully onto the bed.

Tristan immediately loosened his tie, leaned over her, and used it to bind her wrists.

Noelle’s legs thrashed wildly, so he used his own to pin them down.

He didn’t stop until the knot was tied.

In his anger, Tristan used great force. The tie, which had no give, dug painfully into Noelle’s wrists.

He faced her, gripped her jaw, and said coldly, "Is it fun, trampling on my pride?"

’He was the one who trampled on her pride, trampled on her sincere feelings...’

With her hands bound, Noelle couldn’t respond to him at all.

He grabbed her collar with both hands and ripped it open.

All the buttons on her blouse were torn off, exposing the flesh-colored bra beneath.

A huge sense of shame washed over her.

She tried to kick, but Tristan pressed her legs down firmly.

He had held back for so long; the pent-up frustration was unbearable.

Every time, they only went halfway. He didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He tore the stockings under her skirt. The person beneath him was terrified and tense, the corners of her eyes already red.

Her fragile, pitiful appearance made him want to bully her.

A fire seemed to burn in his lower abdomen, radiating intense heat.

He missed the harmony they shared when they were intimate.

Suddenly, his violent, domineering actions softened.

Each time, he had to take a long time to let her adjust. If he was too hasty, he was afraid of hurting her.

He lowered his head and sealed her lips, his kiss gentle and lingering, trying to soothe her tense body.

Her jaw was held fast by him; she couldn’t even muster the strength to bite him.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—

A knock came from outside.

Tristan released Noelle’s lips and spat out a single, irritated word: "Who?"

"Sir, it’s me, Mrs. Miller. The pipe in the guest bathroom burst, and the room is flooded! I’m worried it will leak into the basement!"

Tristan got up.

The basement was right below the guest bedroom.

Directly above his collection.

Tristan instantly lost all interest. He untied the tie binding Noelle’s wrists.

Noelle immediately pulled the blanket over herself, covering her disheveled body.

Tristan frowned and shot her a cold glance. He elegantly zipped up his trousers, straightened his clothes, and opened the door to leave.

Mrs. Miller hurriedly followed Tristan to the guest bedroom.

Seeing the room full of water, Tristan said in a low, cold voice, "Don’t you know to turn off the main water valve for the house?"

"Yes, yes, I’ll go turn it off right now."

Mrs. Miller quickly ran out of the villa. The main water valve was outside.

Mrs. Miller stood by the main valve for a while. Only when she saw Noelle come out of the villa did she bend down and turn it off.

Noelle raised her hands, made two fists, extended her thumbs, and bent them twice.

"Thank you."

Mrs. Miller could understand such a simple gesture.

Mrs. Miller smiled back at her.

Noelle waved goodbye to Mrs. Miller.

She had lived here for seven years, and she used to be the one who managed all the household affairs.

The pipes in the house were all made of the highest quality materials; it was impossible for them to burst.

’Unless it was deliberate.’

This wasn’t the first time Tristan had tried to force himself on her.

From now on, she would never again believe him about "negotiating" the divorce.

Noelle returned to her small apartment and added Attorney Miller on WeChat.

She noticed bruises forming on her wrist.

So, she took a picture. Just then, Attorney Miller accepted her friend request.

Noelle sent the photo to Attorney Miller, along with a message.

[Attorney Miller, these are the marks left on my wrist after my husband tied them with a tie. Does this count as domestic violence?]