Contract Marriage: Abusive Love with Mr.CEO-Chapter 687 - 357: Extra: His Cruel Words_2

The hotel’s location is excellent; step out, and you’re on the pristine beach of HN Island. During the day, many couples sunbathe here, creating a leisurely and pleasant atmosphere. At night, though you can’t lie on the white sand, you can admire the surreal beauty here, with the night and sea mist making you feel like you’re in a fantasy.

Removing her shoes, Christine Quinn casually found a spot on the beach and sat down.

Around her, several couples flirted playfully, highlighting Christine Quinn’s solitary loneliness at this moment.

After sitting on the beach for a while, Christine Quinn got up out of boredom, ready to return to the hotel to rest.

While bending over to put on her shoes, the voices of two passing women faintly reached her ears.

"I envy Shannon so much; he seems steady and stylish, speaks excellently, and looks wealthy."

"He must be rich! Didn’t you notice his clothes are of the XX brand? How many people can afford that brand?"

"It’s a pity she chose Shannon..."

"There’s no choice; Shannon’s charm is so good."

"I fear they’ve already gone to the room now..."

"Haha... tomorrow let’s ask Shannon how talented that man is."

"Hope he doesn’t disappoint us..."

"Haha..."

Having put on her shoes, Christine Quinn glanced at the two stylishly dressed young women, her body tensing slightly.

Steady, stylish, excellent speech, wealthy, wearing XX brand clothes?

For some reason, when these conditions assembled in Christine Quinn’s mind, her first thought was of Skyler Jones.

For some inexplicable reason, upon returning to the hotel, instead of going directly upstairs to rest, Christine Quinn moved inexplicably to the hotel front desk.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" the receptionist asked warmly.

Christine Quinn smiled and replied, "I’m looking for someone: Skyler Jones, who checked in this afternoon. Can you tell me his room number?"

The receptionist apologetically said, "Sorry, our hotel doesn’t disclose guests’ privacy."

"You’ve misunderstood, I’m Skyler Jones’s wife. I just want to surprise him," Christine Quinn said, handing over her marriage certificate to the receptionist.

After glancing at it and confirming Christine Quinn’s identity, the receptionist provided Skyler Jones’s room number.

Standing before the room the receptionist mentioned, Christine Quinn remained hesitant.

She couldn’t explain why she wanted to see if it was him... perhaps because the Skyler Jones she knew was definitely not promiscuous.

Taking a deep breath, Christine Quinn reached out and knocked on the door.

Creaaak—

The door opened in response.

The person inside hadn’t locked it.

Christine Quinn gently pushed the door open, inside came some strong rhythmic dance music from Europe and America.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the loud sound, Christine Quinn frowned slightly, glancing around the room.

Suddenly, the woman on the couch in revealing clothes came into her view.

This woman wore thick makeup, exuding extreme allure, displaying feminine charm in every gesture, with a figure good enough to make men around the world drool.

She was dancing seductively to the music in front of Skyler Jones, who leisurely enjoyed it, seemingly indulging in such alluring sights.

The atmosphere inside was reminiscent of some third-rate venues, with women exerting their utmost allure and men enjoying all, which made the scene appear extraordinarily discordant.

Christine Quinn stood there, saying nothing, when the dancing woman noticed Christine Quinn.

The woman slowed her movements, casting a questioning look toward Skyler Jones.

Skyler Jones, sipping wine and enjoying, suddenly noticed the woman’s questioning gaze and then turned his face, glancing toward Christine Quinn standing at the door.

With that glance, their eyes met.

Seeing his dark, deep gaze, Christine Quinn’s heart inexplicably trembled, yet Skyler Jones merely gave Christine Quinn a glance before his gaze drifted nonchalantly back to the dancing woman in front.

Seeing Skyler Jones ignore Christine Quinn, the woman somewhat proudly approached Skyler Jones, placing her soft, boneless hand on Skyler Jones’s shoulder, swaying her body, her gaze extremely enticing...

Skyler Jones watched the dancing woman, a faint smile playing on his lips, and sipping wine leisurely.

The woman, clearly an expert in flirting, stretched out her slender hands and snatched the wine glass from Skyler Jones.

At that moment, the music suddenly stopped.

The woman hesitated in her attempt to drink the wine, unable to react before a cold female voice emerged from behind her, "Should I call the police and inform them that someone here is engaging in public prostitution?"

The woman, hearing Christine Quinn mention "husband," turned pale and immediately bounced off Skyler Jones’s lap.

Skyler Jones locked his brows slightly.

Wrapping her arms around herself, frowning at Skyler Jones, "You have a wife?"

Skyler Jones’s handsome figure leaned back on the sofa, his elegant face barely showing any change.

The woman grabbed some money from Skyler Jones’s wallet, and with her awkward posture, rushed past Christine Quinn and fled the room.

Once the woman left, only Skyler Jones and Christine Quinn remained in the spacious presidential suite.

The atmosphere was disturbingly tense, Christine Quinn’s eyes coldly fell on Skyler Jones, speaking coldly, "Becca’s marriage really hit you this hard?"

Skyler Jones remained silent, his eyes deeply inscrutable as he looked upon Christine Quinn’s cold face.

Christine Quinn mocked, "It’s a pity my sister didn’t see you venting your madness here. If she knew, perhaps she might have a grain of sympathy for you."

Skyler Jones stood up, squinting slightly, slowly walking towards Christine Quinn.

Seeing the dangerous gleam faintly flashing in Skyler Jones’s eyes, Christine Quinn’s breath tightened, her steps subconsciously retreating.

The next second, Skyler Jones seized Christine Quinn, grasping her shoulders firmly, preventing her retreat. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Facing his dark eyes, made increasingly menacing by drunkenness, Christine Quinn felt a hint of fear. She clutched his big hand on her waist but stubbornly retorted, "What’s wrong? Did I touch upon your innermost thoughts, making you feel embarrassed?"