Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 106: Turning Back

Behind the bluish-white smoke was his frivolous, playful gaze.

Vera Sheridan’s eyes swept over his empty left ring finger—the wedding ring that had long been a charade, gone. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

She stood with her back straight, her gaze nonchalantly scanning the people on the sofa before finally returning to his face. Her tone was calm, even with a hint of sarcasm, "Ian Kane, are you planning to talk with me here?"

Talk about what?

Quentin Hawthorne, Jonah Langdon, and the others immediately tensed up, ready to withdraw at any moment.

This circle of people knew well: if Ian Kane’s words were an imperial decree, then Vera Sheridan’s words would be a command from the empress.

Even though the two were in the midst of a divorce lawsuit, these brothers were clear in their hearts—Ian Kane might just revert back to being infatuated at any time.

This current drama was most likely deliberately orchestrated to irritate Vera and make her persistent on getting a divorce.

Ian Kane’s lips curled into a smile, but his dark eyes remained heavily locked on Vera, his voice slow and lazy, "I don’t mind."

Vera felt a sudden constriction in her chest, her mind filled with the image of Noah Grant kissing her in that photo.

"What, do you mind?" the man followed up closely with the question.

Just after he finished speaking, he tilted his head back and downed the amber liquid in his glass in one gulp, the glass hitting the coffee table with a heavy "thud" that made the other glasses jump.

"Come here." His jawline tightened, his eyes carrying an undeniable coldness, "Pour me a drink."

As those words were uttered, Jonah Langdon and the others nearly choked on their drinks, exchanging glances, thinking: Kane is really pushing it now.

The woman in Ian Kane’s embrace smirked triumphantly, resting her head on his arm, giving Vera a provocative side-eye.

Under the astonished gaze of everyone, Vera walked over, picked up the Royal Salute on the low table, and poured him half a glass.

Ian Kane stared at her, irritably pulling another button loose on his shirt.

She was actually willing to pour him a drink in public to protect Noah Grant!

The woman in his arms immediately grabbed an empty glass, pointing her chin at Vera, "I want one too."

Vera’s gaze turned cold, sweeping towards Ian Kane.

Ian Kane remained expressionless, only staring at her silently.

Vera understood.

He was indulging this woman, humiliating her together.

She slammed the bottle down on the low table with a "thud," "Ian Kane, if we’re not talking, then I’m leaving."

With that, she turned to go.

The woman immediately looked crestfallen, pouting her seductive red lips, gazing at Ian Kane in grievance.

Ian Kane’s deep black eyes were locked on Vera’s determined back, his tone icy, "Vera, is this your attitude? Fine..."

Vera paused mid-step.

She heard the threat in his words and knew well what he was capable of when he went crazy.

She quietly clenched her fingers and turned around.

The woman in Ian Kane’s arms was overjoyed, immediately pushing an empty glass towards Vera and raising her chin even higher, "Hurry up."

The air instantly froze.

Jonah Langdon and the others were almost popping their eyes out—Ian Kane used to treat Vera like his treasure, and now he was indulging the women outside to have her pour drinks?

Was he determined to self-destruct, or... had he given up on Vera?

Vera’s face betrayed no emotion.

She didn’t look at Ian Kane, only silently picked up the bottle of Royal Salute, tilted it slightly, and slowly poured the cold amber liquid into the woman’s glass.

The movement was smooth, even elegant, showing no signs of distress or grievance from being put in a difficult spot.

The woman’s lips curved into a victorious smile, reaching out to take the glass that symbolized her "status"—

"Leave."

Ian Kane suddenly spoke, his tone indifferent, expressionless.

The woman’s face froze in an instant, looking at him in shock, "President Kane?"

Ian Kane didn’t look at her, his gaze casually sweeping over the crowd, his fingertips tapping leisurely on the sofa armrest, his voice carrying an unquestionable detachment, "Everyone out."

Jonah Langdon and the others felt relieved, not daring to stay a second longer, pulling the still-recovering women with them as they almost poured out in a stream.

The heavy door closed with a "click," sealing off the hubbub.

The room suddenly quieted down, leaving only the soft background music flowing.

Vera stood silently, still holding the bottle of Royal Salute.

She looked down at the man on the sofa.

Ian Kane sat back, head down, frowning as he lit a cigarette.

Against the flickering light, his profile was sharp and cold, as if the order to clear the room had nothing to do with him.

Vera set the bottle down on the low table with a "thud," her voice tense, "Ian Kane, what exactly do you want?"

The smoke spread, fragrant.

Ian Kane lifted his chin, his deep black eyes locking onto her with an icy scrutiny:

"What do you think?"

—To force her to turn back.

Vera understood.

The air was tense.

She still couldn’t fathom how Ian Kane had gotten hold of that photo.

During the failed procedure, when she was suffering from an infection and fever, Noah Grant had kissed her in the hospital room.

Upon seeing the photo, she was also finally sure that he had really kissed her back then.

Just when their divorce was set in stone, he used this to force her back!

Vera gritted her teeth, "Ian Kane, the judge has already ruled in court."

Sitting on the sofa, Ian Kane, with his legs crossed, the blue-white smoke blurring half his face, only left the faint curve of an ironic smile at the corner of his lips as he glanced at her, pulling out a document from under the cushion next to him, tossing it onto the low table in front of her.

Just as the divorce decree was about to take effect, this incident had become Ian Kane’s lethal leverage to force her back!

Vera’s jawline tightened, and she almost ground out her voice from between her teeth, "Ian Kane, the judge has already ruled in court!"

Sitting on the sofa, Ian Kane leisurely crossed his legs, the bluish smoke obscuring half his face, leaving only a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He glanced at her with a cool look, leisurely pulling out two neatly bound documents from under the cushion beside him.

"Bang!"

With a flick of his wrist, the documents fell lightly onto the low table in front of Vera.

Vera lowered her eyes, two documents, prominently labeled with "Withdrawal of Divorce Petition" and "Settlement Agreement"!

"Ruling?" Ian Kane flicked the ash from his cigarette, a chilling sneer escaping his nose, "Sign it, and I’ll pretend that glaring photo never existed."

He stood up, walked over to her, an air of suffocating pressure.

Vera subconsciously took a step back.

Ian Kane stepped forward, leaned in, and suddenly blew a mouthful of thick white smoke into her face!

The pungent smell instantly choked Vera’s nose and mouth, blurring her vision.

Through the smoke, the man’s sharp gaze glared at her:

"Or else..." his lip curved into a cold smirk, every word ground out from between his teeth, "guess what would happen if those predatory political opponents of The Grant Family got hold of this ’virtuous’ Second Young Master Grant, uncontrollably ’kissing’ a comatose—’married woman’—photo..."

He emphasized the words "married woman," pronouncing them forcefully and harshly, as if branding them into Vera’s bones and blood, reminding her whose person she belonged to!

The next moment, he gripped her pointed chin.

"Vera, your ’upright gentleman’ Senior Brother’s illustrious future, family honor—" his tone grew even colder, "are now in your hands!"

As he spoke, his coarse thumb rubbed her lips with a sense of torment, his mind filled with the image of Noah Grant kissing her.

These lips, he had never kissed them.