"Yes, I admit, that time in the United States, in that hotel, the person who slept with you was me, and the child in your womb is mine. Have you thrown away all the kindness I've shown you recently, fed it to the dogs, huh? Is your heart still thinking about Oliver Johnson?"
He admitted it, he finally admitted it himself.
Eva Miller lifted her head, her lips full of mockery.
"Luke Land, you're not worthy to mention Brother Johnson to me!"
Not worthy?
He sneered, clenching his hands into fists, struggling to control the impulse in his body. He took a deep breath and then strode out of the room.
"Keep an eye on her. Report to me if anything happens." Luke Land said to the maid outside the door, then walked into the study.
He felt irritated, with no outlet for relief.
In the past, when he felt irritated, it was easy to resolve—smoke, alcohol, and women were enough.
But now?
