Alvera,the Revenger,Married the Billionaire

Chapter 37: Was He Your First Man?

Alvera stared at Antoine, who was holding her in front of him, her pupils contracted in shock. "Why are

you still here?" she asked.

"You were at home the whole time. Why did you lie to me? The Alvera I knew would never lie to me."

Alvera chuckled. The old her had been long dead.

She arched an eyebrow and looked him over. Fine then, there's nothing she could do if he wasn't going

to leave.

At that moment, Roland pushed open the door and saw Antoine.

As their eyes met, Antoine let go of Alvera and took a step back nervously.

"Roland..."

Roland's expression was chilly as he swept his gaze between the two of them.

It took Antoine a little while to notice that something was not right. "Roland, why did you come out from

Alvera's house?"

"Alvera?" Antoine raised his eyebrows and asked Alvera coldly, "What's your relationship with him?"

Alvera smiled. "Is this question really necessary? You should be smart enough to figure that out, Mr.

Francois."

Antoine stepped forwards and grabbed Alvera's wrist. "Roland, Alvera is my girlfriend. I mentioned last

time, I came back to bring her with me."

Roland sneered as he looked at his hand around her wrist. "Let go."

Antoine did not move. Roland's eyes were cold as he said. "Antoine, Do you have a death wish?"

Antoine had no choice but to let go of Alvera under his brother's chilly gaze. "Roland, please, let us go.

I love her. I don't think I can live without her."

Roland crossed his arms and smirked. "Then where were you four years ago?"

"Four years ago... I was wrong, Alvera, I made the wrong choice four years ago. Can you give me

another chance? I will never leave you again, I swear!"

"You will," Roland said with certainty.

"I won't!" Antoine said, raising his voice. "Never!"

"Really? I'd like to put your determination to the test," Roland replied with a disdainful smile. He

glanced at Alvera. "I'll give you three minutes to deal with this."

He left the doorstep and walked towards the car.

After Roland left, Alvera looked at Antoine and said, "I have made myself very clear. Why are you still

here?"

"Did my brother stay over here last night? Why are you with him? Alvera, are you..."

Alvera smiled. "Yes, I'm with him now."

"You..." Antoine looked at her in disbelief. "Alvera, have you gone crazy?"

"Why do you say that? Your brother is every woman's dream husband. I was just the only one who

managed to get him."

He grabbed her shoulders with both hands. "Don't say that, Alvera. I know you. You're not like this. Tell

me what happened. Did he force you into this? Alvera, I know I'm not a match for him now, but we can

leave anytime you want."

"Leave?" Alvera asked incredulously. "Why would I leave a rich, eligible bachelor like Roland to be with

an incompetent man like you? I'm not dumb."

"Stop it, don't talk like that." Antoine pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "Alvera, you don't know

how hard it's been for me all these years. Please don't hurt me like this."

How hard it had been for him? She really had no idea, but she knew how hard it had been for herself.

...

They were both selfish people who could only see about themselves.

"Antoine, your brother is watching us from the car," Alvera reminded him. "You know you're not a match

for him, so you'd better let go of me now."

Antoine's body stiffened. "He was the one who took you away from me."

"You're wrong." She pushed him away forcefully and took a step back, keeping a distance from him. "I

was the one who seduced him."

...

"You... why did you do that? Did you forget how he put you in prison four years ago?"

"I seduced him exactly because of that," she said. "He should be taking responsibility for that.

Moreover, he's quite manly, you know..."

"Slap!"

Antoine slapped her in the face.

The sound of the slap was so loud it left her eardrums buzzing.

She was stunned for a moment before bursting into laughter.

When she looked up at him again, her gaze was cold and indifferent.

Realizing what he had done, Antoine clenched his fists, his expression full of regret.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Alvera, I must have lost my mind. I just don't want you to say such hurtful things. You're

better than this."

"Antoine, for the last time," Alvera said calmly, "I've changed. Leave me alone, and don't come here

again."

After that, she turned around to leave and got into the car.

Behind her, Antoine slumped to the ground dejectedly, looking at his palm with regret.

As he watched he car leave the house, he raised his hand and slapped himself hard.

...

He shouldn't have taken out his anger on Alvera, and he hated the fact that he couldn't do anything to

save her.

As the car sped down Ocean Road, it was so quiet they could hear each other breathing.

Alvera opened her bag, took out a piece of candy and stuffed it into her mouth.

She crossed her arms and stared out of the windows, trying to calm herself down.

Roland pretended to study some documents as he waited for Alvera to say something.

Finally, he closed the file and said to the driver, "Stop at a pharmacy on the way."

"Yes, sir."

Ten minutes later, the driver stopped in front of a pharmacy.

"Go and get some ointment for her."

"Yes, sir." Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

As soon as the driver left, Roland turned to look at Alvera.

"Was he your first man?" he asked.

Alvera's heart sank as he glared at him angrily.

"What? Are you angry because I'm right?"

"Why is it so important to you? You don't have to touch me if you're so disgusted."

"You ..."

Roland had just realized that the ex-boyfriend Alvera had mentioned was Antoine.

Alvera like Mexican food, and he recalled that time when Antoine hired a Mexican chef.

If Antoine had not left the country because of his mother four years ago, they would still be together

today.

The thought annoyed Roland.

"You're my wife now, so keep away from Antoine Francois," he warned her. "You will bear the

consequences if you continue on with him."

Alvera smiled. "Then you need to talk to your brother, Mr. Francois. I can only guarantee that I won't get

back with him."

"You guys were hugging each other at the door just now, don't do that again."

Alvera raised her eyebrows. "This is not something I can control. I think you know very well that a

woman's strength is no match for a man's."

"So, if he wants to sleep with you, you won't refuse?"

She gritted her teeth and smirked. "I will... try my best to resist him."

"Try your best?" Roland looked at her coldly. This woman was infuriating.

The driver came back, but as he opened the door and tried to get in, Roland snapped at him coldly,

"Leave the car. You can get a taxi back."

It took the driver a couple of stunned seconds to realize he was talking to him. He promptly handed

over the ointment Roland had asked him to buy and left, closing the door behind him.

Alvera looked at him, trying to figure out what he was trying to do.

He turned to her angrily. "Try your best to resist?"

As he spoke, he leaned forward slightly.

"You... What are you doing?"

"Show me how you would try your best to resist, then. Are you really resisting, or will you just struggle

half-heartedly?"

"Here? Are out of your mind? We're on a public road!"

Alvera pressed herself into the car seat, trying to back away from him, but Roland pinned her down.

"Alvera, the windows are tinted. No one can see what's going on from the outside."

He was already kissing her as he said that.

She tilted her head to one side, "Roland Francois, you're insane!"

"Go on, try your best to resist me."

Alvera gritted her teeth as she thought of the crowded road full of pedestrians.

A luxury car shaking wildly in the middle of the road... that would be a strange sight so early in the

morning.

"Fine, Roland, I surrender, I'll resist with everything I've got," she yelled. "I will resist Antoine if he tries

anything with me!"

...

...

"Just everything you've got?"

"I won't let him touch me. Absolutely not, okay?"

Roland stopped and asked, "Was he your first man?"

Alvera clenched her fist and looked at him.

"Speak."

"No, he's not."

"Have you been with a lot of men?"

Roland felt that there must be something wrong with his hormones, because every time he thought

about other men touching her, he was furious.

All he could think about was, "This woman is mine. Nobody else can touch her."

Alvera stared at him. She was still pinned under him, unable to move.

She knew that he wouldn't let go of her until she answered his question, because she could already

feel his reaction.

...

She hesitated for a moment before answering, "Antoine never touched me. You are the second person

to do it with me."

"Then who was he first?"

"He's dead."

Her eyes were hard with determination. "He died a cruel and tragic death."

That was what she imagined for that man, and it was the only way she could vent her anger about him.

...

"Now, can you let me go, Mr. Francois?"

Roland smiled and let her go. "Alvera, here's a piece of advice for you."

Alvera looked at him, not knowing what he was going to say.

"Hide your weaknesses. Don't let anyone take advantage of them, or you will be vulnerable."

She frowned and looked at him in confusion.

Roland opened the tube of ointment that the driver had bought and glanced quickly at the instructions

before squeezing out some cream onto his hand and turning around to apply it on her face.

...

Alvera backed off warily. "I can do it myself."

Roland put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her closer to him.

"Don't move. Let me do it."

She couldn't believe that he was actually helping her with the ointment himself. Alvera averted her

gaze.

They were so close to each other they could almost smell each other's breaths.

"Remember, don't let anyone raise their hand against you. Only the weak will let people hit them

passively."