She Became Rich After Divorce by Georgina Lane

Chapter 211: Grandfather Drugged Her Kelvin had never felt so agitated before. His kind and gentle “sister” had hidden a malicious and deceitful side, and thinking back to her tears and words in the past made him shiver with fear.

"Kelvin, it's already 11 PM and Cheyenne hasn't cback yet. I saw her go to the bar with a man earlier, laughing and talking. Could she have been deceived?" "Cheyenne's backpack is really light, letcarry it instead. You work hard, Kelvin, you shouldn't have to carry her bag." "It hurts... I don't know why Cheyenne took my medicine. Maybe she was curious and thought they were calcium pills." "Kelvin, do you like her? I think I saw Cheyenne receive another man's love letter. Don't be sad, okay? I'll feel sorry for you." "This pen was handmade byas a birthday gift for you, Kelvin. By the way, on my way here, I saw Cheyenne too, why hasn't she arrived yet?" Subconsciously, Kelvin pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, holding it between his two slender fingers and lighting it with a vintage and beautiful lighter.

"Click." The blue flignited, flickering flames that illuminated his handsbut resolute face while casting an eerie blue hue over his eyes.

His consciousness drifted away as he recalled his honeymoon period with Cheyenne.

He left her hand went to Enofone with Abbie for Abbie's medical treatment; when he returned hafter one month, he even forgot that he was already married until he discovered someone else in his room upon returning for clothes.

As soon as he opened the door, the room was dark except for a red dot floating amidst shadows like an eye watching him intently.

"Who?" Immediately after that, a pair of soft hands wrapped around his waist; the scent of perfmixed with alcohol veloped his lips.

His new wife Cheyenne wearing white lace lingerie reeking of booze collapsed into his arms crying, "Why did you cback? You shouldn't have cback so as to makegive up completely!" "Get off!" He resisted her kiss while bitter smoke still seeped into their lips; it tasted chokingly spicy but also addictive somehow.

Cheyenne fell onto the bed like crazy, rolling herself up inside the blanket and laughing hysterically She cried and laughed at the stime, saying, "I don't need you to explain, as long as you cback. That's all that matters. As long as you cback." Kelvin glanced at the beer bottles and cigarette butts in his room. For the first time, he wanted to strangle a woman.

He grabbed her arm and threw her out of the door, snatched the cigarette from her mouth and threw it on the ground. His black polished shoes stepped on it to extinguish it.

His gaze was cold like a demon crawling out of hell, scaring the nearby servants.

"Who let her into my room?" "Mr. Foley, this is your wife. Old Mr. Foley said Mrs. Foley can stay..." Before she could finish speaking, Cheyenne got up from the ground with her crimson face rubbing against his arm, "We are husband and wife living together." "Husband and wife? You think you're worthy? Cheyenne, take a look in the mirror yourself! A woman like you is not worthy of being my wife! Be smart enough to be just eye candy for three years, then we'll divorce!" He still remembered Cheyenne's reaction at that moment; she leaned against one of the servants, appeared drunk but those bright eyes were looking straight at him.

Filled with grievances and despair, she stubbornly said, "Givethree years; I will make you fall in love with me." "I won't fall in love with you even within three hundred years. You better quit!" But the very next day, she continued to pester him under pretext that what was said when drunk doesn't count.

The lady's cigarette had a sweet and refreshing orange scent, and she always liked to smoke it before kissing him. Initially, Kelvin was resistant, but gradually, he grew to love the smell of the smoke. He also smoked, but only when he was passionate or feeling agitated. The billowing blue smoke obscured the man's face, making his tall figure appear blurry in the dim, yellowish light.

Emelia happened to cout from Cheyenne's room when she saw the figure in the hallway. Startled, she quickly retreated around the corner.

A maid walked past her, carrying two bowls of soup. She surreptitiously set the soup aside and took out a small white vial from her pocket, extracting a pill from it.

She dropped the pill into the bowls.

After that, the maid, with a guilty conscience, carried the bowls with the pill towards Cheyenne's room! Emelia focused her gaze and realized that the figure in the hallway had disappeared at spoint.

The half-smoked cigarette was still burning, pressed against the lid of a trash can. A faint wisp of smoke lingered in the air.

Was the maid planning to drug Cheyenne? Curious, Emelia returned to the room where old Mr. Foley and Joe were sitting with Kelvin, who had just arrived. The atmosphere was eerie. Old Mr. Foley beckoned for the maid to bring in ssoup with a smile on his face. "Isn't chicken soup your favorite, Cheyenne? Con, have ssoup before you go back. I specially ordered it from the kitchen." "Grandpa is actually the one drugging Cheyenne! Why?" Emelia was shocked by this truth. Didn't Grandpa love this bitch Cheyenne? Why would he drug her soup? As Cheyenne prepared to pick up her soup bowl, Kelvin suddenly walked over and snatched it away from her. "Letfeed you." Seemingly anticipating that things would develop like this, he stood aside with a smile and watched as they interacted.

Cheyenne coldly turned away and reached for another bowl of soup instead, "If Mr. Foley likes it so much, then let him have it! I can take care of myself without bothering you!" After speaking, she picked up the soup without caring if it burned or not and chugged down most of it in one gulp.

Kelvin's kind gesture was rejected; he almost crushed his own bowl in frustration while looking helplessly at her.

Seeing this scene unfold before him, old Mr. Foley gave him a disdainful look, "You've touched that one; who else will drink it now?" He continued, kit now?" G "Don't waste food; Kelvin, why don't you drink stoo?" When had his grandpa ever cared about his dietary needs before? He stared at old Mr. Foley suspiciously while the latter avoided eye contact with an embarrassed expression on his face.

He patted Cheyenne's long hair affectionately, “Do you want more?" "No thanks, Grandpa." She replied curtly.

"Okay then wash up first and rest early tonight; we'll talk about going htomorrow morning." "But..." Didn't they agree earlier that once her foot injury was treated she could leave right away? She had called Omari to cpick her up.

"Cheyenne, your foot is injured, so m why are you leaving now?" Old Mr Foley looked expectantly at her while pulling Kelvin and warning him, "Don't bully Cheyenne anymore. Do you hear me?" Kelvin rubbed his nose. 'I won't bully someone whose foot is injured. Grandpa is really overthinking things again..."