"If you don't want to, forget it," I added calmly. "I can find someone else."
The moment I finished speaking, she grabbed my wrist.
"Who said I don't want to?"
She looked straight at me, her expression unusually serious.
"But let me be clear first, Young Master Mcmillan—if you marry me, divorce is not an option."
...
One step on the accelerator later, Leila drove me straight to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Afterward, she took me to a hotel, helped me clean up, and changed me into fresh clothes. Then, with careful yet slightly clumsy movements, she began blow-drying my hair.
Not long after, my phone suddenly lit up with a message from Tyler—followed by a livestream link.
[Ivan, actually, when Rachel accepted my sperm last time, we didn't go through the hospital at all.]
[We did it just like this—on that very boat.]
[And after she got pregnant, she became even more insatiable with me~]
My heart skipped violently. My fingers trembled as I tapped the link.
On-screen, on the marital bed in the villa, Rachel and Tyler were entwined, completely lost to the world.
Between labored breaths, Tyler asked, "Me or Ivan—which one makes you feel better?"
Rachel frowned. "Why mention him at a time like this?"