After the Affair: Falling into a Billionaire's Arms Chapter 72

Droplets traced a path down Julian's sharp jawline, briefly lingering in the hollow of his collarbone before disappearing beneath the collar of his robe.

The lapels of his sleepwear revealed glimpses of his toned chest with each step, still adorned with water droplets that caught the sunlight, scattering tiny fragments of light like diamonds across his pale skin.

He walked into the living room and picked up a towel draped over the sofa, dabbing at his hair. His sleeve slid down to his elbow, exposing the smooth contours of his arm. 

Every movement radiated an irresistible magnetism—pure temptation.

Louisa dared not look any longer and quietly averted her gaze. But wariness immediately crept into her mind. Why had he called her over while he was showering? Surely he wasn't planning to...

"What are you standing there for?" His sudden question interrupted her chaotic thoughts.

She instinctively looked up toward him. He was looking right back at her.

As their eyes met, his gaze settled on her. "You're wearing quite a lot. Come in, close the door, and take off your clothes."

The statement left Louisa completely stunned. Without thinking, she grabbed the edge of her jacket, pulling it tightly around herself, eyeing him suspiciously. "Mr. Tudor, What exactly are you trying to do?"

Julian noticed her defensive gesture and smirked. "What do you think?"

Louisa thought: How would I know? Although he had saved her three times, even if she offered her body as repayment, it probably wouldn't be enough. 

But that didn't mean she would do it with him just to show gratitude.

Julian ignored her reaction and picked up a first aid kit nearby, opening it and taking out some supplies. 

Unexpectedly, this sight made Louisa's eyes widen even more. Could her new boss possibly have some kind of special fetish? Was it too late to run?

Julian glanced at her shocked expression and sighed. "Come here. I'm going to change your bandage."

Only then did Louisa regain her composure, slowly walking over. When he asked her to sit, she sat. When he asked her to remove her jacket, she removed it. The entire process left her somewhat dazed.

After all, who would have expected that Julian, with his packed schedule, would waste time personally changing her bandage?

He sat down on the sofa beside her. "Give me your hand."

She obediently extended her hand, resting it on the armrest, her demeanor unusually compliant compared to her usual self.

Julian unwrapped the original bandage from her wrist. The wound was healing well since she hadn't made any sudden movements in the past couple of days, though the bandage had inevitably gotten wet when she washed her face that morning.

He instructed her, "Don't get the wound wet for a week."

Without thinking, Louisa asked, "Then how am I supposed to shower?"

Julian looked up at her with a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking me?"

Louisa suddenly realized what she'd said and blushed furiously. "No, no, I just—" How could she ask him such an intimate question?

Trying to change the subject, she thought of Vivian's situation. "Um, about Vivian... I heard Caden applied for bail for her..." she said, looking up at him.

He met her gaze directly. "What, do you need my help?" His tone was casual, as if he knew nothing about the situation.

Louisa hesitated. If he was asking like this, maybe he wasn't involved after all? 

She quickly shook her head. "No need." She already owed him enough; if he helped more, she'd never be able to repay him in this lifetime.

For the remainder of the bandage change, neither of them spoke. Only their breathing could be heard in the quiet room.

When they finished, she simply said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She stood up, grabbed her jacket, and prepared to leave. At the doorway, she remembered something about work and turned back to him. "Mr. Tudor."

He turned to look at her. "Something else?"

"When should I start work?"

"Anytime."

Louisa nodded, thanked him, and left. She had always been a workaholic, and now that she was divorced, she couldn't think of anything else to do besides work. She planned to start tomorrow.

But before going to work, there was one more thing to take care of—finalizing her divorce from George. 

The cooling-off period had passed, and she had already scheduled an appointment with the court to process the divorce papers in five days.

She needed to notify George. So when she got home, she removed his number from her blocked list and called him. But no one answered the phone.

---

George had no idea how he'd gotten through the night. With no one at home to cook for him, he hadn't eaten dinner. Instead, he'd hauled a case of wine from the cellar, drinking hazily until late into the night before finally passing out on the sofa.

In his foggy state, he heard a phone ringing and jolted awake. He scrambled to find his phone.

He thought it was from Louisa. It had to be.

On the other end, Louisa was growing impatient waiting for him to answer and was about to hang up when the call connected.

Before she could speak, a hoarse, pitiful voice came through, "Honey, you finally answered my call."

Louisa thought: Wasn't she the one who called him? But she didn't bother arguing this point.

"George," she said coldly, "I remind you that we're getting divorced, and I will no longer be your wife, so stop calling me that. I'm calling to let you know I've scheduled the divorce proceedings for the 24th at 9 AM."

Her icy tone cut George to the core. His hoarse voice took on a pleading quality. "I won't go. We're not getting divorced. I don't agree to it. Honey, please come home. We can talk about any problems face to face."

Louisa grew impatient. "George, no matter how much you protest, it won't change the fact that we're getting divorced."

George remained stubborn, repeating, "No matter what you say, I don't agree to the divorce."

Louisa closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to contain her anger. Even through the phone, George could feel her barely suppressed rage.

He didn't want to upset her further, but he had never considered divorcing her. His tone became more forceful. "You tricked me into signing the divorce agreement. If I don't agree to the divorce, legally our marriage can't be considered broken."

"George, you—"

"If you really want to discuss the divorce, come home and we'll talk in person."