Chapter 4

Isabella's arm hurt from Vincent's tight grip. She struggled hard to break free, but it was useless.

"Vincent! Let go of me!" she shouted with all her strength, her voice tinged with suppressed emotion.

Vincent turned a deaf ear, completely ignoring Isabella's voice.

Even the temperature around them seemed to drop because of his anger.

Isabella gritted her teeth hard: "Vincent! We're getting divorced, you can't treat me like this!"

Vincent's eyes flashed with rage.

He tried his best to hold it back, saying in a magnetic voice: "Divorce? As long as I haven't signed the papers, you're still my wife!"

Isabella let out a cold laugh: "Your first love is already back. Are you planning to make her your mistress?"

The word "mistress" hit Vincent's ears. He immediately flew into a rage. Looking down at Isabella's revealing clothes, he scooped her up in his arms and strode toward the lounge next door.

Vincent threw Isabella onto the couch.

Vincent closed the door and even locked it.

He shook his wrist and said, "Don't worry, no one will come here. You can change your clothes in peace."

Isabella rubbed her sore arm: "Change what clothes?"

"Change into something modest! Who are you trying to seduce, dressed so sexy!"

"You're still part of the White family, don't go out and embarrass us!"

"Vincent! You bastard!" Isabella's face flushed red as she cursed at him.

She quickly covered her chest.

Vincent stared straight at Isabella's hem, her upper thighs flickering in and out of view as she struggled.

He swallowed hard and rushed forward to undress Isabella.

Isabella kept struggling, but each struggle only made her body curves more obvious.

Vincent's gaze fixed on Isabella, gradually heating up.

Isabella, who used to wear no makeup and dress plainly every day, had now become so bright, sexy, and attractive.

Isabella was like a flower in full bloom, unconsciously catching Vincent's attention.

His Adam's apple rolled gently, and his heartbeat quickened involuntarily.

"You're not allowed to dress like this anymore!"

Isabella smiled contemptuously: "What right do you have to control me?"

"You've already brought your mistress home, but I'm not allowed to find other men?"

Isabella's words struck deep into Vincent's heart, and his anger instantly surged.

Vincent couldn't control his actions. Furious and humiliated, he lowered his head toward Isabella's lips.

Isabella turned her head away in horror, desperately trying to avoid him.

But Vincent domineeringly grabbed Isabella's chin and forced a kiss.

Isabella immediately backed away sharply, rubbing her lips repeatedly with her hand.

"Vincent! You're disgusting!"

But Vincent, like a crazed lion, kissed her frantically again.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

Freya's voice came through, soft and weak.

"Is anyone in there?"

"I've been looking for the changing room forever. Can I come in and change?"

Freya's voice was like a bucket of cold water thrown on the heated and intimate atmosphere.

Vincent suddenly snapped awake and stood up abruptly. The look in his eyes as he glanced at Isabella instantly changed.

The mockery in Isabella's eyes became even more obvious, and the coldness in her heart was about to freeze into ice.

"You let me go the moment your mistress arrived?"

"Who was the one controlled by lust just now?"

Vincent walked to the door with a cold face, anxious to open it.

Freya smiled brightly at Vincent, then tilted her head with a pretend surprised look.

But actually, her hands were already clenched tight.

Today, she happened to be having dinner with friends at this same restaurant. Hearing that Vincent was also here, she wanted to say hello. Then she heard from a waiter that Vincent had entered this room, and he had brought a woman with him.

She never expected it would be Isabella!

Freya put away the unnatural expression on her face and looked at her with feigned gentleness.

"Isabella? You're here too?"

Freya naturally walked to Vincent's side and gently took his arm.

"Vincent, what were you two doing in the room?"

"Do you have something you need to discuss with Isabella privately?"

Vincent's expression softened somewhat: "Nothing much, just having a private chat with Isabella."

"Do you need to change clothes?"

Freya smiled gently, lightly touching her skirt: "I especially wore a haute couture dress today to match you."

"But just now, some red wine accidentally spilled on my dress. I was worried about finding a place to change, and then I ran into you."

Vincent immediately looked down nervously.

"The red wine actually adds a nice touch."

"It's fine, it's not convenient to change now anyway. I think it matches your beauty perfectly."

Vincent stared straight at her.

Freya blushed shyly and leaned against Vincent: "Vincent, you're so bad. Isabella is still here. How can you say such things?"

Vincent snorted with slight disdain.

"So what if she hears?"

Isabella's heart suddenly sank; her gaze was coldly fixed on Freya and Vincent.

She straightened her clothes, preparing to get up.

But Freya looked Isabella up and down.

Then she looked down at her own clothes and sighed.

"Isabella, didn't anyone teach you during all these years I was away?"

"Maybe Mom and Dad were too busy and didn't have time to tell you these things. They taught me from a young age to wear appropriate clothes for appropriate occasions."

Vincent frowned. Though he said nothing, he clearly agreed with what Freya said.

His face showed clear disdain.

Isabella said nothing, just wanting to leave.

But Freya wouldn't let it go: "You're a housewife dressed like this coming to see Vincent. You can't help him with anything, and it's easy for others to think you're clueless."

"It might even make people laugh at Vincent."

Freya sighed softly, her tone exceptionally gentle, but every word was humiliating Isabella.

Vincent put his arm around Freya's waist.

This gesture completely showed his support for Freya.

"Isabella, you should just stay home from now on. A housewife should stay home, cook more, and manage household affairs."

"You don't like me, out in public every day, having to handle so many social relationships."

Freya gently touched her dress: "Dressing like this is actually quite uncomfortable. You have to maintain your figure at all times, and be careful not to get such an expensive dress dirty."

Vincent looked down at Freya affectionately, "Even if it gets dirty, it doesn't matter. No matter how expensive, we can just buy another one."

This sweet scene pierced Isabella's heart.

Isabella had never seriously dressed herself up. She finally wore a dress once, but Vincent almost tore it off her.

She straightened her clothes and looked up.

She looked Freya up and down and said with a smile, "You don't look like someone with a heart condition. Otherwise, how could you go out and socialize with Vincent?"

"Is your heart disease fake?"