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Chapter 1 I Don’t Want Money
He had already fallen asleep, his narrow, sharp eyes slightly squinting.
Damara Moore, with her sore body, carefully slipped off the bed. Her back curved into a graceful arc,
hidden by her lengthy hair, creating a vague and lovely silhouette. Just as she was about to pick up the
sc at tered clothes on the floor, a cold and indifferent voice came from
behind.
“How much do you want?”
The tone was devoid of emotion, and the intimacy from last night’s drunkenness had dissipated.
Damara’s hand, holding the clothes, froze.
It was absurd that her husband of three years didn’t even know who she
was.
Three years ago, she saved Old Mr. Robinson’s life. Coincidentally, her father’s company encountered
difficulties during its first round of financing, so Old Mr. Robinson proposed that she marry his
grandson, Abner Robinson, and he would, in return, invest three billion in Moore Group.
Abner was absent throughout the process, and it was only after the marriage certificate was signed that
she learned he had gone abroad.
In these three years, she, a wife in name only, had become the laughingstock of others.
Unexpectedly, their first meeting was in bed.
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Chapter 1 i Don’t Want Money
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“I don’t want money.”
She put on her clothes, her head in a mess from the hangover, feeling like it would explode.
“Not want money? Are you trying to blackmail me?”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAbner sneered, his gaze penetrating as he examined her head to toe.
With her fair and petite face, a well-proportioned figure, clear eyes, and above-average looks, she had
enough charm. However, that was all there was to it.
Just another woman willingly offered herself, but the difference this time was that she succeeded.
Abner retracted his gaze. “You’ll get the money, but you better not covet anything else.”
Although drunk last night, he wouldn’t completely lose control over a woman. The problem lay in the
drink she handed him.
Damara had already put on her clothes. Last night’s welcome banquet hosted by the Robinson Family
had gathered many socialite heiresses who all wanted to meet this rising business elite who had just
returned to the country to take over the Robinson Group.
She arrived late, and Old Mr. Robinson, who was still abroad, specifically asked her to come. She
originally intended to show up briefly and leave but was stopped by her father, who gave her two cups
of wine.
While Abner was back, he said it was an excellent opportunity for the two of them to have a good talk.
As a result…
Damara knew just how resistant Abner was to this marriage. How could she make him believe that
everything that happened last night was not her intention?
A self-mocking expression appeared in Damara’s eyes. She remained silent for two seconds, then
said, “Actually, I…”
The cell phone on the bedside vibrated.
Abner glanced at it and found that it was from his lawyer.
He put him on speakerphone, and a respectful male voice said, “Mr. Robinson, I’ve arrived at Ms.
Moore’s apartment, but she’s not home. Should I send this divorce agreement to Moore Group?”
Standing up, Abner approached the floor-to-ceiling window, frowning as he looked at the distant river
view. He had no impression of this wife he had been married to for three years.
His grandfather had said she had a good character, was non- competitive, and graduated with
outstanding achievements from the University of Washington. But so what?
Moore Group had already overcome its crisis, and he considered it repaying her for saving his
grandfather back then.
Abner’s tone was cold, “Contact her first and have her sign the divorce agreement. If she doesn’t know
what’s good for her, contact Moore Group…”
Damara found her phone and checked if she had missed any work messages. As she heard the words
“divorce agreement,” she was momentarily stunned. Her phone screen displayed a text message from
her father, Kent.
“Damara, did you leave early last night? Cali asked me to check if Abner drank that cup of wine.”
Damara lowered her head, “Dad, didn’t you prepare the wine?”
“Cali gave it to me. If you’re not too busy today, visit your sister at the hospital. She said she misses
you.”
Damara felt a lump in her heart and guessed it was Cali’s scheme.
Knowing she didn’t respond, Kent asked, “What’s wrong? Did you get too drunk with alcohol?”
Thinking she might feel unwell due to the hangover, he kindly offered to prepare a sobering soup.
Damara was angry, but she had to suppress her anger. Her mother had passed away early, and his
father had single-handedly managed the company all these years. It wasn’t easy for him all these
years.
And he did not remarry until her first year of college; he did not do anything wrong to her.
Damara didn’t want to reveal this matter to him, so she suppressed her discomfort, “No need, I’ll go
visit Perpetua later. Tell Cali, thanks for being so considerate.”
Meanwhile, the conversation near the window continued and shifted
to business matters.
Raising her eyes, Damara saw him dressed casually in a white robe standing in the sunlight, exuding
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏman air of ease.
He had his back to the light, and on his handsome face, one couldn’t discern any emotions. The lines
of his profile appeared especially stern, making him seem even more cold and distant, warning others
not to approach.
Damara put away her phone, turned around, and pushed the door open to leave.
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Since Abner was already planning to divorce, it would be awkward to know that he had slept with the
wife he despised for three years.
It might be better to part ways amicably.
Abner hung up the phone, realizing it was getting late and an outsider was in this room yet to be dealt
with. He turned around and looked at the silent space before him, furrowing his brows.
The disheveled bedsheet was half pulled off, and his wrinkled shirt was thrown at the foot of the bed.
The scent of red wine mixed with a lingering fragrance, creating a peculiar blend
He raised his hand to pinch his brow, and if not for that vivid red mark on the bedsheet that seemed
overly conspicuous, he might have thought the woman he saw waking up in the morning was an
illusion.
A knock on the door sounded, and his secretary’s voice, Matt, came from outside, “Mr. Robinson.”
“Come in.’
The door was pushed open, and Matt came in with a new suit. Seeing the scene in the room, he felt
puzzled but refrained from asking. He placed the clothes down and respectfully left to the living room.
Abner went to the bathroom and took a shower. After dressing neatly, he walked out.
Matt followed behind as usual. As they stepped outside, Abner suddenly paused, “Who left my room
this morning?”