The handsome and cold man saw that she still refused to believe him. His phoenix eyes, as deep as ancient wells, slowly narrowed as he spoke faintly: "When you left, the household registration book stayed with me. The spouse column has always listed me. That hasn't changed."
Delphine's whole body went weak, losing most of her strength. She looked at Ignatius Leclair, letting out a low, sarcastic laugh: "So, what you mean is, back then when we divorced, I didn't realize you had such an obsessive cleanliness streak and could only accept me? And now, I've become your tool to warm the bed? I want a divorce."
Ignatius Leclair's handsome face darkened slightly as he spoke, enunciating each word: "Unless I'm dead."
Delphine's gaze fell on his chest. This man was terrifyingly obsessive. Back then, she had only lied about having a potential lover, and Ignatius had stabbed his own chest with a knife. Now that they were still legally married, divorce was even more impossible.
