My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage
Chapter 190

“Hold on there, darling.

Where are you runnin’ off to? We’re just tryin’ to be friendly,” one sneered, his breath reeking of beer and cheap cigarettes.

Suppressing the instinct to gag, Elizabeth lifted her chin.

“My husband’s waiting for me just up ahead.”

The taller man scanned the dark street, his smirk widening.

“Oh, yeah? This stretch is nothing but construction sites and abandoned lots.

You’re dressed too fine for a fella swinging a hammer.

Who’s he, the phantom foreman?”

Before Elizabeth could respond, they each grabbed an arm, their laughter slithering into the night like poison.

“Come on now,” one said.

“We’re big deals around here.

A little time with us, and you’ll be counting your lucky stars.”

Meanwhile, Elijah drove back to the inn, his jaw tight and his temper barely leashed.

The tension in his expression could have shattered glass.

When he reached his room, he swung the door open only to be ambushed by a memory—Aspyn sitting at his bedside, her words needling at his nerves.

His scowl deepened.

With a growl of frustration, he closed the door and marched back to the front desk.

Tapping the counter with enough force to catch the receptionist’s startled attention, he said, “I need a different room.”

The receptionist, fresh into her shift, quickly composed herself.

She recognized him immediately—Elijah Norris, the guest the staff had been instructed to treat like royalty.

“Of course, Mr.

Norris,” she replied, her cheeks tinged pink as she caught sight of his perfectly sculpted features.

Even with his sour expression, he was devastatingly handsome.

Rumor had it there was a celebrity staying at the inn, but she couldn’t imagine anyone more striking than Elijah.

She swiftly located the best available room and gestured for him to follow.

As they headed down the hallway, the heavens opened up, unleashing a sudden downpour.

The receptionist laughed lightly.

“Looks like your timing’s spot-on, Mr.

Norris.

A second later, and you’d have been soaked to the bone.”

Elijah didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the rain as if it held answers to questions he hadn’t asked.

His thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Elizabeth.

She’d been wearing just a shirt earlier—what if she got caught in this storm? She’d get sick again…

“Here we are, Mr.

Norris,” the receptionist said, stopping at a door.

“This is your room.”

Elijah’s eyes flicked to the door across the hall.

He kept his voice casual, though his heart was far from it.

“Has the person in that room returned yet?”

Without looking up, she replied, “I’ve been here for two hours, and you’re the only one I’ve seen come in.”

She opened his door and began to ask, “Mr.

Norris, does this room meet your…”

But before she could finish, Elijah turned on his heel and walked away, his long strides taking him toward the rain-drenched street without another word.