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Without a second thought, Gia Miller went along with his line of questioning. "What?"

"In the end, most of those won reaped what they sowed. I casually disposed of them, handing them over to so second-rate directors with peculiar tastes and cashing in a favor. You have to understand, what I, Tristan Grayson, want is never sothing as simple as total ruin. When I make a move, I don’t just act—I drag them down to hell and make sure they never get back up..."

Hearing Tristan Grayson’s sinister words, Gia Miller trembled slightly. She looked at him, startled. "Tristan, you don’t suspect , do you?"

"It’s not suspicion. It’s a certainty," Tristan Grayson said coldly, a contemptuous smile on his face.

’It’s not suspicion. It’s a certainty?’ At those simple, direct words, Gia Miller trembled again. She couldn’t help but take a step back. She fought to keep her composure. "Tristan, why would I do sothing like that? Tristan, I really didn’t... use a drug."

"A drug? I never said anything about drugs. How did you know that’s what I was talking about?" Tristan Grayson stood up, towering over Gia Miller.

Gia’s heart seized up again. Panicked and uneasy, she forced an apologetic smile. "Tristan, I was just guessing. That’s not what I ant..."

"Heh... Guessing? Well, you guessed right. That’s exactly what those audacious won did—they tried to drug . But for them to think such a low-class trick would work on ... it’s laughable, isn’t it, Miss Miller?"

"Tristan, please believe , I didn’t drug you," Gia Miller blurted out, her lips white with fear.

"And why should I believe you? I don’t believe we’re well-acquainted, Miss Miller."

"Tristan, I have no reason to... drug you..."

Tristan Grayson nodded as if considering her words. "Hm, I suppose that’s true. In that case, Miss Miller, to prove what you’re saying... why don’t you drink this glass of milk?" As he spoke, Tristan Grayson pushed the glass of milk right in front of Gia Miller’s face.

Gia Miller stared at the milk, her face ghastly pale. "Tristan..." she said, her voice laced with anxiety.

"Drink it," Tristan Grayson said coldly, a hint of impatience in his voice.

Gia Miller’s expression was grim. She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes shut in agony. ’If I don’t drink, it proves I spiked the milk. But if I do... To hell with it. I’ll just drink it. It probably won’t take effect that quickly anyway.’ At that thought, Gia Miller’s eyes shot open. "Fine, I’ll drink it!"

She tilted her head back and took a large gulp, then wiped the corner of her mouth. Forcing a seductive smile, she said, "See, Tristan? I drank it. I really didn’t... put anything in it."

"Heh..." Tristan Grayson’s lips curled in disdain. He walked around Gia Miller and headed for the door.

Seeing Tristan Grayson leaving, Gia Miller panicked and hurried after him. "Tristan, where are you going?"

"Ho. Did you expect to stay here?" Tristan Grayson found her question laughable.

The drug was already starting to take effect in Gia Miller’s body. A fire ignited in her chest with nowhere to go. Throwing all caution to the wind, she rushed forward and threw her arms around Tristan Grayson’s waist, pleading softly, "Tristan, it’s so late. Don’t go ho."

"Miss Miller, I’ll only say this once. Let go of ," Tristan Grayson ground out, barely suppressing the urge to kill.

"No! Tristan, I like you. I really, really like you. Please stay with tonight. Just for one night..."

Tristan Grayson let out a cruel, cold sneer. The air around him instantly turned terrifyingly grim. With deliberate, calm movents, he pried her hands from his waist, turned, and, without a mont’s hesitation, slapped her across the face. "You’re courting death!"

The crisp SLAP echoed through the room. The force sent Gia Miller stumbling back two steps before she lost her balance and fell to the floor. She clutched her cheek, her tear-filled eyes wide with disbelief. "Why?" she choked out. "Why can’t it be ?" ’What’s wrong with ? Why couldn’t he stay with for just one night?’

In her mind, she was far more qualified than Maggie Monroe or Mika Sumrs to be his woman. Only her family’s status was a worthy match for Tristan Grayson.

You are reading Divorce, Please: The Young Master Does Not Love Me Chapter 183: Courting Death on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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