Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game

His woman was not at home with him now but had gone to a concert. She sat right in the middle of the audience below the stage, dressed in red, her skin so fair it seemed to glow under the lights. Her long hair was slightly curled and loose. She was even more stunning than the female celebrity guests Jack Smith had invited, practically becoming the focus of the entire audience, so the camera intentionally gave her several shots.

Her seat must have been the most important one, and that spot would easily lead people to speculate. Comments on the screen were already raising questions.

Who is she? How did she get that seat...?

She’s so pretty, is she Jack’s girlfriend...?

Amazing, she’s absolutely beautiful, fitting for our Jack...

Atlas Hallow closed the live broadcast on the computer screen and entered the website of the brand of the scarf that Charlotte Miller had brought back that day. It was easy to see that all the advertisements inside were shot by Jack Smith. This year, Jack Smith’s popularity was soaring, endorsing several major international brands, and the scarf Charlotte brought back that day was endorsed by Jack Smith.

So does this mean she has been with Jack Smith these past few days?

If he wanted to investigate Charlotte Miller’s whereabouts, it would be very easy, but he hoped to give her three days to think it over. He was wondering if perhaps it was really just because she lost their child and the blow was too much for her, causing an emotional outburst momentarily. He did not expect that she was really entangled with another man. His large hand slowly clenched until his knuckles turned white, the roughness and whiteness looking a bit frightening.

The concert was lively, the stage design was beautiful, and Jack Smith performed energetically. He even ripped his clothes during his appearance, causing the girls in the venue to scream until the entire night sky was boiling, but Charlotte Miller sitting below the stage didn’t have much feeling. By the time she walked through the VIP exit after the concert, dragging her tired body, and returned to the Hallow Family, it was already very late.

Walking up the marble stairs into the foyer, she glanced instinctively at the sofa where Atlas Hallow often sat. He wasn’t there; perhaps he hadn’t returned yet, or maybe he was already asleep.

The bedroom lights were off, but there was a faint scent of tobacco wafting from the corner of the room, and in the darkness, a tiny red glow flickered — he had returned and was in the bedroom?

Charlotte Miller reached out and pressed the bedroom light switch, and all the lights came on. She saw Atlas Hallow sitting on the armchair in the bedroom, not having changed into home clothes, still wearing the black suit he had worn out earlier in the day. His long, distinct fingers held a cigarette, light smoke drifting from his mouth, and on the armrest of the sofa sat a small crystal ashtray, already filled with cigarette butts. Seeing Charlotte return, he absentmindedly took a drag from the cigarette and asked in a low voice, ”Where were you tonight?”

The man’s voice was like a vast ocean, calm on the surface yet filled with countless undercurrents beneath.

Charlotte Miller walked in slowly, the thick carpet muffling her footsteps. She looked at Atlas Hallow and replied, ”Went to a concert.”

”Whose concert?” Atlas Hallow’s deep voice rose slightly, containing a repressed anger.

Charlotte Miller looked at Atlas Hallow and already noticed that his expression was somewhat off.

She bit her lip and boldly met his gaze, ”Jack Smith’s.”

There was only this one concert tonight, and there was no point in lying to Atlas Hallow.

”Oh... Concert tickets are probably expensive, right?” Atlas Hallow’s voice began to take on a dangerous edge, as if pushed to the edge of a cliff, one could hear the piercing yet bone-chilling wind...

”Very expensive.” The seventh row costs already ten thousand, so wouldn’t the center of the first row be more than fifty thousand? Charlotte answered truthfully.

”You dare lie to me?” Atlas Hallow looked at Charlotte Miller’s impatient expression, his gaze sharp as a knife, cutting through the air towards her.

”Lie about what? It’s indeed very expensive.” There’s nothing to lie about; Jack Smith’s tickets are not only expensive but also impossible to buy now. Charlotte didn’t even want to say more to this man. She was so tired that she just wanted to take a bath and sleep, even not wanting to bathe.

She headed to the dressing room but hadn’t walked two steps before being pulled by a tremendous force and thrown onto the sofa...