the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart
Chapter 137 How long have you been with Griffith Squire?

Chapter 137: Chapter 137 How long have you been with Griffith Squire?

Delphine was embraced by the man, her nose filled with the cold scent of mint. She paused, unsure of what to say, maintaining her usual silence.

Ignatius Leclair waited for a long time, and when he saw the woman in his arms remain as unyielding as an unfeeling stone, a flicker of disappointment and melancholy flashed through his deep phoenix eyes.

The man let go of her, opting instead to carry her into the car.

Delphine was caught off guard and quietly asked, "What’s wrong with you?"

Ignatius furrowed his brow, his thin lips pressed tightly together, then lowered his gaze and pressed his hand to her slender waist, moving to undo her top.

Delphine’s expression shifted slightly as she reached out to stop his burning hand, softly saying, "Don’t."

They were so close to the film crew here. No matter how reckless Ignatius behaved at home, she could endure it, but here—not here.

The man lowered his head, his face so perfectly handsome that it seemed almost unreal. His warm breath brushed her delicate face, and when he saw her turn away, her butterfly-wing-like eyelashes trembled gently, as if they were fragile butterflies—beautiful yet ready to shatter.

Ignatius’s heart stirred, and he lowered his head to kiss her eyes.

Delphine closed her eyes, the strength in her hands weakening under the tenderness of this unusually soft kiss. The man had already lifted her white T-shirt, taking it off, then released her and gazed at the scar on her shoulder.

Her skin was rarely seen so pale and exquisite, like top-quality white jade, except for the shallow scars on her shoulders—a remnant of an old wound.

The warmth of her skin lingered by his side, and Ignatius’s breathing grew heavier as he struggled to focus solely on the scars on her shoulder.

Delphine saw him caressing the scar on her shoulder, his palm burning like fire. She wasn’t daring enough to move and softly offered an explanation, "When I was in the depths of the forested mountains, I was bitten by a venomous snake. At the time, I had to cut a cross-shaped wound with a knife to clear the poison, and it left this scar."

As she recalled those events, she closed her eyes slightly, her face paling uncontrollably. Her deepest fear had always been snakes—being bitten was just a momentary ordeal. Half her body immediately went numb, and it was Griffith Squire who later drew his knife and cut two deep gashes into her, slapping her hard to keep her awake.

Many times, she would think dying wouldn’t have been too terrible—nothing she couldn’t accept. But the heavens seemed to enjoy playing cruel jokes on her, leaving her alive in this ambiguous, infamous state.

Deep within the forested mountains? Ignatius’s fingertips trembled slightly as they brushed the faint scar. His voice, hoarse and low, resonated, "How long were you with Griffith Squire?"

Delphine’s body stiffened as she looked straight at Ignatius.

Within the car, silence reigned. The man’s handsome face betrayed no emotion, and Delphine searched his deep, ancient-pool-like eyes, hoping to find a trace of the familiarity she once knew—her efforts were fruitless. For a moment, countless thoughts flashed through her mind, pulling her apart.

He had never trusted her, believing she’d been intimate with other men. Men generally care about such things, but for the proud and untouchable Ignatius Leclair, it was even more intolerable.

"When you drove me out of Southeast Asia, you didn’t tell me I had to stay virtuous for you." Her jet-black eyes—dark as polished onyx—stared directly at him, her words dripping with cold indifference.

Ignatius’s dark eyes grew increasingly suppressed. His brows and gaze revealed sharp fury, his palm tightened, his grip on her slender shoulders growing stronger as his breath became heavy.

"Two years. Afterward, I left the Golden Triangle, moving swiftly from place to place. Although I frequently changed identities, such matters, if investigated, could still be uncovered." She turned her face away, looking toward the scenery outside the car window.

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