Chapter 2 : What, Do You Dislike Me?

When Patrick said the second sentence, his volume was just right for everyone present to hear.

The butler and driver waiting nearby exchanged awkward glances and then lowered their heads, pretending they didn''t exist.

Philip''s hand, hanging by his sleeve, suddenly clenched tightly, staring straight into Patrick''s eyes.

It had been four years, and Patrick had never spoken a kind word to him.

He always stabbed him in the heart with precision.

"What kind of expression is that?" Patrick suddenly sneered, crossing his arms and looking at Philip with a mocking smile, "What, do you want me to pity you?"

Philip didn''t respond. For some reason, he avoided Patrick''s gaze and only said, "Get in the car, it''s very cold outside."

But just as he finished speaking, the hotel door was pushed open, and a boy hurriedly ran out.

When he saw Philip and Patrick ahead, he first froze, then suddenly stopped in his tracks, standing there uncertainly.

"Baby, what''s wrong?" Patrick saw him and put away his mocking expression, winking ambiguously at the boy.

His naturally charming eyes were even more captivating when he smiled, almost hooking into people''s hearts.

The boy blushed. He was originally a gigolo in a bar and had been brought out by Patrick tonight. Although they hadn''t actually slept together, seeing Philip made him feel a bit guilty and embarrassed.

But judging by Patrick''s attitude, it seemed these two weren''t in that kind of relationship.

The boy secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He jogged over, smiled at Philip first, then handed something to Patrick, speaking affectionately, "Bro, you forgot your watch."

Philip''s gaze fell on his hand.

"Running out without a coat just for this thing, aren''t you cold?" Patrick ruffled the boy''s hair, pushing the item back to him with a gentle tone, "This was meant for you."

Philip suddenly looked up at Patrick. Without his glasses, his eyes, already dark as ink, were now even more impenetrable.

This watch was a gift he had given Patrick last week.

He had given Patrick many things, which Patrick usually handed off to others. Philip had always known this.

But this was the first time Patrick had so blatantly re-gifted something he had given him to a gigolo he had just slept with, right in front of him.

"Patrick," Philip called out, his voice hoarse, as if trying to restrain something.

The boy felt inexplicably scared, unsure whether to hand over the watch or take it back. Originally, he thought these two might just be friends, but now it didn''t seem that way.

Patrick, however, seemed not to hear Philip. He curled his lips, casually patted the boy''s shoulder, and then pushed him forward, saying, "Be good, go up."

The boy glanced at Philip, hesitated for a moment, then took a step back. Seeing that Philip didn''t move, he breathed a sigh of relief and ran back to the hotel with the watch worth hundreds of thousands of dollars.

As soon as he left, Patrick ignored the ugly expression on Philip''s face, walked around him, and went to his sports car. With one hand, he agilely leaped onto it.

Philip stood in place, gritting his teeth, his jawline tight. He clenched his fists, using all his strength to suppress his overwhelming anger and embarrassment.

The engine roared.

The red supercar, like a sleek and beautiful cheetah, darted onto the road and disappeared in an instant.

Philip turned around and got into his car.

When he got home, Philip wordlessly dragged Patrick into the bathroom. He took off Patrick''s jacket and shirt and threw them into the trash can, then went to undo his belt.

Patrick lazily half-closed his eyes and swatted Philip''s hand away.

Philip didn''t bother with his pants and directly turned on the showerhead above.

The icy water poured down unexpectedly, and Patrick''s eyes instantly narrowed dangerously. When he saw Philip squeezing a large amount of body wash onto a loofah and then vigorously scrubbing the kiss marks on his body, he let out a snort from his nose.

"What, do you think I''m dirty?"

Philip pressed his lips together, not saying a word, but the force of his hand increased.

Patrick''s skin quickly turned red, and some areas even started to bleed, but he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and watched Philip''s expression with amusement—

As long as Philip was in pain, he was happy.

But it wasn''t enough...

After a moment, Patrick smirked and said nonchalantly, "But we''re already divorced. Legally and emotionally, you have no right to control who I sleep with."

Hearing his words, Philip''s movements stopped. His long, dark eyelashes, damp with water, trembled slightly, hiding the emotions in his eyes.

"Or, maybe you should get over it. After all, I see you can''t live without my thing. Maybe I''ll bring someone back next time, and we can have a threesome..."

"Patrick!"

Philip finally couldn''t take it anymore and looked up, his eyes turning red as if he was about to cry.

"You, you just have to..."

Philip couldn''t finish his sentence because Patrick suddenly attacked, grabbing his shoulders and slamming him against the wall.

Philip''s head hit the tiles with a dull thud, and the sharp pain made his mind go blank.

Patrick closed in on him, his voice cold and chilling, "Don''t show that expression in front of me, understand?"