Divorce Me Before Death Takes Me, CEO

Chapter 192

Laurel's POV

Blake's words sent a thrill through me. Finally, something had gone my way tonight. | quickly took out my phone,

angling it away from him, and texted the housekeepers at Twilight Mansion.

Prepare the guest bedroom next to mine. Fresh towels, new sheets, and those pills | brought. Make it perfect.

| couldn’t help the small smile that formed on my lips. Tonight might be the night Blake finally stayed over. That

old man wouldn't be able to object to our engagement after that not without looking like a hypocrite.

But when | looked up, Blake wasn’t turning around toward Twilight Mansion. He was still driving straight ahead,

toward Manhattan.

“Blake darling,” | said, confused, “didn’t you say you were takingback?”

“Michael will send you back,” he replied without looking at me.

Before | could respond, Blake pressed down on the accelerator. The car surged forward, leavingspeechless.

He’s not takingback himself?

His phone rang, cutting through the silence. Blake pressed the speaker button without hesitation.

“Sir,” Michael's voice filled the car, “the car | arranged is heading to Twilight Mansion now. You should see it

soon.”

“Good.”

“About Paris Night,” Michael continued, “it's a small hotel like you thought. Ethan Davies ch

bedroom. I've sent the address to your phone.”

“Got it,” Blake replied, checking his phone before setting the navigation.

| watched him, his profile hard in the dim light, and finally found my voice.

“You're going to find Audrey?”

Blake's POV

“Yes, | am,” | answered without hesitation.

The look of shock on Laurels face barely registered as my mind raced with thoughts of Audrey.

Ethan Davies is barely twenty, still a student. What can he give Audrey that she needs?

She’s making a mistake with this impulsive relationship.

And didn’t that boy work at The Underground? The club where he performed strip dances for women?

How many women has he been with? What if he’s infected Audrey with something?

into a king-sized

1/4

Chapter 192

| need to stop her before it’s too late.

“Blake darling, wake up!” Laurel shouted, her composure crumbling completely. “You're divorced! DIVORCED!

She grabbed the door handle as the car accelerated, her knuckles turning white. Her voice rose to nearly a

shriek.

“Blake Parker!” she yelled. “What do you think you're doing?”

She waved her hands frantically. “Audrey could be with one man tonight or ten men - it’s none of your business

anymore!”

Her voice cracked as she leaned toward me. “Why are you so desperate to find her?”

| kept my face blank, refusing to show how her words affected me.

“Besides,” she added with a cruel smile, “you heard when you called - she’s already in the shower. Paris Night is

thirty kilometers from here: By the tyou arrive, they'll have already done whatever they planned to do. Why

waste your time?”

Laurel's words hit harder than | wanted to admit. | considered the truth in her statement, though I'd never let her

know it affected me.

She mistook my silence for agreement because her expression softened, and she grabbed my arm.

“Blake darling, forget about Audrey. Her messy personal life isn’t your concern anymore.”

She leaned closer, her perfoverwhelming. “You're divorced. You've done your duty as her ex-husband. You

don’t need to solve her problems or worry about her choices.”

She pouted tically. “Blake darling, couldnt you spare sattention forinstead” it fair to make

Michael's driver takehat this hour? | promised Mom I'd spend the night at Twilight Mansi

| frowned and removed her hand from my arm. “Michael only hires drivers | trust.”

| reached across her to open the passenger door. “You should go now.”

Laurel's smile vanished. She bit her lip, dropping her last pretense.

“Even if you rush there now, you'll be too late! Audrey and Ethan -

I'll make it in time,” | cut her off.

| turned to her, keeping my face neutral despite my anger. “Haven't you wondered why Michael sent a driver

instead of coming himself?”

Laurel stared at me, realization dawning/slowly on her face. “Michael is... already at the hotel?*

| shook my head. “Michael is at the police station.”

Watching her eyes widen with shock, | allowed myself a cold smile. “Filing a report about prostitution at Paris

Night Hotel.”

Audrey's POV

214

Chapter 192

Fresh from my shower, | shook my damp hair and looked at my cards with satisfaction.

“Full house,” | said, laying them down. “I win again.”

Astrid groaned and tossed her cards onto the table. “Damn it! Audrey, you must be cheating! That's your third

win in a

row!”

She narrowed her eyes at Ethan. “Are you letting her win? No one has luck this good.”

Ethan laughed, hands up in surrender. “I swear, I'm just terrible at this. Sports Science doesn’t teach poker skills.

“Fine, | give up,” Astrid flopped back onto the sofa. “It must be that tequila sunrise that spilled on us. The alcohol

made your luck better and mine worse.”

I smiled as | gathered the cards. “Blaming alcohol for losing? That's such a Vegas excuse

A sharp knock interrupted me.

“Hello! Room check!” a stern voice called.

“Hello,” Ethan replied, going to open the door.

Several police officers stood in the hallway, their faces severe as they surveyed our room.

“We've received a report of prostitution taking place in this room,” one officer said, his eyes moving from Ethan

to where Astrid and | sat in our bathrobes, hair still wet.

My stomach dropped as | realized how this looked to them.

“You'll need to cwith us to the station,” he continued firmly.

Ethan's face paled. “Wait - you've got it all wrong! These are my friends, they're like sisters to me. We're not -

“That's what they all say,” the officer interrupted. “We'll sort this out at the station.”

He waved to his colleagues. “Take them in.”

Female officers grabbed Astrid andby the arms. Despite our protests, they hustled us out of the room. They

even collected our personal items - including the deck of cards - as “evidence.”

Minutes later, we were sitting in the back of a police car, still in our bathrobes. Astrid finally exploded.

“Who the hell reported us?!” she yelled, her face red. “We were just playing cards in a hotel room! Since when is

that a

crime?”

She slammed her fist against the seat. And prostitution? Are you kidding me? If | were selling myself, | wouldn't

be doing it in scheap hotel with a broke college student!”

As Astrid continued ranting, | stayed quiet, my mind racing. This wasn’t a coincidence. But why?

“Do you know how many rich men in the modeling industry have tried to getinto bed? Astrid fumed. I've

slapped every single one of them! And now I'm being accused of prostitution??

Chapter 192

While Astrid vented, | turned to the female officer beside me.

“Officer,” | asked calmly, “if we prove these allegations are false, what happens to the person who filed the false

report?’

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