The silk nightgown slid off her body in one piece and fell at her feet.
Mo Shiche almost closed his eyes at the same moment she grabbed the belt.
His thin lips coldly uttered, "Get out."
"Shiche," Sheng Miao stood there, completely bare, bending down, her arms draping over his shoulders, her tender voice carrying a hint of pleading, "Sheng Tang and you are already impossible. You are a man, and we are already married... aren't we?"
The moment her arm draped over him, the man's expressionless face immediately turned extremely gloomy. He raised his hand to grasp her wrist and threw her out.
"Ah..." Sheng Miao was suddenly flung away with great force, falling heavily to the ground. When she looked up, the man on the sofa had already stood up and was walking out.
