Divorced My Scum Husband, Married His Evil brother

Priscilla was a little confused by Vincent's action just now. Usually, he wouldn't mind if she hugged his arms and pressed her boobs to him, especially when Chloe was around.

'What's wrong with him?' Priscilla pondered.

It had been at least a few weeks since that incident when Vincent kicked her out of his mansion for no apparent reason. Priscilla thought it was because Vincent was sleeping with someone else while she was away, but based on the report of a maid that she bribed— Mr. Vincent Gray didn't sleep with anyone these days.

He spent most of his time working and resting, usually watching a movie alone in his room or playing billiards or golf with business partners.

'So, the problem isn't because of a slut who wants to covet him,' Priscilla thought. 'Then, what's his problem? Why did he change his attitude and even kick me— Priscilla 'Gray' out of my future mansion?'

Priscilla tailed Vincent to the wide porch and entered the car with him. But the moment Priscilla sat beside Vincent, he gave her a side glance and asked, "Who told you to sit here with me?"

"Eh— Ah… isn't it always like that?" Priscilla asked back. She didn't find anything wrong with sitting with Vincent in the car.

"Don't you like fondling my boobs in the car? You can do it now, you know," Priscilla offered, much to Vincent's disgust.

He looked down and realized that Priscilla's very short skirt already showed her lingerie. Vincent's eyes darkened with fury, "GO SIT IN FRONT!" he snapped out of the blue.

Priscilla jolted when Vernon suddenly yelled at her. She stared at him in disbelief, hoping she had misheard what he had said just now.

"W—What did you just say?"

But Vincent was clear with his order, "Go sit in the front with the chauffeur, are you deaf or what?"

Priscilla still couldn't believe his words, so she tried to reason;

"B—But it's always been like this! I always sit right beside you whenever you're off to work!"

"And I want you to sit in the front or get the fuck out of my car!" Vincent yelled again, and Priscilla finally gave in. She reluctantly got out of the car and circled around to sit in the front seat with the chauffeur.

The chauffeur's eyes widened when he saw the view of Priscilla's lingerie that barely covered her pussy, but Priscilla couldn't care less if any man saw her private part.

She was more concerned with Vincent, who didn't even want to fondle her boobs or play with her clit while he was in the car. He loved doing it, especially when Chloe was trying to be a good wife by standing beside the car, sending her unfaithful husband off to work.

Chloe was forced to see everything that Vincent did to her body. That stupid bitch would often lower her head and try to ignore the blatant view, which greatly satisfied Vincent.

'But he did it a few times even when Chloe wasn't there to see, so it's not about that stupid bitch,' Priscilla thought. 'Besides, Vincent always said that he hated his useless wife, so he must've forgotten about that woman at this point.'

'But what makes him change so drastically?' Priscilla pondered. She turned her head to the backseat many times and saw that Vincent was dazed while staring at the view from the window.

Priscila started to wonder if Vincent was thinking of another woman. Maybe he found a woman that was sexier and more beautiful than her, giving her anxiety.

'No way, I have him dancing in my palm for so long. I know that he can't just ditch me that easily. But I've gotten the information that Vincent doesn't have any new side-chick.'

'This is bad, I need to find out about the problem or else he might forget about my body when he finds another woman. I need to tie him up and become Mrs. Gray, replacing that stupid bitch who can't satisfy her husband.'

Priscilla started creating a scenario in her head. She was thinking of some way to uncover the problem because Vincent didn't seem ready to talk about anything.

**

Vincent walked inside the main lobby of his office, and everyone bowed their heads respectfully at him.

Priscilla tailed him from behind as always. Once they entered the VIP elevator, she observed Vincent's expression, which looked grim.

"Vincent, what's wrong? Did something happen in the office?" Priscilla asked out of concern. She might be after Vincent's money, but she still cared a little about him, especially when it was about work.

After all, she didn't want her money making cow to be dried up before she could taste the richness from him, right?

"It's nothing," Vincent replied curtly. But his mind was busy with one topic that couldn't leave his head.

'Why do I keep dreaming about that worthless bitch? What's so special about our wedding day anyway?' Vincent pondered.

True, he knew that Chloe looked beautiful— so beautiful that she charmed everyone around her with only a smile.

But that was it. The only thing memorable in that dream was how beautiful she was. Vincent had met so many women in his life; some were supermodels, actresses, et cetera.

So he didn't lack women by his side, especially this one condom who didn't even feel a little bit of embarrassment showing so much skin to everyone.

Vincent lowered his head to look at Priscilla since she was shorter than him, but his eyes were greeted with two lascivious boobs squeezed in a bra, ready to be fondled.

Yet, he didn't feel like touching her at all, 'Maybe I need to find a new condom. This one is already past her due date, she looks so boring after four years.'

Priscilla thought Vincent finally wanted to touch her as he kept staring at her boobs.

She grinned and unbuttoned her shirt completely to show her pink bra, "You can touch me if you want, Vincent."