chapter 1623


    As he noticed how silent Dior had been, Harry coldly dered, "If you''re done, go back and stop


    following me."


    With that, he walked past her.


    Dior looked at his back and, in a panic, bit her lip and clutched her stomach, starting to cry.


    She stered a pained expression as she grunted, "Harry Cogen, my stomach hurts. I''m dying... Can


    you send me to the hospital?"


    Harry looked at her sloppy act. "Stomach-ache?"


    Dior nodded and looked at him, hope-filled.


    Harry met her eyes and paused.


    Had she fallen for him?


    Heh.


    His ex treated him this way in the beginning, too, but what happened afterward?


    She gave in to money and reality.


    Women’s love could be summed up by one word: cheap.


    Harry had a mocking look in his eyes as he scoffed, "Didn’t you drive here?


    Drive yourself there." "But it hurts..." Dior seemed visibly pathetic. "My hands are numb. How am I


    supposed to drive? Take me there. Didn’t I stay in the hospital to take care of you before?"


    Harry eyed Dior. It seemed that if he did not send her personally, she would continue to pester him.


    He pursed his lips and frigidly said, "Hop into the car.”


    Dior halted, and her frowning face instantly brightened up. She sat on the front passenger''s seat.


    Despite seeing the change in her expression, Harry did not expose her as he drove the car and left for


    the hospital.


    Dior looked at him, her gaze never wavering from him.


    How could there be such a handsome man in the world?


    Goodness, gracious. How many women had lost their cool when looking at him?


    She only had one thought in her mind: Sleep with him.


    She wanted to sleep with this cold, handsome man!


    Sensing Dior''s burning gaze, Harry turned and nced at her. When he met her adoring eyes, he was


    not surprised. "Does your stomach not hurt anymore?" he pointed out.


    Copyright N?v/el/Dra/ma.Org.


    "Huh?" Dior snapped out of her thoughts. She was about to pull another pained expression but did not


    in the end. "I looked at you, and it just stopped hurting."


    Harry was speechless. He acted as if he did not hear her response and continued driving silently.


    Dior was used to his hostility.


    The colder he was, the happier she would be when she won his heart.


    She leaned on the chair and thought of ways to keep him after they arrived at the hospital.


    What if he went on to the date?


    Dior bit her lip, and her thoughts were all over the ce.


    After a moment of thought, she asked, "Why do you have to go on a date?”


    Harry halted. That was just an excuse he had to pull out, yet she still had that stuck on her brain?


    He said coldly, "Why not?" "But..." She bit her lip. "Don’t you have to work? How would you have time


    to find a girlfriend?"


    Hearing that made Harry''s sexy lips quirked into a small smirk. "Didn''t you give me money? Do I still


    have to work?" "What?” Dior’s head buzzed.


    He used her money to spend it on other women?!


    Dior was speechless.


    "I only want you to treat yourself better, not for you to find another woman." "Oh," came his simple,


    frigid reply like he was some emotionless robot.


    He only responded emotionlessly to anything she asked, much to Dior''s chagrin.


    When they arrived at the hospital, Harry asked, "Do you want me to go in with you?" "No, no need."


    She gave him everything she was holding. "Wait for me here, and don''t go anywhere." "But I''m going


    on a date!" snapped Harry.


    "I don’t care." She had a bossy look as she threatened him, "If you leave, I''ll


    Harry looked at her. "What?"