My Sweet Wife

In the hallway on the eleventh floor of the Goldsun Hotel, Sophie Sabastian stumbled against the handrail, her face with red, having had no idea how many glasses of wine.

So drunk, her head was spinning.

“Keep, keep drinking …”

Mumbling under her breath, Sophie Sabastian groped her way forward when whoever it was pushed her violently in the back, instantly making her lose her center of gravity!

“AHHH!” Sophie Sabastian flung herself straight through a presidential suite door and fell to the floor.

She screamed out in pain and opened her eyes in a daze, only to realize that this didn’t seem to be a KTV, but more like a hotel room …

Wasn’t she singing with her coworkers at the sing-along bar, how did she end up here?

The bathroom door was pulled open, and then a slender silhouette crossed out from it.

“Get out!” The man’s voice was cold and piercing.

“Wilson, this is your surprise for me isn’t it?” Sophie Sabastian climbed to her feet, her mind foggy and completely unrecognizable to the voice at the moment.

Leonardo Cooper frowned at the woman who was leaning against him in a drunken frenzy, as drunk as could be!

He tugged on her arm to pull the person out of his arms.

“Wilson baby …,” Sophie Sabastian countered by wrapping her arms around his waist and tilting her head back, an uncharacteristic red coloring her slightly powdered face, “I’ve missed you so much! ”

Seeing her face, Leonardo Cooper was stunned, “Sophie Sabastian?”

“Darn, you usually call me Sophie!” Sophie Sabastian cooed.

The man didn’t move, Sophie Sabastian was a bit annoyed, her voice contained a hint of aggravation, “Wilson, why are you being so cold?”

Wilson?

Leonardo Cooper finally came back to his senses and stared at Sophie Sabastian with a grim face.

Seeing her again after five years, she actually thought of him as Wilson?

Holding a fire in his chest, he forcefully threw Sophie Sabastian heavily onto the bed.

…

“bell, bell …”

The irritating ringing of her cell phone was so loud Sophie Sabastian’s head was about to explode, and with her eyes closed she fumbled laboriously to get to the phone to answer it.

“Sophie, where are you?” The male voice on the other end of the line was soft and low.

It was Wilson’s voice.

Sophie Sabastian listened in a daze, still wondering if Wilson was not beside himself, why did he call himself, reached out but did not touch the person, awakened with a jolt.