The Substitute Wife: My Poor Husband Is A Billionaire

The Substitute Wife My Poor Husband is a Billionaire

Chapter 922 Go See The Kids

Draco had been worried that what had happened would affect Janet at work.

He hadn’t expected that Janet would handle it well.

Draco stopped frowning, stroked the face of the woman in the drawing and smiled.

When he first started this artwork, Janet had just started working at W Marks. Time passed quickly.

When Janet first arrived at W Marks on her first day, she was wearing her hair in a ponytail. She had desperately wanted to be a designer and had always worked hard. No matter how hard the task, she’d always fully thrown herself into it, in order to be the best. Sometimes when she was set up by hostile colleagues, she would fight back smartly.

That was when Draco decided that what he wanted was to be her protector.

Looking at the portrait, Draco found that Janet had grown so much more composed and mature since then. She was practically a different person now. He couldn’t help but feel sad.

“It’s time to let it go.” He was talking to himself, with a self-deprecating smirk at the corners of his mouth. He packed all the sketches away into the box.

Draco closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

that he’d keep all of his feelings for her to himself from

no longer felt

******

to work. Instead, he brought Janet breakfast in

made and guessed that Brandon was going

any plans.

asked her to change into some casual

was already waiting outside in

she was done, Brandon said, “I need to change as

kids?” Janet looked back at Brandon in confusion and forgot to zip up her

opened the wardrobe and glanced at Janet’s bre@sts. “We’re going to a charity event today. Every

nodded. So it wasn’t a

happy she could go to the Larson Group

her. He removed her unzipped dress, held

struggle but failed. “Brandon,” she said. “We’re leaving

take long,” Brandon replied in a low

held Janet’s wrists high above her head and

time his hands reached her thighs and he was about to continue, there was suddenly the sounds of knocking at the door. “Who is it?” Brandon growled in a low voice, trying to suppress his anger

to knock. “Mr. Larson, the driver

that he’d