the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart-Chapter 820: You Should Wait Until They’re in Bed to Catch Them, Understand?

Griffith Squire originally intended to disguise himself as a gentleman and elegantly knock on the door, but upon reaching the private room, he sneered and kicked open the door instead.

Would knocking give the shameless couple time to get dressed?

The longtime ruthless bandit leader kicked the door open with a single blow, startling Emily Thorne so much that the wine in her cup spilled, staining her chest with wetness. She stood up in a hurry and questioned urgently, "Who are you, how can you just barge in?"

Ignatius Leclair woke up from the commotion, and upon seeing Griffith Squire kicking the door open, his face suddenly darkened, and he felt a sudden unease for some unknown reason.

Delphine followed Griffith Squire inside, and upon seeing the lone man and woman — Emily still wearing a dark red silk robe with the collar stained from wine, and not knowing what they were doing — her face turned cold, and she said indifferently, "Miss Emily has quite a nice figure."

"A woman nearing her middle age, still charming, you really have heavy tastes." Griffith Squire laughed wickedly on the side. His appearance was handsome, full of menace, with a venomous tongue akin to a deadly potion.

Emily Thorne was just in her early thirties and was infuriated to be labeled as a middle-aged woman, her face turning blue with rage.

Delphine looked at Ignatius Leclair, who hadn’t spoken a word. The man stood by the floor-to-ceiling window; the room’s light was soft, casting shadows that highlighted his tall nose and deep, sharp eyes.

The tall and handsome man approached, unhurried, with steady steps like a massive beast carrying a hint of danger, stopping before Delphine, he asked in a low, deliberate voice, "Here to catch me in the act, huh?"

"Too soon, you should wait until we’re in bed to catch us, understand?" Ignatius Leclair’s brows were knitted with anger as he looked down at her cold little face and the intrusive man behind her.

Every day, it was either filming or not coming home, not even letting him touch her, only to turn around and come with another man to catch him in infidelity? Ignatius Leclair sneered — was she planning to separate first and then divorce him on the grounds of cheating?

In her dreams.

Delphine had imagined countless scenarios, assuming that any caught couple, no matter how thick-skinned, would be flustered and alarmed, but she was wrong.

Ignatius Leclair was entirely beyond conventional standards.

Not a single explanation, instead he taunted condescendingly.

Delphine was furious, her gaze fell upon the half-drunk glass of wine, her mind suddenly snapped, and without thinking, she grabbed it and splashed it all over Ignatius Leclair’s handsome face, sneering, "If you’re going to find a mistress, at least find someone prettier than me, you’re blind, go get treated."

After splashing the wine, her fingers clutched the glass trembling, and she turned and walked away, behind her, Emily Thorne exclaimed in shock.

When she exited the room, leaning against the wall, she realized her entire body was shaking with anger.

Perhaps it was because she finally dared to defy Ignatius Leclair’s authority or perhaps it was because she genuinely believed these days that she could make things work with him, Delphine mockingly smiled to herself, wondering why after all these years she was still so naive, realizing this man truly wasn’t suitable for her.

Her hand released, the wine glass rolled to the ground, and her eyes ached as she searched for the way she came.

Inside the room, Emily Thorne frantically grabbed paper towels to wipe the wine stains off his face.

The man avoided her, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the wine stains on his face, then threw the handkerchief aside coldly without a word, raising his hand to punch Griffith Squire.

Emily Thorne cried out in fright.

Delphine exited Cloud Summit, and Chloe Winston, who had been waiting on the side, hurriedly stepped forward to support her, urgently asking, "Delphine, your face looks terrible, did you hit the mistress?"

Delphine shook her head, holding her arm, and laughed softly, "I was too busy hitting the jerk instead."