Sir Your Wife Already Signed the Divorce Paper

Chapter 344,1

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Chapter 344.1 You Asked For It I

Imogen organized the photo evidence back home and emailed it to the photography competition

organizers.

She had the competition entry email, the original EXIF data, and the RAW format files to prove that she

was the photographer of the first–place work.

Thus, this matter should not be too difficult to resolve.

Imogen shut down her computer, went to the bathroom to freshen up, and then lay in bed, getting ready

to rest. Suddenly, Troy sent a Facebook message: [Come out.]

Troy: [I’m outside your door.]

Imogen’s drowsiness instantly disappeared, and she replied to Troy: [What are you doing at this late

hour?]

Troy: [Going for a ride. When you come out, make sure to dress warmly.)

Imogen: [Are you insane?]

She wondered why he wanted to go for a ride so late at night.

Troy: [You have ten minutes. If you’re not afraid of waking Charlie, come out quickly.] “What?”

Imogen: [You asked for it!]

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She crawled out from under her blanket, quickly put on some warm clothes, and silently exited her

apartment.

Troy was waiting by the exit window, smoking. When he heard the door open, he immediately

extinguished his cigarette and walked towards Imogen. He noticed she was well–dressed for the cold

and pressed the elevator button to go down. “Let’s go.”

Imogen stared at Troy. “Why suddenly go for a ride?”

“Just a whim.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Now that you’re out, we’ll have some fun before heading back.”

The elevator doors opened, and Troy pulled Imogen inside, pressing the button for the ground floor.

Imogen inquired, “Isn’t it the basement?”

Troy responded, “You’ll see when we get there.”

The elevator stopped on the first floor, and Troy walked ahead, leading the way toward the nearby

parking lot.

Imogen was curious about what he was up to.

Imogen followed Troy and saw him heading towards a motorcycle.

It was a sleek, expensive–looking motorcycle.

This was what he meant by going for a ride.

Troy grabbed a helmet from the handlebars and motioned for Imogen to come closer “oin me.” Imogen

reached him and examined the motorcycle. “Is this yours?”

Troy placed the helmet on her head. “It belongs to one of my friends, and I borrow

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spin.”

Imogen was surprised. “Can you even ride this?”

Troy smiled, “Of course.”

Troy picked up another helmet and put it on. He wheeled the motorcycle out and mounted it with a

single kick. He turned to look at Imogen. “Hop on.”

It was the first time Imogen had seen Troy dressed like this. He seemed entirely different from the

nurturing father figure he had been at dinner.

She took a seat behind Troy, clutching his jacket.

Troy asked, “Ready to go?”

Imogen nodded. “Yes.”

Troy started the motorcycle. As soon as they left the apartment, the engine revved to life with a roar,

and he accelerated, propelling it forward like a bullet.

Imogen was caught off guard. She didn’t voice her concerns, but the abrupt increase in speed made

her cling tightly to Troy’s waist as she pressed against his back.

The wind howled around them as the streets grew increasingly deserted.

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They moved effortlessly through the city, accompanied only by the powerful hum of the engine. It felt as

if they were the sole occupants of the world.

“How do you feel?” Troy’s voice carried back to her.

“Exhilarating,” she replied, despite her hands getting cold.

“If your hands are cold, you can warm them in my pockets,” he suggested, picking up on her

discomfort.

Imogen complied, placing her hands in his pockets. She asked, “When did you learn to ride a

motorcycle?”

She felt that Troy’s style didn’t quite suit the motorcycle.

He answered, “Back in high school.”

It had been a while.

As the roadside scenery blurred past, Imogen asked, “Where are we going?”

Troy said, “Wherever the road takes us.”