Chapter 92

Isabella was taken aback.

Only then did Tyrell realize that his sudden move might have made Isabella uncomfortable, and he quickly apologized. "Sorry, I just got too excited for a moment and couldn't help but come over. I didn't mean any harm."

Tyrell's attitude was very sincere, and Isabella, not being a petty person, didn't take it to heart.

However, his words did catch Isabella's attention. "What did you just ask me about? What design?"

Seeing that Isabella wasn't angry, Tyrell's fondness for her increased exponentially. "Actually, Olivia just told me that all her dresses were designed by you. Ms. Taylor, your talent and taste are truly impressive."

"That was many years ago, just something I did for fun." Isabella glanced at Olivia beside her.

She didn't understand why Olivia suddenly brought this up with Tyrell. Back then, Olivia had seen the sketches Isabella casually designed and insisted on wearing them to a party.

Unable to resist her pleading, Isabella made an exception and created the dress for her.

She hadn't expected it to have such an effect.

"To create something so stunning just for fun, Ms. Taylor, you are indeed extraordinary." Tyrell was thrilled and now fully believed Olivia's words. He looked at Isabella with eyes full of hope. "Ms. Taylor, I wonder if you are  interested in private custom designs, or even just give some simple advice. To be honest, I've always wanted to change my style, but I could never get it right. No one watches me sing or dance, and I'm not good at acting. Now, I'm on the verge of being abandoned by my company."

Isabella could see that he was genuinely anxious. Since Tyrell was Olivia's friend, she decided to be straightforward. "Private custom designs might not be possible, but I can give you some advice."

"Really? I'm so lucky to get your personal feedback."

Isabella immediately identified the issues with his appearance and started from the key points.

With his serious looks, he should build a persona around strength rather than trying to cater to the public by making himself look cute.

As for clothing, Tyrell's larger frame was more suited to various black and white shirts.

Indeed, anyone could give advice, but it ultimately depended on him.

And he wasn't bad-looking; otherwise, he wouldn't have been chosen to be a star.

Tyrell listened intently. Over the past few years, he had lost his own judgment trying to cater to the public.

His makeup and clothing were all arranged by his agency.

This led to him always wanting to be like others but increasingly being ostracized.

He wanted to change his image but feared being ridiculed and accused of lacking talent but having ulterior motives, which would completely ruin his future.

Now, Isabella's few words had enlightened him, and he felt much more at ease.

The two continued to chat about how to match clothes, getting more and more engrossed in the conversation.

However, they didn't notice a pair of eyes staring at them from the front row, growing increasingly sharp and deep.

'Who is that man? Is he the person she has come to see today?' Michael was burning with anger, feeling like he was about to explode, but since they were in a theater, he had to hold it in for now.

He had attended a party earlier and heard someone mention the film's premiere. As an investor in the film, he had to come and show his support.

Not wanting to waste time tomorrow, he had chosen a midnight screening. He hadn't expected to run into her here, and he had caught her red-handed not keeping her promise.

At this moment, Michael exuded a cold aura.

It wasn't until he saw her get up and walk outside that he restrained his dark gaze and followed her.

Outside, Isabella stood in the hallway, shaking her head as she headed to the restroom.

Tyrell had been too enthusiastic, first offering her a consultation fee, then inviting her to dinner, and finally even suggesting he become her assistant.

Tyrell was Olivia's friend, and she found it hard to handle.

Moreover, she had already hinted to Olivia, who understood her well and was probably explaining things to Tyrell by now.

It wouldn't hurt to stay outside for a while before going back.

Who knew that just as she entered the restroom and hadn't closed the door, a strong force pushed her inside and locked the door.

"Who?" Isabella quickly turned around, only to meet Michael's extremely angry eyes.

His whole demeanor seemed like he wanted to devour her alive.

"Michael, what are you doing here?" She knew he was in the theater, but this was the women's restroom. What was he doing following her here? Was he a pervert?

"What do you think I'm doing here?" Michael forcefully pinned her against the wall.

He didn't care where they were; he just wanted to demand what she had been talking about with Tyrell that made her so happy.

"Tell me, what were you talking about with that man? Why were you so happy with him?"

Isabella frowned, realizing he meant Tyrell.

"Michael, don't slander me. He's a celebrity... Wait, how do you know I was talking to Tyrell?" She suddenly realized and raised an eyebrow.

"Michael, were you spying on us in the theater? Or are you like those rumors online, regretting letting me go and trying to create various encounters to win me back?" She said this, but Isabella knew better than anyone that Michael wouldn't, and he never regretted divorcing her.

But his impulsiveness today made her think he cared about her, that he minded her talking to Tyrell.

After hearing her words, Michael sneered and grabbed her chin. "Isabella, should I say you're narcissistic or just naive? I'm here to warn you that we haven't officially divorced yet. I'm still your husband in name. Flirting with men in front of me, do you think I'm dead?"

His words were like a sharp knife, stabbing into Isabella's heart.

Just a moment ago, she had thought he was jealous of her talking to Tyrell.

It turned out he only cared about his own pride.

Anger filled her chest, and the light in Isabella's eyes dimmed.

She shook off his hand and provocatively said, "So what? Even if I slept with someone else, what does it have to do with you, Michael? Don't forget, we've signed the divorce papers. Soon, we won't have any relationship at all."

She wished she could sever all ties with him right now, then he would have no excuse to hurt her again.

Michael stared deeply at her. "Even so, for the remaining time, you're still my wife. Stay away from those men and don't make me angry, understand?"

His large hand caressed her face, pinching her as a form of punishment.

Isabella frowned in disgust and avoided his touch. "Michael, don't touch me. We're divorced. Who I'm with is none of your business!"

She reached for the door to leave, but the next second, she was grabbed from behind, and Michael's body pressed against hers.