The CEO’s Billion Dollar Bride
Chapter 448 - 427: They invite you to go, do you want to?

Chapter 448: Chapter 427: They invite you to go, do you want to?

"Haven’t you heard that exercise is good for your body? If you don’t exercise your kidney function regularly, it’ll disappear altogether!"

Michael Gordon had intended to just carry Ivy Aretha away, but instead, he found it adorable how his woman was eating up this absurd jealousy. A usually intelligent and clever person had now been reduced to being jealous over irrelevant matters.

This could only prove that she was becoming more and more reliant on him – a good development!

As long as she couldn’t bear to leave him, she wouldn’t impulsively stab a knife into her chest. Even now, recalling the past sends shivers down his spine, giving him the feeling that he couldn’t hold her firmly enough.

"So, you’re saying that if they ask you to roll between the sheets with them, you’re tempted to go?"

Upon hearing this, Ivy’s expression darkened instantly. Without hesitation, she pinched Michael’s waist with no regard for politeness—hard. The unexpected jolt of pain made Michael cry out, "Wife, are you trying to murder your husband?"

"You’re going to roll between the sheets with someone else, so are you even a husband?"

Ivy glared fiercely at him, fully aware that his tastes weren’t so exotic that he’d genuinely be interested in women of that appearance. Yet, she couldn’t help but let off some steam in front of him – perhaps a common, irrational behavior of women in love!

"Michael Gordon, just because I didn’t care in the past about how many horses you’ve ’sown’, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t mind if you ’sow’ with others now. A woman’s tolerance stems from a lack of love. When there was none, I could indulge you in your playboy ways. Now that there is love, dare to cast your eyes on another woman and I’ll emasculate you before taking our child and leaving!"

Michael Gordon: "..."

Could he even survive with a ferocious wife like this?

"Wife, how many times have I said that you’re the only woman I’ve ever ’sown’ with? Even now you’re still accusing me. I’m even more innocent than Dianne!"

Michael shook his head with a laugh, filled with amusement. The Spanish beauties exchanged glances, then stared at Ivy in his embrace. How could a woman, who seemed barely 1.65 meters tall at most, be fitting for such a man?

He wouldn’t even spare a glance at all of them! Not one! This was all too extreme—had they ever even encountered such an odd person before? Many men, though unwilling to actually do anything when their wives were around, would still steal glances for the sheer visual pleasure. This man, however, was so repelled by the sight of these beauties that glancing at them simply seemed tiresome.

Having been on the island for several days, this was their first encounter with a man who couldn’t be swayed—a completely unprecedented feeling of defeat. The women couldn’t help but mutter amongst themselves.

"I think he’s just a gigolo who married a she-demon as his bride!"

"I think he’s a man who lives off his wife. Otherwise, why would he be so afraid of her?"

The group assumed that Ivy and Michael didn’t understand Spanish and thought their conversation would go unnoticed, so they spoke even more harshly.

"Maybe this man is completely useless!"

"That can’t be, or where would his wife’s baby belly come from?"

"Perhaps someone else helped her get pregnant?"

"Could be, maybe after sleeping with his wife, he lacks the energy to sleep with anyone else?"

"But his wife is so short! Can he even hold her properly? Their heights are mismatched even when they’re sleeping together!"

Hearing this, Ivy, who had been pretending not to understand, couldn’t stand it any longer. What did they mean, calling her short?

Was she short?

With shoes, she stood at 1.65 meters, the perfect height for a woman. Being too tall could be suffocating while being too short made one look like a dwarf. At her height, she could be a goddess, a playful girl, a tomboy, or a delicate damsel – the perfect height for a woman.

Now, she was being criticized by foreign women who were baring their bellies. Unbearable, indeed!

"I’m short? Do you even know the perfect height for a normal woman?"

Ivy suddenly shook free from Michael’s embrace, barely giving him a chance to react and catch her pregnant self. She then stood before the woman who had claimed her to be short, stamping her foot and putting her hands on her hips in a challenging manner.

Watching this, even Michael was stunned. His wife actually understood Spanish?

Had she been pretending not to understand this whole time?

My God, his wife was devious! Luckily, he had resisted temptation, or else he wouldn’t have even been able to hold her at night!

As he thought this, Ivy’s clear voice, filled with mockery, rang out in Mia Rowen’s tone, "Being shorter than 1.6 meters is short, while being taller than 1.7 meters is masculine? The ideal height is 1.65 meters, which is the perfect height with or without high heels. The ideal height difference between a man and a woman for kissing is 20 centimeters. I’m 1.65 meters tall..."

As she said this, Ivy stopped and pointed at Michael Gordon, smiling sweetly, "And my husband is 1.85 meters. The perfect height. I look up, and he looks down—just right for kissing. Occasionally, I’ll even stand on my tiptoes for an extra bit of romance. Now look at you all!"

After speaking her mind, Ivy again pointed at the stunned women before her, "Each of you is nearly 1.8 meters tall! What do you need men for, with that height? How do people of the same height even kiss? Are there no need for gestures such as looking up and down? What’s the point of having heads so tall then? Stick with men from your own countries! You can either find someone even taller to lean on, or find a man of my husband’s height to stand on his own toes. My husband, the kind of man who doesn’t care for women of your skyscraper-like height, only has eyes for me, a woman of perfect height. Isn’t that right, Honey?"

Finishing, Ivy sweetly called her husband "Honey" in perfect Spanish, sounding as saccharine as could be. If she didn’t vent her anger now, she’d never live up to the exclusive affection her husband held for her!

"Pfft!"

Michael just couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. Then, standing up and wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist, he grinned warmly at the women just as the person he’d been seeking returned with someone who spoke Chinese or English. Holding his wife close, he told the women in a deep, resonant Spanish voice that captivated all who heard it, "That’s right. A normal man likes women of my wife’s height, as it’s convenient for kissing and comfortable for sleeping. She can be treated like a queen and cradled like a princess. Your height, on the other hand, is only suitable for a small number of abnormal men. I’m a normal man who likes normal women, so please, leave us be!"

In other words, they were the abnormal ones!