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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⌠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⌠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⌠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⌠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŚ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a1e61cqcwaEQ7kNvgEsFnvG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYAANoh7dUIvcCbVJHDyvLhH7hz6JGMh7Zd6f2ZcTg-Y6w&oe=6745955F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | Neil Somner entrusts his granddaughter, Freya Somner, to an old patient he saved back in the day. The patient promises that he'll have his grandson marry Freya. The man disappears right after he and Freya register their marriage. When they meet again two years later, he's an army captain, and she's a brave, calm doctor in the emergency room. To keep Freya out of danger, Daniel Talbot uses his influence and clout to transfer her out of the emergency room. Unbeknownst to him, his rival in love is waiting for Freya in the new department. It's one of Daniel's rare moments of failure. One day, Daniel asks Freya, "What do you think of me?" She looks at him. "I'm not going to comment on that. I don't know you." He stands in her way, refusing to let her go. "You can get to know me now." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465363118_1068771147804090_8770423159999719943_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UNuwy3hCLvcQ7kNvgG0x-gL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYD_x9gajyleq6Vi9weHmTC8btGCUN5emtp-9qfJAgA7UQ&oe=6745C114 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463076519_523298044026874_3884852766861475102_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xd_3KbwFA4UQ7kNvgFz9aYr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYC6jwZwRzVgr-Nf7L_mCOFLW1lS4JgkAEA2EwjIfQu1Nw&oe=6745BA0E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 | Read next chapterđ | As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e | Hello reading | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c1-0824-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&rawadid=120216829100750091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465718400_539873468681441_517937172484136886_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wAg4UgVSEPwQ7kNvgG6y3M_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMBPv7rhwHI-2yR18Tt6Isl&oh=00_AYBU-QeqGjavL0o-5o448wr6gyDLkECtnqr3mHjjJ166WQ&oe=6745AFF7 | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Continuar lendođđđ | Devido Ă s dificuldades da vida, ela tinha que trabalhar como acompanhante. Um dia, ela recebeu um pedido de um cliente misterioso, pedindo que ela fosse sua noiva temporĂĄria por uma semana. Considerando a alta remuneração, ela aceitou o pedido. Inesperadamente, isso mudou sua vida... ===== JĂĄ fazia alguns meses que eu entrei para a Red Angel, uma agĂŞncia de acompanhantes de luxo. Larguei o meu emprego de secretĂĄria pois com aquele salĂĄrio eu mal conseguia comprar alimentos. Eu nĂŁo conseguia nem mesmo pagar as contas acumuladas, isto sem falar na minha faculdade e no colĂŠgio interno de Gabriel. Eu queria muito ter condiçþes de pagar tudo, de ter condiçþes de pagar alguĂŠm para cuidar dele, para todas as noites eu poder estar com ele. Se a falta de nossos pais doĂa em mim, para ele o sofrimento era ainda maior. Eu nĂŁo poderia recusar este trabalho, estava cheia de dĂvidas e com o meu irmĂŁo pequeno para criar. ApĂłs a morte dos nossos pais o que nos restou foi muita tristeza, saudades e muitas contas para pagar. E quitar todas elas com o meu trabalho de secretĂĄria, era impossĂvel, eu estava ao ponto de desistir dos estudos. Uma amiga da faculdade me ajudou, me apresentou para a dona da agĂŞncia Red Angel, na qual ela trabalha. No inĂcio eu nĂŁo queria, estava fora dos meus princĂpios. Mas tudo caiu por terra, quando o conselho tutelar me ameaçou. E eu poderia perder a guarda de Gabriel, eu estava deixando-o sozinho para trabalhar. E estĂĄvamos passando necessidade. E foi assim comecei a trabalhar na Red Angel, nem sempre era fĂĄcil. Mas comecei a ganhar o suficiente. Consegui pagar a minha faculdade e o colĂŠgio interno de Gabriel, uma escola bem cara e conceituada. Eu nĂŁo estava extremamente feliz, mas estava conseguindo devagar alcançar os meus objetivos. Mas agora estou sofrendo as consequĂŞncias de uma suspensĂŁo por trĂŞs meses, por ter me envolvido com um dos funcionĂĄrios da Red Angel. Quebrando assim, uma das regras da Mary. O pior ĂŠ que eu nem sentia nada por aquele babaca, que fez um drama, dizendo para a Mary, que ele estava indo embora por minha culpa, sendo que ele estava indo para Nova Iorque trabalhar. O telefone tocou me tirando de meus pensamentos. -- AlĂ´? -- OlĂĄ, Karen. Eu devia te ignorar por mais alguns meses. Mas digamos que a sorte sorriu para vocĂŞ. EntĂŁo, nĂŁo me decepcione. Mari me explicou que um poderoso empresĂĄrio estava oferecendo pagar muito por uma semana comigo. E seria em Portofino, na ItĂĄlia. O meu coração fez um salto. Isto poderia pagar meus Ăşltimos meses de estudo. Me dando a oportunidade de deixar a Red Angel assim que eu conseguisse outro trabalho, no que vou me formar. O que me chamou a atenção, ele queria apenas desfilar comigo. Isso me deixou pensativa. Mas o fato de ganhar todo este dinheiro me fez aceitar. Mary me avisou que nos encontrarĂamos no dia seguinte para comprar tudo o necessĂĄrio para a viagem. -- Karen. Ele te escolheu entre tantas. EntĂŁo espero que nĂŁo me decepcione. -- Mary, eu vou dar o meu melhor para nĂŁo te decepcionar. -- Ele exigiu algo? -- Na verdade, ele dispensou o nosso contrato habitual da agĂŞncia, quer sigilo, obviamente. Ele vai pagar tudo, suas roupas, malas, viagem. Ele quer que vocĂŞ leia o contrato e se quiser incluir algo, poderĂĄ. Ele quer que eu envie para ele em seguida. Isto me deixou mais que apreensiva. Mas o dinheiro e a promessa de liberdade deste trabalho valeriam risco. -- Pensei. -- Por favor, me envie a cĂłpia dos seus documentos por e-mail. Preciso enviar para ele, para os trâmites da viagem. AtĂŠ amanhĂŁ. -- Vou te enviar, atĂŠ amanhĂŁ e obrigada pela oportunidade. -- NĂŁo agradeça a mim, por mais que eu te adore, Karen, regras sĂŁo regras, eu te deixaria em punição, mas ele escolheu vocĂŞ. -- Mesmo assim, obrigada. AtĂŠ amanhĂŁ. Ela desligou o telefone, meu coração ainda estava acelerado. Eu nem mesmo sabia como ele era. Mas tentei nĂŁo pensar sobre, afinal no dia seguinte Mary me mostraria uma foto dele e falarĂamos mais sobre ele. Respirei fundo, precisava me acalmar. Eu fui para a cozinha, preparei um chĂĄ e liguei para Gabriel, para contar da viagem. Para ele e outras pessoas prĂłximas, eu falava que trabalhava como aeromoça em voos particulares de ricos excĂŞntricos. Peguei o celular e liguei para a escola de Gabriel. ApĂłs falar com a secretĂĄria, eles passaram a chamada para o quarto dele. -- Karen, como estou feliz que vocĂŞ ligou! -- Eu queria ouvir a sua voz. Estou com muitas saudades. -- Hoje eu venci o no campeonato de futebol e no judĂ´ eu estou classificado para as olimpĂadas da escola. Estou feliz, Karen. -- Uau! Meu campeĂŁo! ParabĂŠns, estou orgulhosa de vocĂŞ. NĂłs nos veremos assim que eu voltar de viagem. -- Para onde vocĂŞ voarĂĄ desta vez? Meu coração apertou, mas ele era muito criança para entender o que eu fazia. E, de certa forma, desta vez eu realmente estava indo voar. -- Vou para Portofino, na ItĂĄlia. Mas assim que eu voltar, vou correndo te ver e vou trazer presentes. -- Vou ficar contente em te ver. Eu gosto dos presentes, mas gosto muito mais de vocĂŞ. Segurei as lĂĄgrimas. Eu queria muito poder ter condiçþes de pagar alguĂŠm para tomar conta dele enquanto eu trabalhava. Mas antes eu precisava pagar todas as nossas contas acumuladas e arrumar outro trabalho. E assim ter condiçþes de bancar todas as despesas da casa e dos estudos de Gabriel. Ele dependia de mim. Respirei fundo e tentei mostrar a ele que estava feliz. -- Eu te amo muito, garotinho lindo. Eu tambĂŠm fico muito feliz em te ver, em breve estaremos juntos. -- Eu vou esperar! Boa Viagem, irmĂŁzinha. Vou jogar com os meus amigos. Te amo. - Obrigada! Se divirta, querido. E lembre-se que eu te amo mais que tudo. Eu te ligarei em breve. Ele fez barulhos de b*ijos no telefone e desligou. Eu enxuguei as lĂĄgrimas em meu rosto e tentei restar otimista para o amanhĂŁ. Era isto, se no contrato, as exigĂŞncias do cliente fossem suportĂĄveis a minha partida para a ItĂĄlia jĂĄ seria amanhĂŁ, ao lado de um perfeito desconhecido. CapĂtulo 2 Noiva! No dia seguinte... O meu carro nĂŁo funcionou e tive que correr para a estação. Mary marcou comigo na frente de uma loja cara da avenida principal. Eu jĂĄ conseguia ver seus cabelos claros presos em um rabo de cavalo elegante e suas roupas de grife adornando o seu corpo perfeito. Ela se girou lentamente, sorrindo para mim. -- Bom dia, senhorita atrasada. -- Bom dia, me desculpe pelo atraso. Lamento ter feito vocĂŞ me esperar. Meu carro quebrou outra vez. -- Tudo bem, Karen. Consigo ver o quanto estĂĄ abatida e acredite, vai ficar tudo bem. Mas devo te alertar que o nosso cliente, o senhor Dante, nĂŁo suporta atrasos. -- Isto nĂŁo vai acontecer. Eu respondi, tentando buscar um pouco de ar para os meus pulmĂľes. -- Vamos entrar, pois estamos atrasadas. O dia estĂĄ apenas começando. Entrei na loja com ela e por uma hora escolhemos vestidos, sapatos, variados acessĂłrios. Mary estava quase todo o tempo no telefone enviando fotos para ele de cada roupa que eu vestia. E ele respondia o que ele gostava ou nĂŁo. Quando saĂmos para a rua Mary, finalmente deixou o telefone. -- Eu ainda acho muito estranho tudo isso. Qual o problema deste homem, Mary? Ela sorriu gentilmente, mas nĂŁo respondeu. Ela entrou no spa que ficava a poucos metros da loja em que estĂĄvamos. ApĂłs sermos acomodadas em uma sala de estar, ela se virou para mim. -- Ele deixou claro no contrato, ele sĂł quer que sua presença ao lado dele, sempre bem-vestida e maquiada. -- Tudo bem, eu prefiro assim. Ela sorriu e abaixou a voz. --Um lugar maravilhoso... O telefone dela interrompeu sua frase, ela se afastou e eu entrei para a sala de massagem. E pelas horas seguintes, eu fui preparada, unhas, cabelos, maquiagem, roupas. O meu coração estava em angĂşstia, mas eu sabia que era tarde demais para desistir. Horas depois, estĂĄvamos na frente do grande espelho da recepção da Red Angel. Eu usava um vestido chique com um toque sensual na dose justa. Na bolsa, estava todos os meus pertences e o principal, o meu passaporte. Mary repassava as exigĂŞncias do contrato que eu tinha acabado de assinar. -- VocĂŞ tem apenas que sorrir e concordar com tudo o que ele disser quando estiverem em pĂşblico. Praticamente, vocĂŞ terĂĄ que fingir um relacionamento emotivo com ele. DormirĂĄ no mesmo quarto que ele, mas ele nĂŁo te tocarĂĄ. Mary tinha mandado que todas as roupas fossem preparadas nas malas caras que ela tinha comprado para mim. E quando o carro que ele enviou chegou na frente da Red Angel, o motorista as carregou no porta-malas. Me despedi de Mary e segui para o meu destino. Apesar de ter me dado um boa noite amigĂĄvel, o motorista restou em silĂŞncio todo o trajeto. No aeroporto, entramos na ĂĄrea vip de voos privados, um aviĂŁo estava pronto na pista. O motorista me conduziu atĂŠ um comissĂĄrio que estava esperando na escada, ele me cumprimentou e me acompanhou atĂŠ o meu assento no aviĂŁo, me oferecendo tudo o possĂvel para o meu conforto. Eu estava terminando de fazer uma mensagem para o meu irmĂŁo, quando escutei a sua voz pela primeira vez. -- Boa noite, Karen. Seja bem-vinda. Eu levantei o meu olhar para encontrar Dante Montallegro com seu corpo perfeito e seu olhar intenso buscando os meus. -- Boa noite, senhor Montallegro... -- Retire o Senhor, por favor, vocĂŞ deve me chamar de Dante, nada mais. --Disse enquanto dobrava lentamente a manga de sua camisa. Eu observei os seus movimentos, seus braços definidos eram evidentes sobre o tecido caro de sua camisa. -- Me desculpe, eu estou um pouco nervosa. -- Entendo suas dĂşvidas depois do contrato que enviei. EntĂŁo, estou disposto a discutir com vocĂŞ durante o voo. Vou começar te explicando o meu motivo por contratar sua agĂŞncia. Estamos indo para uma grande conferĂŞncia, onde entrarei em contato com alguns clientes importantes. Mas o fato de sua presença ĂŠ porque minha noiva me deixou. E ela estarĂĄ nessas reuniĂľes. Ela terminou comigo e duas semanas depois, ficou noiva de outro. Eu sei que ela ainda me ama. Ela estĂĄ fazendo isso de pirraça. Preciso jogar do mesmo jeito que ela, para tirĂĄ-la da zona de conforto. E fazer ela ver, que eu sou o homem certo para ela! Ele disse tudo de forma tĂŁo natural que eu encontrei dificuldades para dizer que isto era mais louco do que eu poderia pensar. Mas, enfim, ele estava me pagando bem para ser sua namorada. -- Entendi Dante, eu serei sua namorada para passar ciĂşmes. -- Na verdade, noiva. VocĂŞ serĂĄ minha noiva. Ficamos noivos em uma romântica viagem para a GrĂŠcia. -- Noiva?? Eu falei um pouco mais alto do que eu deveria, e ele seriamente me respondeu. -- Sim. Eu e Vivian terminamos faz dois meses e ela estava viajando para outra parte do mundo, e eu tambĂŠm. EntĂŁo a mentira que nĂłs dois contaremos serĂĄ plausĂvel. -- Tudo bem. -- Ătimo, eu preciso que vocĂŞ apenas concorde com tudo o que eu disser e saiba evitar responder perguntas, eu as responderei. -- Claro, vocĂŞ tem fotos da sua noiva? -- Apenas as do site. -- Bom saber que vocĂŞ escolheu sua atual noiva se baseando naquelas fotos. -- Na verdade, nĂŁo foi pelas fotos, foi por sua descrição no perfil. E depois conversando com a Mary, ela me disse que vocĂŞ estĂĄ na faculdade. E que, ao contrĂĄrio das outras que ali estĂŁo, vocĂŞ busca um futuro fora de tudo isto. -- Bom de certa forma, acho fofo o seu esforço para, de alguma forma reconquistar sua amada. Ele apenas sorriu, mas nĂŁo disse mais nada, e nas horas seguintes de voo ele nĂŁo tocou mais no assunto do contrato ou sua relação. Falamos de tudo um pouco e encontramos muitas afinidades e o voo foi tranquilo. Quando o aviĂŁo pousou, ele se virou para mim e puxou uma caixa de dentro de sua pequena mala. -- Precisamos contar bem esta mentira... Ele abre a caixa e duas alianças brilharam diante dos meus olhos. Ele pegou o solitĂĄrio e deslizou em meu dedo. Ele mesmo pegou a outra aliança e deslizou em seu dedo. -- Parece que estamos noivos, querido. Ele sorriu e me ajudou a levantar da poltrona. -- Aqui começa nossa histĂłria, querida. CapĂtulo 3 Dante Montallegro Ao entrar no carro que estava a nossa espera na pista, ele voltou a sua atenção para mim. -- Karen, vocĂŞ pode me dizer o seu nome real? -- Este ĂŠ o meu nome real. A Mary deve ter enviado todos os meus documentos para vocĂŞ, incluindo todos os exames... -- Sim, claro, ela enviou, mas foi tudo para a minha secretĂĄria. Os exames sĂŁo sempre enviados para os clientes? -- Isto faz parte da exigĂŞncia da Mary, provar para todos os clientes que nos contratam a longo prazo, que somos saudĂĄveis. -- Eu entendidos. O telefone dele tocou, eu tentei nĂŁo prestar atenção na sua conversa. Eu respirei fundo e me concentrei na paisagem de Portofino. Meu telefone começou a tocar insistentemente. E eu nĂŁo consegui desligar. Levantei o meu olhar para Dante e ele olhou meu celular com certo ar de reprovação. Enfim, consegui desligar a chamada. Ele seguiu falando por alguns segundos e depois desligou. Ele pegou uma grande caixa que estava entre nĂłs e me entregou. -- Isto ĂŠ para vocĂŞ. E seu telefone deve permanecer apenas no modo vibração. Atenda, apenas se for algo de urgĂŞncia. Espero que nĂŁo atenda os seus clientes enquanto estiver comigo. As minhas mĂŁos trĂŞmulas abriram a caixa, enquanto o amargo descia na minha garganta. O que estĂĄ acontecendo? Ele consegue me deixar sem jeito e extremamente irritada. Poucas horas juntos, e ele jĂĄ estava me deixando desconfortĂĄvel, mas do que qualquer outra pessoa jĂĄ foi capaz. --Pensei. Fiquei um tempo olhando o celular de Ăşltima geração dentro da caixa. Provavelmente eu deveria devolver no final do contrato. Parecendo ler os meus pensamentos, ele falou. -- Considere um presente meu. Por vocĂŞ ter aceitado o meu contrato. -- Desculpe, Dante, eu nĂŁo posso aceitar. -- NĂŁo gosto de ser contrariado, Karen. AlĂŠm do mais, nĂŁo estamos quebrando nenhuma das regras por nĂłs estabelecidas. E vocĂŞ, como minha noiva, nĂŁo pode usar qualquer telefone barato na frente dos meus investidores e clientes. Eu respirei fundo novamente e tentei me acalmar. Este homem me enlouqueceria em uma semana ao seu lado. Parecia impossĂvel isto nĂŁo acontecer. -- Tudo bem, obrigada, Dante. Ele apenas sorriu, convencido. Quando eu terminei de transferir os meus dados para o telefone, o carro parou na frente do hotel "A Belmond." Antes que eu pudesse organizar as minhas coisas da bolsa para sair, ele jĂĄ tinha saĂdo e estava abrindo a porta para mim. A sua mĂŁo segurou a minha e me guiou porta adentro. Fomos recepcionados e nos levaram para a SuĂte Dolce Vita. Eu tentava prestar atenção em tudo a minha volta, no estilo antigo, mas luxuoso do hotel cinco estrelas. Quando finalmente estĂĄvamos sozinhos, eu me via sem graça, um pouco perdida. Eu observava a cama King size coberta os Lençóis brancos, eu jamais tinha dormido em algo do gĂŞnero. -- Gostou da nossa cama? A sua proximidade me fez dar um passo para trĂĄs e seu olhar se estreitou enquanto ele sorria e me observava. -- Eu...eu pensei que teria duas camas. A suĂte ĂŠ enorme, tem outros cĂ´modos e nĂŁo tem outra cama. Ele se aproximou lentamente, mas desta vez nĂŁo me afastei e nem desviei o meu olhar do seu. -- Eu te disse que nĂŁo passaremos dos b*ijos e em pĂşblico... Claro. No contrato, ele tinha deixado claro que eu deveria ser carinhosa e aceitar seus carinhos publicamente. E eu jĂĄ temia por isto. Eu me lembrava de cada linha do contrato. Meu coração parecia descontrolado quando ele se aproximava ainda mais. -- Respira, Karen. Cretino provocador! -- Pensei comigo. Eu apertei as minhas unhas na palma da mĂŁo e tentei disfarçar. -- Bom, eu vou arrumar as minhas coisas no armĂĄrio, se vocĂŞ assim me permitir. -- Eu tenho uma proposta melhor. Vou chamar a recepção e eles enviarĂŁo alguĂŠm para organizar tudo. Basta deixarmos as malas do lado que preferimos do closet. E descemos para o restaurante do hotel. Quero muito falar com vocĂŞ e obviamente te exibir, querida noiva. -- Tudo bem, vocĂŞ ĂŠ quem manda. Os olhos deles se estreitam, e ele sorriu. -- Palavras perigosas estas. Mas enfim, tomamos um banho e saĂmos daqui trinta minutos, tudo bem? -- Tudo bem, perfeito para mim, eu vou separar o que preciso agora, enquanto vocĂŞ usa o banheiro. -- Perfeito. Karen, eu quero te dizer, beba e coma o que quiser a qualquer momento. Se nĂŁo encontrar no frigobar ou na pequena cozinha do quarto, ordene para que a recepção te satisfaça. NĂŁo quero que fique me esperando para pedir algo para vocĂŞ. Se sentir vontade de algo, apenas ordene. VocĂŞ ĂŠ a minha noiva, lembre-se disto. Quero vocĂŞ saciada e satisfeita. Entendido? Ele realmente parecia ter optado por seguir me provocando. Mas eu nĂŁo revidaria. -- Sim, obrigada. Ele sorriu e caminhou com a sua mala de mĂŁo para o grande banheiro. Quando ele fechou a porta, eu decidi sair para o terraço. CapĂtulo 4 A ex noiva A vista para o mar era extremamente magnĂfica. Eu tinha que ligar para o Gabriel, peguei meu celular e disquei o nĂşmero do colĂŠgio. Neste momento, agradeci por estar usando um chip Internacional. Aguardei ansiosa enquanto o telefone tocava. ApĂłs ser atendida, transferiram a chamada para o quarto do Gabriel. E logo a voz doce e familiar me respondeu. --Karen.... -- Oi, Gabriel, meu amor, que saudades. -- Karen, que bom que vocĂŞ ligou, eu sei que vocĂŞ estĂĄ viajando, mas estou com muita saudade. Eu senti o meu coração apertar, imaginando o quanto era difĂcil para um garoto de dez anos ficar longe da sua Ăşnica famĂlia. Perdemos o papai em acidente quando o Gabriel tinha apenas quatro anos. E jĂĄ fazia dois anos que perdemos a mamĂŁe para uma doença fatal. Foi aĂ que eu assumi todas as responsabilidades. E, no inĂcio, consegui manter a casa e nossos estudos. Mas as contas foram aumentando, me deixando desesperada ao ponto de assumir a vida obscura que eu levava. Eu fiz poucos programas, mas desde o primeiro sempre desejei sair desta vida. Para o Gabriel eu dizia trabalhar como aeromoça de companhias particulares. E isto funcionava. Afinal eu tinha trabalhado com isto no passado. Ao menos o contrato com Dante, me permitiria sair da Red Angel e eu poderia ir visitĂĄ-lo com mais frequĂŞncia. E depois conseguir manter ele em casa comigo, pagando alguĂŠm para ajudar a cuidar dele. -- Sinto muito, querido, eu tambĂŠm estou morrendo de saudades, prometo que vou ligar mais vezes e logo estarei de volta. -- Eu estou indo muito bem, minhas notas sĂŁo boas. Eu quero muito te ver, Karen. Podemos fazer uma chamada de vĂdeo com o Skype qualquer dia desses? -- Vamos nos organizar. Sim, estou muito orgulhosa de vocĂŞ. Isto que estamos vivendo ĂŠ uma fase, se concentre nisto. Eu te amo muito, nunca se esqueça disto. -- Eu tambĂŠm te amo, Karen. Eu falei um pouco mais com o Gabriel. Minutos depois, eu desliguei o telefone e quando voltei para dentro, percebi que a porta estava entre aberta. Eu tinha certeza de que a tinha deixado aberta antes de ir para o terraço. Eu caminhei lentamente, a porta do quarto estava aberta. Dante estava enrolado na toalha, jogado na cama, mexendo em seu celular. E eu me peguei pensando se ele tinha ouvido toda a minha conversa. Ele levantou seu olhar e me disse. -- VocĂŞ tem vinte minutos. A sua voz era fria, e ele voltou novamente seu olhar para o celular. Eu tentei fingir que nĂŁo estava babando no seu corpo perfeito. E muito menos que estava desconfiada que ele tenha ouvido minha conversa com o Gabriel. -- Tudo bem, estarei pronta. Eu corri contra o tempo, agarrei a minha mala de mĂŁo com as coisas que eu tinha deixado separado. Fui para o banheiro, tomei banho, fiz maquiagem e sai de lĂĄ vestindo o roupĂŁo do hotel. Eu me vesti e me dei por satisfeita com o meu reflexo no espelho. -- Venha atĂŠ aqui. Eu dei passos lentos, com meu coração acelerado, seus olhos estavam calmos, me olhando. Ele me analisava de cima abaixo. Ele nĂŁo disse uma palavra, ele foi atĂŠ a sua mala e voltou se aproximando de mim. Percebi que ele tinha algo nas mĂŁos, mas nĂŁo tive tempo de identificar o que era, pois ele tirou a minha atenção falando comigo. -- Vire-se de costas. Eu queria discutir, rebater. Mas manter um contato visual com ele era ainda mais difĂcil. Obedeci, me virando e percebi que eu estava na frente do espelho, onde antes trocamos olhares. Ele se aproximou e seus dedos alisaram lentamente os meus cabelos, colocando-os de lado sobre o meu ombro. SĂł entĂŁo vi o colar delicado em suas mĂŁos deslizando para o meu pescoço. -- Vamos, estamos atrasados. -- Ele sussurrou. -- Eu achei que queria apenas conversar. NĂŁo pensei que teria um compromisso com hora marcada. -- Faremos isto apĂłs o jantar. Pois tĂŞm um grande cliente que se juntarĂĄ a nĂłs. Ele me ligou alguns minutos atrĂĄs. Eu senti um frio na barriga, fingir ser a noiva de um homem como ele nĂŁo seria algo fĂĄcil. Ele caminhou atĂŠ a porta enquanto peguei a minha bolsa. Quando saĂmos para o corredor, ele posicionou a sua mĂŁo nas minhas costas e de maneira gentil. -- Tudo bem, Karen? -- Eu estou um pouco nervosa. Na verdade, nunca fiz algo assim antes. -- Fique calma, apenas seja carinhosa, fale o mĂnimo possĂvel. Nos conhecemos em uma das minhas viagens. Nos encontramos algumas vezes e foi amor Ă primeira vista. EntĂŁo, ficamos noivos em uma viagem para a GrĂŠcia. -- Tudo bem, vou me lembrar disto, fique tranquilo. -- Eu sei que vocĂŞ se sairĂĄ muito bem sendo minha noiva. -- Ele sorriu e piscou para mim. Enquanto caminhĂĄvamos para o restaurante, eu fiquei pensando em como esta semana seria. Eu teria que fingir ser a sua noiva, teria que receber e dar todo o carinho para ele. Meu coração estava acelerado, mas com certeza isto era porque o jogo agora era para valer. E quando chegamos Ă mesa, um homem elegante se levantou e sorriu, estendendo a mĂŁo para Dante e olhando para mim. -- Boa noite, senhor Dante. Peço desculpas por interromper a sua noite. -- Ele apertou a mĂŁo de Dante enquanto falava. -- Senhor Gilbert, esta ĂŠ a minha noiva, Karen. -- Prazer em conhecĂŞ-la, senhorita Karen. -- Ele apertou a minha mĂŁo e sorriu. -- Prazer, senhor Gilbert. -- Ă um homem de sorte, Dante, sua noiva ĂŠ lindĂssima. Ele disse para o Dante, enquanto se sentava. -- Eu sei disso, tive sorte em encontrĂĄ-la. Dante disse enquanto e afastava a cadeira para que eu me sentasse. O garçom se aproximou e, enquanto Gilbert fez seu pedido, Dante sussurrou para mim. -- VocĂŞ quer olhar o cardĂĄpio? VocĂŞ fala italiano? -- Eu falo um pouco, mas ficarei confortĂĄvel se vocĂŞ escolher para mim. Ele apenas sorriu e se virou para o garçom, expressando-se em um italiano perfeito. Ele escolheu risoto com funghi porcini e tagliata de carne. Quando o garçom se afastou, ele começou a falar com o seu cliente sobre negĂłcios. E eu apenas fiquei ali, olhando o ambiente Ă nossa volta e apreciando a vista para o mar. Mas depois de um tempo ali, percebi dois casais em uma mesa ao fundo. Uma das mulheres nĂŁo parava de nos encarar. Uma loira muito bem-vestida e maquiada. O meu instinto me alertou no mesmo momento que aquela mulher teria alguma relação com o Dante. Eu me aproximei de Dante, ele parou de falar com o seu cliente e se girou para me b*ijar o rosto. Enquanto eu sussurrei em seu ouvido. -- A sua ex ĂŠ loira? -- Sim, como vocĂŞ sabe? Eu pisquei para ele. Logo ele entendeu a situação. ApĂłs assinar o contrato com o cliente, ele pegou minha mĂŁo e caminhou em direção ao loiro. -- Aqui estĂĄ sua chance de se exibir! Dante apertou ligeiramente a minha cintura. E eu me movi automaticamente para mais perto dele, que sorriu satisfeito... ...... O que acontecerĂĄ a seguir? O nĂşmero de capĂtulos exibidos aqui ĂŠ limitado. Por favor, clique no botĂŁo abaixo para baixar nosso aplicativo e ler mais capĂtulos. (Ao abrir o aplicativo, vocĂŞ irĂĄ automaticamente para este livro.) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.lera.mobi/6436409-fb_contact-pt01_2- | Loving reading | https://www.facebook.com/61567813351718/ | 380 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.lera.mobi | IMAGE | https://fbweb.lera.mobi/6436409-fb_contact-pt01_2-0906-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=241242718481731&rawadid=120215609901100663 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466349431_1108207577307547_6493025488115837922_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=esMjD-OrPYwQ7kNvgEKUkzs&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AN9IFGtRXwCWLeji_vgs1Yk&oh=00_AYA3HmJyfsKKM0BtCrC0TzeAqTu5nUMf41pYlgXcVbARfg&oe=6745AAFD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Loving reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 | ЧиŃаŃŃ ŃНодŃŃŃŃŃ ĐłĐťĐ°Đ˛Ńđ | ĐОгда Она ŃСнаНа, ŃŃĐž ноСнакОПŃĐš ĐźŃĐśŃина, Ń ĐşĐžŃĐžŃŃĐź Она ĐżŃОвоНа ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐżĐľŃвŃŃ ĐąŃаŃĐ˝ŃŃ Đ˝ĐžŃŃ, ОкаСаНŃŃ ĐľĐľ СакОннŃĐź ĐźŃМоП пО дОгОвОŃоннОŃŃи, Она ŃĐžŃНа Ń ŃПа! ===== ĐаПиННа ĐĐľŃŃОва ŃĐľĐłĐžĐ´Đ˝Ń Đ˛ŃŃНа СаПŃĐś. РноŃŃаŃŃŃŃ Đ´ĐťŃ Đ˝ĐľŃ, ĐśĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ° нигдо но ĐąŃНО виднО. Đна ОгНŃдоНа ĐżŃŃŃŃŃ ĐşĐžĐźĐ˝Đ°ŃŃ, и ĐľŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃĐž ŃŃаНО йоНŃĐź, ŃНОвнО ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃĐ˝Ń. Đна ŃŃвŃŃвОваНа ŃĐľĐąŃ ŃОвоŃŃоннО ŃниМоннОК. ĐаПиННа но МоНаНа ŃĐľŃпоŃŃ ŃŃĐž ĐžŃкОŃйНонио! ĐĐž ŃŃĐž Она ПОгНа пОдоНаŃŃ? ĐĄ ŃаПОгО ŃĐžĐśĐ´ĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˛ŃĐľ аŃпокŃŃ ĐľŃ ĐśĐ¸ĐˇĐ˝Đ¸ кОнŃŃОНиŃОваНиŃŃ Đ´ŃŃгиПи ĐťŃĐ´ŃПи. ХаПО ŃОйОК ŃаСŃПооŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐž каŃаНОŃŃ Đ¸ ĐľŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐźŃМоŃŃва. ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ĐżŃинŃдиН Đş ŃŃĐžĐźŃ ŃĐžŃĐˇŃ ĐžŃĐľŃ, ŃоНОвок, кОŃĐžŃŃĐź ŃĐżŃавНŃНа МаднОŃŃŃ. ĐŃ Đ´ĐľĐ´ŃŃка ŃайОŃаН ŃĐžŃŃŃОП Ń Đ ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐžĐ˝Đ° ĐОвикОва, ĐłĐťĐ°Đ˛Ń ĐźĐžĐłŃŃĐľŃŃвоннОК ŃоПŃи ĐОвикОвŃŃ . ĐĐž Đ´ĐžŃаднОК ŃĐťŃŃаКнОŃŃи Они пОпаНи в ŃМаŃĐ˝ŃŃ Đ°Đ˛Đ°ŃиŃ, в кОŃĐžŃОК дод ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ĐżĐžĐłĐ¸Đą, ŃпаŃĐ°Ń Đ ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐžĐ˝Đ°. РпОŃНоднио ПоŃŃŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐąĐžĐťŃŃĐ°Ń ĐşĐžĐźĐżĐ°Đ˝Đ¸Ń, кОŃĐžŃОК ŃĐżŃавНŃНа ĐľŃ ŃоПŃŃ, воСдо и вŃŃĐ´Ń ĐżĐžĐłŃŃСНа в ОгŃОПнŃŃ Đ´ĐžĐťĐłĐ°Ń . Đни Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐťĐ¸ŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ĐłŃани йанкŃĐžŃŃŃва. ĐĐľŃПОŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃŃĐž, ĐľŃ Ń Đ¸ŃŃŃĐš ĐžŃĐľŃ ĐžŃкаСаНŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃиŃŃ ĐżĐžĐźĐžŃи Ń ŃоПŃи ĐОвикОвŃŃ , СнаŃ, ŃŃĐž ŃŃĐž ĐžŃĐźĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ´ĐžĐťĐł, кОŃĐžŃŃĐš Они Đ´ĐžĐťĐśĐ˝Ń ĐąŃНи ŃоПŃĐľ ĐĐľŃŃОвŃŃ . ĐПоŃŃĐž ŃŃОгО Он ĐżŃидŃПаН пНан, ŃОгНаŃнО кОŃĐžŃĐžĐźŃ Đ˛Đ˝ŃĐş РОдиОна, ĐиŃаНиК ĐОвикОв, МониŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ĐаПиННо. ĐŁŃиŃŃĐ˛Đ°Ń ĐąĐžĐłĐ°ŃŃŃвО ŃоПŃи ĐОвикОвŃŃ , Они ĐąŃНи ŃвоŃонŃ, ŃŃĐž ŃĐľ дадŃŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃŃио донŃги в ОйПон на ŃŃĐşŃ Đ¸ ŃĐľŃĐ´ŃĐľ ĐаПиННŃ. Đ, в каŃĐľŃŃво дОпОНниŃоНŃнОгО йОнŃŃа, Они, накОноŃ, ŃŃŃанОвиНи ĐąŃ ĐąĐžĐťĐľĐľ ĐżŃĐžŃĐ˝ŃŃ ŃвŃĐˇŃ Ń ŃоПŃŃĐš ĐОвикОвŃŃ , кОŃĐžŃĐ°Ń ĐąŃНа ĐąŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐşĐžĐ˝Đ˝Đž ŃĐşŃопНона. РаСŃПооŃŃŃ, ŃоПŃŃ ĐОвикОвŃŃ Đ˝Đľ ПОгНа пОСвОНиŃŃ Ńойо ĐžŃкаСаŃŃŃŃ ĐžŃ ŃŃОгО ĐżŃодНОМониŃ, инаŃĐľ Они ŃиŃкОваНи пОŃĐľŃŃŃŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃĐž в ŃОП иНи инОП ŃĐťŃŃао. ĐиŃаНиК ŃĐľŃиН вŃŃаСиŃŃ ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ˝ĐľĐ´ĐžĐ˛ĐžĐťŃŃŃвО вŃоП ŃŃиП, но ŃвивŃиŃŃ Đ˝Đ° йанкоŃ, Ń ĐžŃŃ Đ˝Đ° Đ˝ŃĐź но ĐżŃиŃŃŃŃŃвОваНО никОгО, ĐşŃОПо ŃНонОв ŃоПоК. ĐĐ˝ ŃакМо ĐžŃкаСаН ĐаПиННо в иŃпОНŃСОвании ŃаПиНии ĐОвикОвŃŃ Đ¸ СапŃĐľŃиН оК гОвОŃиŃŃ ĐťŃĐ´ŃĐź, ŃŃĐž Она огО Мона. Đа ĐżŃĐžŃŃМонии вŃогО ŃŃОгО, ĐžŃ Đ˝Đ°ŃаНа и Đ´Đž кОнŃа, никŃĐž но пОŃŃŃдиНŃŃ ŃĐżŃĐžŃиŃŃ ĐźĐ˝ĐľĐ˝Đ¸Đľ ŃаПОК ĐаПиННŃ. ХоКŃĐ°Ń ĐžĐ˝Đ° ŃŃĐžĐ¸Ń Ń ĐżŃŃПОК ŃпинОК и ŃаŃĐżŃавНоннŃПи пНоŃаПи. ĐŃ ŃĐľŃниŃŃ, вОСПОМнО, ŃНогка Đ´ŃОМаНи, нО в ĐłĐťĐ°ĐˇĐ°Ń ŃиŃаНОŃŃ ŃĐżŃŃĐźŃŃвО. Đна но ŃОйиŃаНаŃŃ ĐżĐžĐ´Đ´Đ°Đ˛Đ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃниМониŃ. ĐĐž как оК ŃНодŃĐľŃ ĐżĐžŃŃŃпиŃŃ? Đ ŃĐž вŃоПŃ, кОгда довŃŃка ŃаСПŃŃĐťŃНа Đž ŃОП, как ĐżŃОводŃŃ ĐżĐľŃвŃŃ ĐąŃаŃĐ˝ŃŃ Đ˝ĐžŃŃ, Она пОНŃŃиНа ŃООйŃонио ĐžŃ ĐžĐ´Đ˝ĐžĐš иС ŃĐ˛ĐžĐ¸Ń ĐşĐžĐťĐťĐľĐł. ĐонŃина ĐżŃĐžŃиНа ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ĐżĐžĐ´ĐźĐľĐ˝Đ¸ŃŃ ĐľŃ Đ˝Đ° нОŃнОК ŃПоно. Та но ŃŃаНа дОНгО ŃаСдŃĐźŃваŃŃ. Đна вŃŃНа иС СаНа и вŃСваНа ŃакŃи, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐžŃĐżŃавиŃŃŃŃ Đ˛ йОНŃниŃŃ. ĐгнОвониоП пОСМо Она ОкаСаНаŃŃ Đ˛ кОПнаŃĐľ ĐžŃĐ´ŃŃ Đ° поŃŃОнаНа йОНŃниŃŃ, ĐżŃОвоŃŃŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐżĐ¸Ńи паŃионŃОв, а ĐľŃ Đ˛ĐľŃĐľŃноо пНаŃŃĐľ давнО ŃПониНОŃŃ ĐąĐľĐťŃĐź НайОŃаŃĐžŃĐ˝ŃĐź Ń Đ°ĐťĐ°ŃОП. ĐноСапнО двоŃŃ Ń ĐłŃОПкиП ŃŃŃкОП ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ Ń Đ˛Đ˝ĐľŃноК ŃŃĐžŃĐžĐ˝Ń Đ¸ ŃдаŃиНаŃŃ Đž ŃŃонŃ. ĐĐľ ŃŃпоНа ĐаПиННа пОднŃŃŃ ĐłĐťĐ°ĐˇĐ°, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ˛ĐˇĐłĐťŃĐ˝ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐž ĐżŃОиŃŃ ĐžĐ´Đ¸Ń, как двоŃŃ ŃнОва ĐˇĐ°Ń ĐťĐžĐżĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ. ĐаŃоП Она ŃŃĐťŃŃаНа ŃоНŃОк вŃкНŃŃаŃоНŃ, и в пОПоŃонии ŃŃаНО ŃоПнО. ĐĐž ĐľŃ Ńпино ĐżŃОйоМаН Ń ĐžĐťĐžĐ´ĐžĐş. ÂŤĐŃĐž...Âť ĐĐľ ŃŃпоНа Она дОгОвОŃиŃŃ, как ĐľŃ ŃОНкнŃНи на ŃŃОН. ĐŃŃа канŃоНŃŃŃĐşĐ¸Ń ĐżŃинадНоМнОŃŃоК ŃпаНа на пОН, и в ŃŃĐžŃ ĐźĐžĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐžĐ˝Đ° пОŃŃвŃŃвОваНа, как Đş ĐľŃ Ńоо ĐżŃиМаНŃŃ Ń ĐžĐťĐžĐ´Đ˝ŃĐš ĐžŃŃŃŃĐš Đş*аК Đ˝*Ма. ÂŤĐ˘Đ¸Ń Đž!Âť - ŃвиŃопО ĐżŃĐžŃопŃаН нападавŃиК. ĐовŃŃка одва ПОгНа ŃаСгНŃĐ´ĐľŃŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃĐž ĐźŃĐśŃинŃ, Ń ĐžŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž гНаСа вŃдоНŃНиŃŃ. Đни ПоŃŃаНи в ŃŃŃкНОП ŃвоŃĐľ, огО вСгНŃĐ´ ĐąŃĐť пОНОн йдиŃоНŃнОŃŃи. РвОСдŃŃ Đľ вОкŃŃĐł Đ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˛Đ¸ŃаН СнакОПŃĐš ĐˇĐ°ĐżĐ°Ń ĐśĐľĐťĐľĐˇĐ°, и Она пОнŃНа, ŃŃĐž ŃŃĐžŃ ŃоНОвок Ńанон. ĐНагОдаŃŃ ĐźĐ˝ĐžĐłĐžĐťĐľŃĐ˝ĐľĐźŃ ĐžĐąŃŃĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ¸ ОпŃŃŃ Đ˛ŃаŃа, ĐаПиННа ŃПОгНа ŃĐžŃ ŃаниŃŃ ŃпОкОКŃŃвио. ĐаŃоП Она ПодНоннО ŃОгнŃНа ĐžĐ´Đ˝Ń Đ˝ĐžĐłŃ, пНаниŃŃŃ Đ°ŃакОваŃŃ ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń ĐşĐžĐťĐľĐ˝ĐžĐź. ĐĐž ŃĐžŃ Đ˛Đ¸Đ´ĐľĐť ĐľŃ Đ˝Đ°ŃквОСŃ. Đак ŃОНŃкО Он пОŃŃвŃŃвОваН ĐľŃ Đ´Đ˛Đ¸ĐśĐľĐ˝Đ¸Đľ, ŃĐž Ń ŃиНОК ŃМаН ĐľŃ Đ˝ĐžĐłĐ¸ вПоŃŃĐľ и ĐżŃиМаН Đş ŃŃĐžĐťŃ ŃвОиПи ПОŃĐ˝ŃПи ĐąŃĐ´ŃаПи. ĐĐ´ŃŃĐł в кОŃидОŃĐľ пОŃĐťŃŃаНŃŃ ŃŃĐź ŃагОв. Đни напŃавНŃНиŃŃ ĐżŃŃПО в кОПнаŃŃ ĐžŃĐ´ŃŃ Đ° поŃŃОнаНа. ÂŤĐŃŃŃŃоо, Ń Đ˛Đ¸Đ´ĐľĐťĐ°, как Он ŃŃĐť ŃŃда!Âť ĐĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃнО ĐąŃНО ОднОгО ĐşŃика Đž пОПОŃи, и ŃŃи ĐťŃди вОŃваНиŃŃ ĐąŃ Đ˛ кОПнаŃŃ. ĐŃŃаŃвŃиŃŃ, ĐźŃĐśŃина ОпŃŃŃиН ĐłĐžĐťĐžĐ˛Ń Đ¸ пО**НОваН ĐаПиННŃ. Đна ŃŃаНа йОŃĐžŃŃŃŃ Đ¸ ĐąŃНа ŃдивНона ŃоП, ŃŃĐž ŃПОгНа НогкО ĐžŃŃОНкнŃŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž. ТоП йОНоо, ŃŃĐž ĐźŃĐśŃина йОНŃŃĐľ но ŃĐłŃОМаН оК Đ˝*МОП. ĐŃŃНи довŃŃки СаПоŃаНиŃŃ. Đ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐźĐžĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ŃĐžŃ, ĐşŃĐž Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐťŃŃ ĐżĐž ŃŃ ŃŃĐžŃĐžĐ˝Ń Đ´Đ˛ĐľŃи, ŃŃ Đ˛Đ°ŃиНŃŃ ĐˇĐ° ŃŃŃĐşŃ. ĐŃинŃв ŃĐľŃонио, ĐаПиННа ĐżŃиŃŃĐ˝ŃНа ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń Đş Ńойо и ОйвиНа ŃŃкаПи огО ŃĐľŃ. Đа ŃŃĐžŃ ŃаС Она пО**НОваНа огО. ÂŤĐŻ ĐźĐžĐłŃ Đ˛Đ°Đź пОПОŃŃÂť, - ĐżŃОйОŃПОŃаНа Она пОд нОŃ, надоŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐž ĐľŃ ŃŃŃĐ°Ń Đ˝Đľ ĐąŃĐť СаПоŃон. ĐŃĐśŃина ŃŃПнО ŃгНОŃĐ˝ŃĐť. ĐĐźŃ ĐżĐžŃŃойОваНаŃŃ ŃокŃнда, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżŃинŃŃŃ ŃĐľŃонио, СаŃоП Она пОŃŃвŃŃвОваНа огО гОŃŃŃоо Đ´ŃŃ Đ°Đ˝Đ¸Đľ Ń ŃвОогО ŃŃ Đ°: ÂŤĐŻ вОСŃĐźŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐľĐąŃ ĐžŃвоŃŃŃвоннОŃŃŃ ĐˇĐ° ŃŃО. ĐгО ĐłĐžĐťĐžŃ ĐąŃĐť ниСкиП и ĐżŃиŃŃгаŃоНŃĐ˝ŃĐź. ĐĐž Он, ĐżĐžŃ ĐžĐśĐľ, нопŃавиНŃнО пОнŃĐť. Đна Ń ĐžŃоНа, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ˛ŃŃ ŃŃĐž ĐąŃНО ĐżŃиŃвОŃŃŃвОП. ĐĐ˝ но дОНМон ĐąŃĐť ни Са ŃŃĐž ĐąŃаŃŃ ĐžŃвоŃŃŃвоннОŃŃŃ. Đ ŃНодŃŃŃŃŃ ŃокŃĐ˝Đ´Ń Đ´Đ˛ĐľŃŃ ŃнОва ŃаŃĐżĐ°Ń Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ. ĐаПиННа и ĐźŃĐśŃина ŃŃŃ ĐśĐľ ŃНиНиŃŃ Đ˛ ĐžŃĐľŃоднОП пО**ĐťŃĐľ. ĐĐľŃПОŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° Đ¸Ń ĐˇĐ°ŃŃŃдниŃоНŃнОо пОНОМонио, ĐźŃĐśŃина ОйнаŃŃМиН, ŃŃĐž огО ŃоНО ŃŃоагиŃОваНО на СвŃĐş. ĐĐ˝ ПОг ĐąŃ ĐżĐžŃĐľŃŃŃŃŃŃ Đ˛ Đ˝ŃĐź, ĐľŃНи ĐąŃ ĐťŃди Са двоŃŃŃ Đ˝Đľ СагОвОŃиНи. Ч*ŃŃ Đ˛*СŃПи! Đа ŃŃĐž Мо ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž Ń**ŃŃŃаŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐžŃка. ЧŃвак, Они и впŃĐ°Đ˛Đ´Ń ĐˇĐ°Đ˝Đ¸ĐźĐ°ŃŃŃŃ ŃŃиП в йОНŃниŃĐľ. ĐПоКŃĐľ Ń ĐžŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐźĐ˝ĐžĐłĐž ĐżŃиНиŃиŃ!Âť ĐĄĐ˛ĐľŃ Đ¸Đˇ кОŃидОŃа ĐżŃОникаН в кОПнаŃŃ, ĐžĐąĐ˝Đ°ĐśĐ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃŃ. ĐднакО ŃоНО ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń ĐąŃНО ĐžĐąŃ Đ˛Đ°ŃонО ĐаПиННОК, ŃĐşŃŃĐ˛Đ°Ń ĐľĐłĐž НиŃĐž ĐžŃ ĐťŃйОпŃŃĐ˝ŃŃ ĐłĐťĐ°Đˇ ноСванŃŃ ĐłĐžŃŃоК. ЧŃĐž Đś, ŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃнО но ĐиŃаНиК. ĐŃĐžŃ ŃйНŃдОк ŃŃМоНО Ńанон. ĐоваМнО, наŃкОНŃкО ŃОйНаСниŃоНŃна МонŃина, Ń ŃОПноваŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐž Ń Đ˝ĐľĐłĐž Ń Đ˛Đ°ŃĐ¸Ń ŃиН ŃдоНаŃŃ Ń Đ˝ĐľĐš ŃŃĐž-нийŃĐ´ŃÂť. ÂŤĐĐž, ŃŃвак, ŃŃа МонŃина иСдаŃŃ Đ´ĐžĐ˛ĐžĐťŃнО ĐżŃиŃŃĐ˝ŃĐľ СвŃки, а?Âť ÂŤĐаŃкниŃŃ Đ¸ пОŃовоНиваКŃŃ! ĐаП Đ˝ŃМнО наКŃи ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń ĐşĐ°Đş ПОМнО ŃкОŃоо, инаŃĐľ ĐźŃ ĐżĐžŃĐľŃŃоП гОНОвŃ!Âť ĐĐžŃĐťŃŃаНŃŃ ŃĐžŃĐžŃ Đ¸ ŃĐžĐżĐžŃ Đ˝ĐžĐł, и ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń ĐąŃĐžŃиНиŃŃ ĐżŃĐžŃŃ, а двоŃŃ Đ˛ĐľŃĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˛ ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ¸ŃŃ ĐžĐ´Đ˝ĐžĐľ пОНОМонио. ĐŃĐśŃина СнаН, ŃŃĐž огО ĐżŃĐľŃНодОваŃоНи ŃŃНи, нО ĐžŃОСнанио ŃОгО, ŃŃĐž ŃопоŃŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ¸ ĐžŃŃаНиŃŃ ĐžĐ´Đ˝Đ¸, пОдоКŃŃвОваНО на огО ŃаПООйНаданио. ĐĐ˝ ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž ŃĐžŃваНŃŃ, и Đ˝ĐľĐžĐśĐ¸Đ´Đ°Đ˝Đ˝Đ°Ń Đ˛ĐžĐťĐ˝Đ° Đż**ĐžŃи ĐˇĐ°Ń ĐťĐľŃŃĐ˝ŃНа огО. ĐŃĐžŃ ĐżĐžŃОк Мо**Đ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˝Đľ ОйОŃŃĐť ŃŃĐžŃОнОК и ĐаПиННŃ. ĐОСПОМнО, доНО ĐąŃНО в Đ¸Ń ĐąĐťĐ¸ĐˇĐžŃŃи, иНи в ŃОП, как инŃиПнО Они каŃаНиŃŃ Đ´ŃŃĐł Đ´ŃŃга, а ĐźĐžĐśĐľŃ ĐąŃŃŃ, вО вноСапнОП ĐżŃиНиво адŃонаНина, нО на пОвоŃŃ Đ˝ĐžŃŃŃ ĐżĐžĐ´Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ ĐąŃĐ˝ŃаŃŃĐşĐ°Ń ĐśĐ¸ĐťĐşĐ°, Đž кОŃĐžŃОК Она даМо но пОдОСŃоваНа. ĐĐž ŃŃОгО ПОПонŃа довŃŃка МиНа ŃĐľŃОК ОднООйŃаСнОК МиСнŃŃ, вŃогда пОдŃинŃŃŃŃ ĐżŃавиНаП и пНанаП, ŃŃŃанОвНоннŃĐź Đ´ĐťŃ Đ˝ĐľŃ Đ´ŃŃгиПи. Đа ŃŃĐžŃ ŃаС - Ń ĐžŃŃ ĐąŃ ŃаС - Она ŃОйиŃаНаŃŃ ĐżĐžĐąĐ°ĐťĐžĐ˛Đ°ŃŃ ŃойŃ. ĐовŃŃка ĐžŃĐąŃĐžŃиНа ŃвОи СапŃĐľŃŃ Đ¸ ĐżŃодОŃŃавиНа ĐźŃĐśŃино ŃĐ˛ĐžĐąĐžĐ´Ń Đ´ĐľĐšŃŃвиК, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐžĐ˝ доНаН вŃŃ, ŃŃĐž ĐˇĐ°Ń ĐžŃĐľŃ. ĐОгда Они СакОнŃиНи, ĐźŃĐśŃина ноМнО пОŃоНОваН ĐľŃ Đ˛ ŃŃĐşŃ. ÂŤĐŻ ĐżŃĐ¸Đ´Ń ĐˇĐ° ŃОйОК, - ĐżŃĐžŃопŃаН Он, в огО гОНОŃĐľ вŃŃ ĐľŃŃ ŃĐťŃŃаНиŃŃ ĐžŃгОНОŃки наŃНаМдониŃ. РСаŃоП Он ŃŃŃĐť, Ńак Мо вноСапнО, как и ĐżŃиŃŃĐť. ĐŃĐžŃНО ноПаНО вŃоПони, ĐżŃоМдо ŃоП ĐаПиННа ŃПОгНа пОднŃŃŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° нОги. ТиŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń Đ˛ кОПнаŃĐľ наŃŃŃиН СвОнОк ĐľŃ ŃоНоŃОна. Đна ОгНŃдоНаŃŃ Đ¸ ОйнаŃŃМиНа, ŃŃĐž Он ĐťĐľĐśĐ¸Ń Đ˝Đ° ĐşŃĐ°Ń ŃŃОНа. ĐаПиННа ŃŃ Đ˛Đ°ŃиНа ŃоНоŃОн, пОка Он но ŃпаН, и наМаНа на ĐşĐ˝ĐžĐżĐşŃ ĐžŃвоŃа. ÂŤĐОкŃĐžŃ! - ŃаСдаНŃŃ Đ˛ĐˇĐ˛ĐžĐťĐ˝ĐžĐ˛Đ°Đ˝Đ˝ŃĐš гОНОŃ. -Đ ŃонŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐžŃНОМнОК пОПОŃи ŃОНŃкО ŃŃĐž ĐżŃивоСНи паŃионŃа. ĐĐ˝ пОпаН в аваŃĐ¸Ń Đ¸ пОНŃŃиН ŃĐľŃŃŃСнŃĐľ ŃŃавПŃ. ĐаП Đ˝ŃМнО, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ˛Ń Đ˝ĐľĐźĐľĐ´ĐťĐľĐ˝Đ˝Đž ОкаСаНи ĐľĐźŃ ĐżĐžĐźĐžŃŃ!Âť ĐаПиННа ĐżŃĐžŃиŃŃиНа гОŃНО, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐłĐžĐťĐžŃ ĐˇĐ˛ŃŃаН ŃОвнО: ÂŤĐĽĐžŃĐžŃĐž, Ń ĐąŃĐ´Ń ŃĐľŃоС ПинŃŃŃÂť. Đна пОНОМиНа ŃŃŃĐąĐşŃ Đ¸ напŃавиНаŃŃ Đş двоŃи, нО ĐžŃŃанОвиНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° пОŃОго. Đна ОгНŃдоНа ŃойŃ. Đна и впŃĐ°Đ˛Đ´Ń ĐˇĐ°Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ Ń*ĐşŃОП Ń Đ˝ĐľĐˇĐ˝Đ°ĐşĐžĐźŃоП в ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐąŃаŃĐ˝ŃŃ Đ˝ĐžŃŃ. ĐŃĐž ĐąŃĐť ŃаПŃĐš вОСПŃŃиŃоНŃĐ˝ŃĐš пОŃŃŃпОк в ĐľŃ ĐśĐ¸ĐˇĐ˝Đ¸! ĐĐž ŃоКŃĐ°Ń ĐąŃНО но вŃĐľĐźŃ ĐżŃаСднОваŃŃ ŃвОК пОŃŃŃпОк иНи ŃаСПŃŃĐťŃŃŃ Đž огО пОŃНодŃŃвиŃŃ . ĐаПиННа ĐżŃивоНа ŃĐľĐąŃ Đ˛ пОŃŃдОк и ĐžŃĐżŃавиНаŃŃ Đ˛ ŃонŃŃ ŃĐşŃŃŃоннОК пОПОŃи. ĐĐľŃŃ ĐžŃŃаŃОк нОŃи Она ĐąŃНа СанŃŃа ŃайОŃОК. ĐОгда Она Đ˝Đ°ĐşĐžĐ˝ĐľŃ ĐžŃвОйОдиНаŃŃ, ŃМо йНиСиНŃŃ ŃаŃŃвоŃ. ĐĐľŃĐ˝ŃвŃиŃŃ Đ˛ кОПнаŃŃ ĐžŃĐ´ŃŃ Đ° поŃŃОнаНа, Она ОйнаŃŃМиНа, ŃŃĐž в кОПнаŃĐľ ĐąŃНО вŃŃ Ńак Мо ĐłŃŃСнО. Đ Ńки довŃŃки ŃМаНиŃŃ Đ˛ ĐşŃНаки, а в гОНОво ĐżŃОноŃНиŃŃ Đ˛ĐžŃĐżĐžĐźĐ¸Đ˝Đ°Đ˝Đ¸Ń Đž ĐąŃŃнОП ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃŃŃ. ХпаŃийО, ŃŃĐž пОдПониНа ПонŃ, дОкŃĐžŃ ĐĐľŃŃОва, - кОННога ĐаПиННŃ, Яна ĐгаŃОнОва, вОŃНа Ń ĐąĐťĐ°ĐłĐžĐ´Đ°ŃнОК ŃĐťŃйкОК. Та вŃдавиНа иС ŃĐľĐąŃ ŃĐťŃйкŃ: ÂŤĐОМаНŃĐšŃŃа. ÂŤĐаНŃŃĐľ Ń ŃĐżŃавНŃŃŃ ŃаПа. Тойо ŃНодŃĐľŃ Đ˛ĐľŃĐ˝ŃŃŃŃŃ Đ¸ ноПнОгО ĐžŃĐ´ĐžŃ Đ˝ŃŃŃ, - Яна пОŃПОŃŃоНа на ĐąŃПаги, ŃаСйŃĐžŃаннŃĐľ пО пОНŃ, и ĐżŃипОднŃНа ĐąŃОви. - ЧŃĐž СдоŃŃ ĐżŃОиСОŃНО? ĐĐžŃĐľĐźŃ Đ˛ŃŃ Đ˛Đ°ĐťŃĐľŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° пОНŃ?Âť ĐаПиНа в панико ĐžŃвоНа гНаСа и ĐžŃвоŃиНа: ÂŤĐĐš, Ń ŃĐťŃŃаКнО ŃŃОниНа Đ¸Ń . ĐОМаНŃĐšŃŃа, ĐżŃийоŃиŃŃ ĐˇĐ´ĐľŃŃ. ĐŻ ŃŃŃаНа, пОŃŃĐžĐźŃ ĐżĐžĐšĐ´ŃÂť. Яно пОкаСаНŃŃ ŃŃŃаннŃĐź ĐžŃĐ˛ĐľŃ ĐаПиННŃ, нО Она но ĐżŃидаНа ŃŃĐžĐźŃ ĐˇĐ˝Đ°ŃониŃ. Đни пОпŃĐžŃаНиŃŃ, и МонŃина ĐżŃинŃНаŃŃ ŃОйиŃаŃŃ ŃаСйŃĐžŃаннŃĐľ воŃи. Đна одва ŃŃпоНа наŃаŃŃ, как в двоŃŃŃ ĐżĐžŃвиНŃŃ ŃаП диŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ, а Са ниП - пОПОŃник ĐиŃаНиŃ. ĐНава 2 ЧŃвŃŃвО Đ˛Đ¸Đ˝Ń ÂŤĐŃĐž вŃаŃ, доМŃŃивŃĐ°Ń Đ˛ŃĐľŃа воŃĐľŃОП, - ŃкаСаН диŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ. - ĐОкŃĐžŃ ĐŻĐ˝Đ° ĐгаŃОнОва. ĐŃŃиŃŃĐľĐ˝Ń ĐиŃаНиŃ, ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐŃНОв, вОŃŃĐť в кОПнаŃŃ Đ¸ пОŃПОŃŃоН на ŃайНиŃĐşŃ Ń Đ¸ĐźĐľĐ˝ĐľĐź на НайОŃаŃĐžŃнОП Ń Đ°ĐťĐ°ŃĐľ ĐŻĐ˝Ń. ÂŤĐОКдŃĐźŃĐľ ŃĐž ПнОК. Яна ĐąŃНа в СаПоŃаŃоНŃŃŃво. ÂŤĐŃда ĐźŃ Đ¸Đ´ŃĐź?Âť ĐĐž диŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ Đ˝Đľ ĐˇĐ°Ń ĐžŃоН ĐžŃвоŃаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ĐľŃ Đ˛ĐžĐżŃĐžŃ. ĐĐ˝ Ń ŃиНОК пОŃŃĐ˝ŃĐť ĐľŃ ĐˇĐ° ŃŃĐşŃ Đ¸ ŃкаСаН: ÂŤĐŃĐžŃŃĐž пОКдŃĐźŃĐľ. ĐĐľ СаŃŃавНŃĐšŃĐľ гОŃпОдина ĐОвикОва МдаŃŃÂť. ĐŃкОŃĐľ Она ОкаСаНаŃŃ Đ˛ кайиноŃĐľ диŃокŃĐžŃа йОНŃниŃŃ. ĐиŃаНиК ŃидоН на дивано, огО Ń ŃĐ´ĐžŃавОо и ĐźŃŃĐşŃНиŃŃОо ŃоНО ĐžŃкинŃНОŃŃ Đ˝Đ°ĐˇĐ°Đ´ в нопŃинŃМдŃннОК пОСо, а дНиннŃĐľ нОги ĐąŃНи ŃĐşŃĐľŃĐľĐ˝Ń ĐżĐľŃод ниП. ĐŃМнО ĐąŃНО иПоŃŃ ĐžŃŃŃŃĐš гНаС и ĐżŃиŃПОŃŃĐľŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐžĐ˛Đ˝Đ¸ĐźĐ°ŃоНŃноо, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżĐžĐ˝ŃŃŃ, ŃŃĐž огО ĐłŃĐąŃ ĐąŃНи йНодноо ОйŃŃнОгО. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃоСкиК ĐˇĐ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đ´ĐľĐˇĐ¸Đ˝ŃиŃиŃŃŃŃогО ŃŃодŃŃва, кОŃĐžŃŃĐź ĐąŃНи ĐżŃОпиŃĐ°Đ˝Ń ŃŃĐľĐ˝Ń ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ, ŃĐşŃŃваН ĐˇĐ°ĐżĐ°Ń Đş**ви на огО кОМо. ĐĐ˝ ĐąŃĐť ĐžĐ´ĐľŃ Đ˛ ŃиŃŃŃĐš ŃŃŃĐ˝ŃĐš кОŃŃŃĐź, кОŃĐžŃŃĐš ŃакМо пОПОг ŃĐşŃŃŃŃ ĐşŃаŃĐ˝ŃĐľ ĐżŃŃна, в ĐżŃĐžŃивнОП ŃĐťŃŃао вŃŃŃовОМивŃио ĐąŃ Đ˛ŃĐľŃ ĐžĐşŃŃМаŃŃĐ¸Ń . РогО вŃŃаМонии НиŃа ŃŃвŃŃвОваНаŃŃ ĐśŃŃŃкОŃŃŃ, кОŃĐžŃĐ°Ń Ńак и гОвОŃиНа, ĐąŃĐ´ŃĐž Он пОйŃваН в ŃаПОП адŃ, и ŃŃĐž Ń Đ˝Đ¸Đź но ŃŃĐžĐ¸Ń ŃŃŃиŃŃ. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐżĐžĐ´ĐžŃŃĐť Đş Đ´Đ¸Đ˛Đ°Đ˝Ń Đ¸ накНОниНŃŃ ĐżĐžĐąĐťĐ¸ĐśĐľ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżŃĐžŃопŃаŃŃ ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń Đ˝Đ° ŃŃ Đž: ÂŤĐидоОСапиŃи Ń ĐşĐ°ĐźĐľŃ Đ˝Đ°ĐąĐťŃĐ´ĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃи ĐąŃНи наПоŃоннО пОддоНанŃ, ŃкОŃоо вŃогО, ŃŃĐž ŃдоНаНи ваŃи нападавŃио. Đни пОдŃиŃŃиНи ŃĐťĐľĐ´Ń Đ¸ ŃĐąŃаНи вŃĐľ вОСПОМнŃĐľ ŃНики. ĐŃĐž дОкŃĐžŃ ĐŻĐ˝Đ° ĐгаŃОнОва, доМŃŃивŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃŃŃ. ĐиŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ ŃаП пОдŃвоŃдиН ŃŃĐž. ĐŻ ŃакМо поŃопŃОвоŃиН СапиŃи. ĐŃĐž доКŃŃвиŃоНŃнО Она. ТОНŃкО ŃОгда ĐиŃаНиК пОднŃĐť гНаСа. ĐŁ ĐŻĐ˝Ń ŃоСкО поŃĐľŃ Đ˛Đ°ŃиНО Đ´ŃŃ Đ°Đ˝Đ¸Đľ и Она пОнŃНа, ŃŃĐž поŃод ноК ŃаП йОŃŃ ĐşĐžŃпОŃаŃии ÂŤĐаŃаПаŃĐ˝ŃÂť. ÂŤĐŃ ŃĐžŃ ŃоНОвок, кОŃĐžŃŃĐš пОПОг Пно ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃŃŃ?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиН ĐиŃаНиК, ОгНŃĐ´ŃĐ˛Đ°Ń ĐľŃ Ń ĐłĐžĐťĐžĐ˛Ń Đ´Đž нОг. Яна ŃŃŃ ĐśĐľ ĐżŃигнŃНа гОНОвŃ, но ŃĐľŃаŃŃŃ Đ˛ŃŃŃĐľŃиŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐłŃОСнŃĐź вСгНŃдОП ĐźŃĐśŃинŃ. ÂŤĐа... Đ-ŃŃĐž ĐąŃНа ŃÂť, - Она но ŃОвŃоП пОниПаНа, Đž ŃŃĐź идŃŃ ŃĐľŃŃ, нО СнаНа, ŃŃĐž в ĐľŃ Đ¸Đ˝ŃĐľŃĐľŃĐ°Ń Đ˛ĐžĐšŃи в дОвоŃио Đş ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń ĐОвикОвŃ. ĐŃгОда но СаŃŃĐ°Đ˛Đ¸Ń ŃĐľĐąŃ ĐśĐ´Đ°ŃŃ. Так ŃĐťŃŃиНОŃŃ, ŃŃĐž в ЌонŃŃаНŃнОП вОоннОП гОŃпиŃаНо ŃОйиŃаНиŃŃ ĐžŃОйŃаŃŃ ĐşĐ°Đ˝Đ´Đ¸Đ´Đ°ŃОв Đ´ĐťŃ ĐżŃĐžŃ ĐžĐśĐ´ĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐżŃакŃики. Đ Ń ĐžŃŃ ŃŃĐž ĐąŃНО ОйОСнаŃонО как ŃакОвОо, вŃĐľ в ŃŃОК ĐžŃŃаŃНи СнаНи, ŃŃĐž инŃĐľŃĐ˝Ń Đ˛ кОноŃнОП иŃОго ĐąŃĐ´ŃŃ ĐżŃинŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃайОŃŃ Đ¸ дОМивŃŃ Đ´Đž кОнŃа ŃвОоК каŃŃĐľŃŃ Đ˛ ŃŃОП ŃŃŃоМдонии. ĐŃНи ŃĐś на ŃĐž пОŃНО, ЌонŃŃаНŃĐ˝ŃĐš вОоннŃĐš гОŃпиŃĐ°ĐťŃ Đ¸ĐźĐľĐť Đ´ĐžŃŃŃĐż Đş ŃĐľŃŃŃŃаП, кОŃĐžŃŃĐľ ĐąŃНи наПнОгО ĐťŃŃŃĐľ, ŃоП в ŃŃОК йОНŃниŃĐľ. Яна пНаниŃОваНа пОдŃŃМиŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐиŃаНиоП в надоМдо иŃпОНŃСОваŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž ŃвŃСи, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżĐžĐżĐ°ŃŃŃ Đ˛ ĐťŃŃŃŃŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ. ÂŤĐŻ ĐźĐžĐłŃ ĐşĐžĐźĐżĐľĐ˝ŃиŃОваŃŃ Ńойо вŃоП, ŃоП ŃŃ ĐˇĐ°Ń ĐžŃĐľŃŃ, даМо ĐąŃакОП, - вноСапнО ĐżŃĐľŃваН ĐľŃ ĐźŃŃНи Ń ĐžĐťĐžĐ´Đ˝ŃĐš ĐłĐžĐťĐžŃ ĐиŃаНиŃ. ĐгО НиŃĐž ĐžŃŃаваНОŃŃ ĐžŃŃŃŃанŃннŃĐź, нО ĐźŃŃĐťŃ Đž вŃĐľŃаŃноК нОŃи ŃĐźŃĐłŃиНа ĐśŃŃŃĐşŃŃ ĐťĐ¸Đ˝Đ¸Ń ĐľĐłĐž ŃŃа. ЧŃĐž Đś... ĐŻ...Âť - ŃŃĐž ĐąŃНО наŃŃОНŃкО ноОМиданнО, ŃоП Яна ПОгНа Ńойо ĐżŃодŃŃавиŃŃ, ŃŃĐž Она Ń ŃŃŃдОП ПОгНа пОдОйŃаŃŃ ŃНОва. ÂŤĐŃĐ¸Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ кО Пно, как ŃОНŃкО ĐżŃиПоŃŃ ŃĐľŃонио, - вŃŃаН ĐиŃаНиК и МоŃŃОП пОпŃĐžŃиН ĐониŃа даŃŃ ĐľĐš ŃвОК кОнŃакŃĐ˝ŃĐš ŃоНоŃОн. ĐиŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ ĐżĐžŃпоŃиН и ĐżŃодНОМиН ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń ĐżŃОвОдиŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž Đş вŃŃ ĐžĐ´Ń. ÂŤĐ ŃŃОП Đ˝ĐľŃ Đ˝ĐľĐžĐąŃ ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐźĐžŃŃи, - ĐžŃкаСаНŃŃ ŃĐžŃ, и вŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž пОводонио ŃнОва ŃŃаНО Ń ĐžĐťĐžĐ´Đ˝ŃĐź. ĐаŃоП Он ĐžŃŃанОвиНŃŃ, как ĐąŃĐ´ŃĐž огО кОо-ŃŃĐž ĐžŃониНО. ĐĐ˝ ОйоŃĐ˝ŃĐťŃŃ Đş диŃокŃĐžŃŃ Đ¸ ŃкаСаН: ÂŤĐОМаНŃĐšŃŃа, пОСайОŃŃŃĐľŃŃ Đž ноК. ÂŤĐОноŃнО, - СавоŃиН огО диŃокŃĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃниŃŃ Ń Đ˛ĐľĐśĐťĐ¸Đ˛ĐžĐš ŃĐťŃйкОК. УйодивŃиŃŃ, ŃŃĐž Они Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐžĐ´ŃŃŃŃ Đ˛Đ˝Đľ ĐżŃодоНОв ŃĐťŃŃиПОŃŃи, ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐżĐžĐ´ĐžŃŃĐť Đş ĐиŃаНиŃ. ÂŤĐаŃаНŃник, - ОйŃаŃиНŃŃ ĐžĐ˝ ŃĐ¸Ń Đ¸Đź, нО наŃŃĐžŃŃоНŃĐ˝ŃĐź гОНОŃОП, - Đ˛Ń Đ˛ĐľĐ´Ń ŃМо МонаŃŃ. ĐŻ но Đ´ŃПаŃ, ŃŃĐž ĐąŃак ŃвНŃĐľŃŃŃ ĐżŃиоПНоПŃĐź ваŃианŃОП Đ´ĐťŃ ĐłĐžŃпОМи ĐгаŃОнОвОК. ĐаП ŃНодŃĐľŃ ĐžŃкаСаŃŃŃŃ ĐžŃ ŃŃОгО ĐżŃодНОМониŃÂť. ĐŃĐąŃ ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń Đ´ŃŃĐ˝ŃНиŃŃ ĐżŃи ŃпОПинании Đž огО ĐąŃако, а НиŃĐž ĐľŃŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃŃĐľ пОПŃаŃноНО, кОгда Он пОдŃПаН Đž МонŃино, на кОŃĐžŃОК огО СаŃŃавиНи МониŃŃŃŃ. Тойо ŃŃĐž, МиŃŃ Đ˝Đ°Đ´ĐžĐľĐťĐž?Âť - ĐżŃигŃОСиН Он ŃĐ˛ĐžĐľĐźŃ ĐżĐžĐźĐžŃникŃ. Đ˘ĐžŃ ĐżĐžĐ˝ŃĐť, ŃŃĐž ŃкаСаН ŃĐž, ŃогО но ŃНодОваНО, и ŃŃŃ ĐśĐľ СадŃОМаН. Đ ŃŃĐžŃ ĐźĐžĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐžĐ˝ но СнаН, ĐşŃĐž йОНŃŃĐľ вŃогО ĐˇĐťĐ¸Ń ĐľĐłĐž йОŃŃа - Đ˝ĐžĐ˛Đ°Ń Đ˝ĐľĐ˛ĐľŃŃа иНи ŃоНОвок, ŃŃĐžŃŃиК Са вŃĐľŃаŃниП нападониоП. ТоП вŃоПоноП ĐаПиННа воŃĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° виННŃ, кОŃĐžŃŃŃ Đ´ĐžĐťĐśĐ˝Đ° ĐąŃНа доНиŃŃ Ń ĐźŃМоП. ĐкОнОПка ŃŃĐľĐ´Đ˝Đ¸Ń ĐťĐľŃ, ĐикŃĐžŃĐ¸Ń Đ ĐžĐźĐ°Đ˝ĐžĐ˛Đ°, вŃŃŃĐľŃиНа ĐľŃ Đ˛ ŃОКо, на ĐľŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃĐľ ĐąŃНО напиŃанО йоŃпОкОКŃŃвО. ÂŤĐĐžŃĐľĐźŃ Đ˛Đ°Ń Đ˝Đľ ĐąŃНО вŃĐľŃа воŃĐľŃОП, гОŃпОМа?Âť ÂŤĐŻ дОНМна ĐąŃНа пОдПониŃŃ ĐşĐžĐťĐťĐľĐłŃÂť, - ĐžŃвоŃиНа Ńа. ĐŃ ĐłĐťĐ°ĐˇĐ° ĐąŃНи пОкŃаŃновŃиПи и ŃНоСиНиŃŃ ĐžŃ ŃŃŃаНОŃŃи. Увидов ŃŃĐž, ĐикŃĐžŃĐ¸Ń ŃĐľŃиНа но наŃŃаиваŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃвОŃĐź. ĐаПиННа пОднŃНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ°Đ˛ĐľŃŃ Đ¸ пОгŃŃСиНаŃŃ Đ˛ ваннŃ. ĐŃ ĐźŃŃНи новОНŃнО воŃĐ˝ŃНиŃŃ Đş ĐżŃодŃĐ´ŃŃоК нОŃи, и Она пОŃŃвŃŃвОваНа, как ĐľŃ ŃŃки наŃаНи гОŃĐľŃŃ. Đна Đ˛ĐˇĐ´ĐžŃ Đ˝ŃНа и пОгŃŃСиНаŃŃ Đ˛ вОдŃ, как ĐąŃ ŃпаŃаŃŃŃ ĐžŃ ŃŃовОМнŃŃ Đ˛ĐžŃпОПинаниК. ĐŃ ŃŃвŃŃва пО ŃŃĐžĐźŃ ĐżĐžĐ˛ĐžĐ´Ń ĐąŃНи ŃПоŃаннŃПи, и Она но СнаНа, Ń ŃогО наŃаŃŃ. Đна даМо но ĐżŃодŃŃавНŃНа, ŃŃĐž ŃŃĐž ĐąŃĐť Са ŃоНОвок. ĐОНоо ŃОгО, Она ŃопоŃŃ ĐąŃНа СаПŃМоП. ĐŃ ŃŃОК ĐźŃŃНи Она пОŃŃвŃŃвОваНа винŃ. ĐĐľŃПОŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ОйŃŃĐžŃŃоНŃŃŃва, кОŃĐžŃŃĐľ ĐżŃивоНи Đ¸Ń Đş Đ˝ŃноŃĐ˝ĐľĐźŃ ĐżĐžĐťĐžĐśĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń, ŃĐ°ĐşŃ ĐžŃŃаваНŃŃ ŃакŃОП: Она и ĐиŃаНиК ŃвНŃŃŃŃŃ ĐźŃМоП и МонОК. ĐаПиННа вŃŃНа иС ваннŃ, ОдоНаŃŃ Đ¸ ŃнОва ĐżŃигОŃОвиНаŃŃ Đş вŃŃ ĐžĐ´Ń. Đак ŃОНŃкО Она ŃĐżŃŃŃиНаŃŃ Đ˛Đ˝Đ¸Đˇ, ĐикŃĐžŃĐ¸Ń ŃŃŃ ĐśĐľ СаŃŃĐľŃиНаŃŃ Đ˛ĐžĐşŃŃĐł ноŃ: ÂŤĐŃ ĐžĐżŃŃŃ ŃŃ ĐžĐ´Đ¸ŃĐľ Ńак ŃкОŃĐž? ĐĐžŃĐľĐźŃ ĐąŃ Đ˛Đ°Đź ŃнаŃаНа но пОСавŃŃакаŃŃ?Âť Та пОŃПОŃŃоНа на вŃоПŃ. ÂŤĐĐľŃ, Ń ĐžĐżĐžĐˇĐ´Đ°Ń Đ˝Đ° ŃайОŃŃÂť. ĐикŃĐžŃĐ¸Ń ĐˇĐ˝Đ°ĐťĐ°, ŃŃĐž ĐаПиННа вŃаŃ, пОŃŃĐžĐźŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ° пОниПаНа, ŃŃĐž Đ´ĐťŃ ŃŃОК ПОНОдОК довŃŃки ŃвНŃĐľŃŃŃ Đ˝ĐžŃПОК ĐżŃОвОдиŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃайОŃĐľ ноŃПоŃоннОо кОНиŃĐľŃŃвО вŃоПони. ТОгда Она ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ˝ŃНа оК ŃŃакан ПОНОка: ÂŤĐŃпоКŃĐľ Ń ĐžŃŃ ĐąŃ ŃŃĐž. ĐŃŃĐžŃОМнО, ОнО гОŃŃŃоо. ХпаŃийО, - ŃĐ¸Ń Đž ĐżŃОиСноŃНа довŃŃка, ŃОгŃĐľŃĐ°Ń ĐˇĐ°ĐąĐžŃОК ŃкОнОПки. ÂŤĐĐľ Са ŃŃО, - ĐťŃйоСнО ŃĐťŃйнŃНаŃŃ ŃкОнОПка. ĐОСПОМнО, ŃŃĐžŃ ĐąŃак и ĐąŃĐť вŃĐ˝ŃМдоннŃĐź, нО Она Đ´ĐžŃŃаŃĐžŃнО Ń ĐžŃĐžŃĐž СнаНа, ŃŃĐž ноНŃĐˇŃ ŃПОŃŃĐľŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ŃвŃŃОка. ĐаМо йоС ŃиŃŃНа ĐśĐľĐ˝Ń ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń ĐОвикОва ĐаПиННа - ĐżŃĐžŃĐľŃŃиОнаНŃĐ˝ŃĐš вŃаŃ, и ŃŃĐž Đ´ĐľĐťĐ°ĐľŃ ĐľŃ ĐąĐžĐťĐľĐľ ŃоП Đ´ĐžŃŃОКнОК ŃваМониŃ. ĐОпив ПОНОкО, ĐаПиННа воŃĐ˝ŃНа ŃŃакан ĐикŃĐžŃии и напŃавиНаŃŃ Đş вŃŃ ĐžĐ´Ń. ĐднакО Она но пОŃНа ŃŃĐ°ĐˇŃ Đ˛ кОПнаŃŃ ĐžŃĐ´ŃŃ Đ° поŃŃОнаНа. Đна вŃŃНа иС дОПа пОŃанŃŃĐľ, пОŃĐžĐźŃ ŃŃĐž оК Đ˝ŃМнО ĐąŃНО СаКŃи в ŃŃаŃиОнаŃ. ĐŃ ĐźĐ°ŃŃ ĐąŃНа пОПоŃона в ĐžŃдоНонио инŃонŃивнОК ŃĐľŃапии. ĐаПиННа ПОНŃа вОŃНа в паНаŃŃ Đ¸ ĐżŃОвоŃиНа ŃĐžŃŃĐžŃнио ПаŃĐľŃи. ĐонŃина пО-ĐżŃĐľĐśĐ˝ĐľĐźŃ Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐťĐ°ŃŃ Đ˛ ĐżĐťĐžŃ ĐžĐź ŃĐžŃŃĐžŃнии. ĐĄĐľŃĐ´ŃĐľ довŃŃки СанŃНО. ĐŃ ĐźĐ°ŃŃ ŃŃŃадаНа ĐžŃ ŃĐľŃĐ´ĐľŃнОК нодОŃŃаŃĐžŃнОŃŃи и Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐťĐ°ŃŃ Đ˛ ĐşŃиŃиŃĐľŃкОП ŃĐžŃŃĐžŃнии. ĐдинŃŃвоннŃĐź ŃпОŃОйОП ŃĐžŃ ŃаниŃŃ ĐśĐ¸ĐˇĐ˝Ń ĐźĐ°ŃĐľŃи ĐąŃНа поŃĐľŃадка ŃĐľŃĐ´Ńа, кОŃĐžŃаŃ, ĐľŃŃĐľŃŃвоннО, ОйОŃНаŃŃ ĐąŃ Đ˛ ŃоНОо ŃĐžŃŃĐžŃнио. ĐŃнОвнОК ĐżŃиŃинОК, пО кОŃĐžŃОК ĐаПиННа ŃОгНаŃиНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ĐąŃак, ĐąŃНО ŃĐž, ŃŃĐž ĐľŃ ĐžŃĐľŃ ŃĐłŃОМаН ŃĐ´ĐľŃМаŃŃ Đ´ĐľĐ˝Ńги, Đ˝ĐľĐžĐąŃ ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐźŃĐľ Đ´ĐťŃ ĐžĐżĐľŃаŃии. ТопоŃŃ, кОгда Она вŃŃНа СаПŃĐś, как ŃОгО ŃŃойОваН ĐľŃ ĐžŃĐľŃ, вŃŃ, ŃŃĐž иП ĐąŃНО Đ˝ŃМнО, ŃŃĐž наКŃи ĐżĐžĐ´Ń ĐžĐ´ŃŃогО дОнОŃа ŃĐľŃĐ´Ńа. ĐаПиННа ĐąŃĐžŃиНа гОŃŃкиК вСгНŃĐ´ на ПаŃŃ: ÂŤĐаПа, Ń ŃĐľĐąŃ Đ˛ŃНоŃŃ. ĐŻ ОйоŃаŃÂť. ĐŃ ĐźĐ°ŃŃ ĐąŃНа ŃаПŃĐź йНиСкиП ŃоНОвокОП, ĐľŃ ĐłĐťĐ°Đ˛Đ˝ĐžĐš пОддоŃМкОК и надŃМнŃĐź дОвоŃоннŃĐź НиŃОП. ĐоОМиданнО СаСвОниН ŃоНоŃОн. ĐовŃŃка Đ´ĐžŃŃаНа ŃоНоŃОн иС каŃПана и ĐžŃвоŃиНа на СвОнОк. ÂŤĐиНа, - ŃаСдаНŃŃ ĐźŃĐśŃкОК гОНОŃ. - Đно Đ˝ŃМнО, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ŃŃ ĐžĐşĐ°ĐˇĐ°ĐťĐ° Пно ĐžĐ´Đ˝Ń ŃŃĐťŃĐłŃÂť. ĐНава 3 ЧаŃŃĐ˝ŃĐš паŃĐ¸ĐľĐ˝Ń ĐаПиННо пОСвОниН ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ Đ¤Đ°ĐťŃкОв. Đни ŃŃиНиŃŃ Đ˛ ОднОП ПодиŃинŃкОП ŃнивоŃŃиŃĐľŃĐľ, Ń ĐžŃŃ ĐžĐ˝ ĐąŃĐť на два гОда ŃŃаŃŃĐľ ĐľŃ. ĐаŃоП Он ŃĐľŃ Đ°Đť Са ĐłŃаниŃŃ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżŃОдОНМиŃŃ ĐžĐąŃŃонио, и ŃопоŃŃ ĐąŃĐť иСвоŃŃĐ˝ŃĐź ŃĐşŃпоŃŃОП в ŃвОоК ОйНаŃŃи. ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ Đ˛Ńогда Ń ĐžŃĐžŃĐž СайОŃиНŃŃ Đž ĐаПиННо, пОŃŃĐžĐźŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ¸ ĐąŃНи дОвОНŃнО йНиСки. РкакОК ŃŃĐťŃго идŃŃ ŃĐľŃŃ?Âť - ĐżŃŃПО ŃĐżŃĐžŃиНа ĐаПиННа. ÂŤĐŁ ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐľŃŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃионŃ, Đ˝ŃМдаŃŃиКŃŃ Đ˛ НоŃонии, ОднакО Ń ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐżĐžŃвиНОŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐžŃНОМнОо доНО, и Ń Đ˝Đľ Đ´ŃПаŃ, ŃŃĐž ŃĐźĐžĐłŃ ĐˇĐ°Đ˝ŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃиП в йНиМаКŃоо вŃоПŃ. ĐОМаНŃĐšŃŃа, вОСŃПи паŃионŃа пОд ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐşŃŃНО, - пОпŃĐžŃиН ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ. ĐаПиНа вСгНŃĐ˝ŃНа на ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ŃаŃпиŃанио. ĐĄĐľĐłĐžĐ´Đ˝Ń Ń Đ˝ĐľŃ Đ˝Đľ ĐąŃНО доН в ĐžŃиŃĐľ, и, ĐľŃНи но ŃŃиŃаŃŃ Đ´Đ˛ŃŃ ĐžĐżĐľŃаŃиК, СапНаниŃОваннŃŃ Đ˝Đ° пОНдонŃ, Она ĐąŃНа ĐżŃакŃиŃĐľŃки ŃвОйОдна. ÂŤĐа, кОноŃнО. ĐŃда Пно пОдŃĐľŃ Đ°ŃŃ?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиНа ĐаПиННа. ÂŤĐŻ напиŃŃ Ńойо адŃĐľŃ. ĐОгда дОйоŃŃŃŃŃŃ ŃŃда, ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž ŃкаМи ĐžŃ ŃанникаП, ŃŃĐž ŃŃ ĐżŃĐ¸ĐľŃ Đ°ĐťĐ° Đş гОŃĐżĐžĐ´Đ¸Đ˝Ń ĐаНаŃникОвŃ, и Они ОйО вŃŃĐź пОСайОŃŃŃŃŃÂť, - ĐžŃвоŃиН ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ. ÂŤĐОгОвОŃиНиŃŃÂť, - ĐžŃвоŃиНа довŃŃка. ÂŤĐŃŃ ĐşĐžĐľ-ŃŃĐž, - дОйавиН ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ, и огО ŃОн ŃŃаН ŃĐľŃŃŃСнŃĐź. - ĐикОгда Đ˝Đ¸ĐşĐžĐźŃ ĐžĐą ŃŃОП но гОвОŃи и но СадаваК НиŃĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˛ĐžĐżŃĐžŃОв. ĐŃŃ, ŃŃĐž Ńойо Đ˝ŃМнО ŃдоНаŃŃ, ŃŃĐž вŃНоŃиŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃионŃа. ÂŤĐŻŃнО. ĐĐľ вОНнŃĐšŃŃÂť, - ĐžŃвоŃиНа ĐаПиННа. Đни пОпŃĐžŃаНиŃŃ, и ĐаПиННа вŃСваНа ŃакŃи, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ´ĐžĐąŃаŃŃŃŃ Đş паŃионŃŃ. ĐĐľŃŃĐž ОкаСаНОŃŃ Đ˛ ĐżŃĐľŃŃиМнОП ŃаКОно, СапОНноннОП виННаПи, ĐžŃнаŃŃннŃПи ŃиŃŃоПаПи йоСОпаŃнОŃŃи вŃŃŃогО ŃŃОвнŃ. Đак и ОМидаНОŃŃ, на Đ˛Ń ĐžĐ´Đľ довŃŃка ŃŃОНкнŃНаŃŃ Ń ŃŃŃОвОК ĐžŃ ŃанОК. ĐаПиННа пОŃНодОваНа инŃŃŃŃĐşŃиŃĐź и ŃпОПŃĐ˝ŃНа гОŃпОдина ĐаНаŃникОва. ХдоНав СвОнОк, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ŃйодиŃŃŃŃ Đ˛ ĐżŃавдивОŃŃи ĐľŃ ŃНОв, ĐžŃ Ńанник ĐżŃигНаŃиН ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ Đ˛Đ˝ŃŃŃŃ. ĐовŃŃка НогкО наŃНа виННŃ. Đна пОднŃНаŃŃ ĐżĐž ŃŃŃпонŃкаП и пОСвОниНа в двоŃŃ. ЧоŃоС ноŃкОНŃкО ŃокŃнд двоŃŃ ĐžŃĐşŃŃНаŃŃ. ĐаСаНОŃŃ, ŃŃĐž ŃиŃŃаŃĐ¸Ń Đ´ĐľĐšŃŃвиŃоНŃнО ĐąŃНа ŃŃĐžŃнОК. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐźŃŃиНŃŃ. Đни МдаНи ФŃĐ´ĐžŃа, нО вПоŃŃĐž ŃŃОгО на пОŃОго ОкаСаНаŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐˇĐ˛Đ°Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐłĐžŃŃŃŃ. ÂŤĐŃĐžŃŃиŃĐľ, вŃâŚÂť - наŃаНа довŃŃка. ĐС ŃкаСаниК ФŃĐ´ĐžŃа ĐаПиННа ŃМо ŃдоНаНа вŃвОд, ŃŃĐž ŃŃĐžŃ ĐżĐ°ŃĐ¸ĐľĐ˝Ń ŃĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃнОо ĐżŃĐžŃŃŃанŃŃвО, и ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ¸ĐˇĐąĐľĐśĐ°ŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐżŃиŃŃнОŃŃоК, Она ŃĐžŃНа ŃаСŃПнŃĐź надоŃŃ ĐźĐ°ŃĐşŃ. ĐоСОпаŃнОŃŃŃ ĐąŃНа в ĐżŃиОŃиŃĐľŃĐľ. ÂŤĐОкŃĐžŃ Đ¤Đ°ĐťŃкОв пОпŃĐžŃиН ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐżŃĐ¸ĐľŃ Đ°ŃŃ ŃŃда, - ŃкаСаНа ĐаПиННа. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐźĐľĐťŃкОП вСгНŃĐ˝ŃĐť на апŃĐľŃĐşŃ, кОŃĐžŃŃŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ° Đ´ĐľŃМаНа: ÂŤĐŃ ĐˇĐ˝Đ°ĐľŃĐľ, ŃŃĐž доНаŃŃ?Âť ÂŤĐа, дОкŃĐžŃ Đ¤Đ°ĐťŃкОв даН Пно инŃŃŃŃĐşŃии. ĐŻ ŃĐžŃ ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń Đ˛ŃŃ Đ˛ ŃŃŃОгОК кОнŃидонŃиаНŃнОŃŃи, - ĐžŃвоŃиНа довŃŃка. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐˇĐ˝Đ°Đť, ŃŃĐž ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ Đ˝Đľ поŃодаН ĐąŃ ŃвОи ОйŃСаннОŃŃи ŃОПŃ, ĐşŃĐž но СаŃĐťŃĐśĐ¸Đ˛Đ°ĐľŃ Đ´ĐžĐ˛ĐľŃĐ¸Ń Đ¸ĐťĐ¸ нокОПпоŃонŃон, пОŃŃĐžĐźŃ ŃŃвоŃдиŃоНŃнО кивнŃĐť и впŃŃŃиН ĐаПиННŃ. ĐĐ˝ ĐżŃОвŃĐť ĐľŃ ĐźĐ¸ĐźĐž ŃĐžŃкОŃнОК гОŃŃинОК, СаŃоП ввоŃŃ ĐżĐž НоŃŃниŃĐľ в ŃпаНŃĐ˝Ń. РкОПнаŃĐľ ĐąŃНО ŃоПнО. ÂŤĐак Ń ĐąŃĐ´Ń ĐżŃОвОдиŃŃ ĐťĐľŃонио йоС ŃвоŃа?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиНа ĐаПиННа. ĐОгда ĐиŃаНиК ŃŃĐťŃŃаН МонŃкиК гОНОŃ, ŃĐž пОŃпоŃнО ŃŃ Đ˛Đ°ŃиН ŃвОК пидМак и наŃŃĐ˝ŃĐť огО на НиŃĐž. ÂŤĐкНŃŃи ŃвоŃÂť, - ĐżŃикаСаН Он ŃĐşĐ˛ĐžĐˇŃ ŃканŃ. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ŃŃНкнŃĐť вŃкНŃŃаŃоНоП, и кОПнаŃŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐťĐ¸Đť ŃŃкиК ŃвоŃ. ĐĐľŃвОК ĐźŃŃĐťŃŃ ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ĐąŃНО ŃĐž, ŃŃĐž ĐłĐžĐťĐžŃ ĐżĐ°ŃионŃа ĐąŃĐť дОвОНŃнО СнакОПŃĐź, ОднакО Она ĐžŃĐźĐ°Ń Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ ĐžŃ ŃŃĐ¸Ń ĐźŃŃНоК. Đна ŃвидоНа ŃоНОвока, НоМаŃогО на ĐşŃОваŃи, ŃŃŃ ĐąĐľĐťĐ°Ń ĐżĐ°ŃĐ°Đ´Đ˝Đ°Ń ŃŃйаŃка ĐąŃНа в ĐżŃŃĐ˝Đ°Ń Đ´Đ°Đ˛Đ˝Đž СаŃĐžŃ ŃоК ĐşŃОви. ĐаПиННа но Ń ĐžŃоНа вдаваŃŃŃŃ Đ˛ пОдŃОйнОŃŃи и ŃĐľŃиНа ŃĐžŃŃодОŃĐžŃиŃŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐ°Đ˝Đ°Ń . ĐŃĐśŃина ŃвнО но Ń ĐžŃоН вŃдаваŃŃ ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐťĐ¸ŃнОŃŃŃ, пОŃŃĐžĐźŃ Đ´ĐľĐ˛ŃŃка ĐľŃŃĐľŃŃвоннŃĐź ОйŃаСОП ŃваМаНа огО ĐłŃаниŃŃ Đ¸ воНа ŃĐľĐąŃ ĐżŃиНиŃнО. Đна пОŃŃавиНа ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐľŃĐşŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃŃПйОŃĐşŃ Đ¸ Đ´ĐžŃŃаНа Ń Đ¸ŃŃŃгиŃĐľŃкио инŃŃŃŃПонŃŃ. ĐаПиННа нОМниŃаПи ŃаСŃоСаНа ŃŃйаŃĐşŃ ĐżĐ°ŃионŃа, ОйнаМив огО ŃанŃ, кОŃĐžŃŃĐľ ĐąŃНи пОкŃŃŃŃ ŃОнкиП ŃНОоП ПаŃНи. Đна ŃĐąŃаНа вŃŃ Đ¸, накОноŃ, ŃвидоНа дво СиŃŃŃио ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń Đ˝Đ° ĐżŃавОК ŃŃĐžŃОно ŃĐžŃŃа ĐźŃĐśŃинŃ. ĐаПиННа наŃаНа НоŃонио, ОйŃайОŃав ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń ŃвОиПи НОвкиПи ŃŃкаПи. ĐŃŃ ŃŃĐž вŃĐľĐźŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ° ĐžŃŃаваНаŃŃ ŃпОкОКнОК, а ĐľŃ Đ´Đ˛Đ¸ĐśĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐąŃНи ĐąŃŃŃŃŃПи и ŃŃŃокŃивнŃПи. ÂŤĐŃŃŃ ĐťĐ¸ Ń Đ˛Đ°Ń Đ°ĐťĐťĐľŃĐłĐ¸Ń Đ˝Đ° аноŃŃоСиŃ?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиНа Она ŃĐľŃоС нокОŃĐžŃОо вŃоПŃ. Đ ŃŃаŃŃŃŃ, ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń ĐąŃНи ногНŃйОкио и пОвŃодиНи НиŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐąĐžĐťŃŃŃŃ ŃаŃŃŃ ĐşĐžĐśĐ¸, ОднакО ŃŃойОваНОŃŃ Ń Đ¸ŃŃŃгиŃĐľŃкОо вПоŃаŃоНŃŃŃвО. ĐŃĐžŃĐľŃŃ ŃŃойОваН ĐżŃĐ¸ĐźĐľĐ˝ĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐźĐľŃŃнОК аноŃŃоСии. ĐаПиННа гОвОŃиНа ŃпОкОКнО, пОŃŃи ŃĐ¸Ń Đž, ŃŃĐž ŃоСкО кОнŃŃаŃŃиŃОваНО Ń ĐľŃ ĐąĐľĐˇŃПнŃĐź гОНОŃОП ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃŃŃ. ĐĐžŃŃОПŃ, ноŃПОŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ОйПон ноŃкОНŃкиПи ŃНОваПи, ĐиŃаНиК ŃОвŃоП но ŃСнаН ĐľŃ. ÂŤĐĐľŃÂť, - ŃкаСаН Он ŃвОиП ОйŃŃĐ˝ŃĐź Ń ĐžĐťĐžĐ´Đ˝ŃĐź гОНОŃОП, ĐżŃĐž ŃĐľĐąŃ Đ˛ĐžŃŃ Đ˛Đ°ĐťŃŃ ĐľŃ ĐżŃĐžŃĐľŃŃиОнаНиСП. ĐаПиННа ĐżŃиŃŃŃпиНа Đş ĐżŃигОŃĐžĐ˛ĐťĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ°Đ˝ĐľŃŃоСии, а СаŃоП ввоНа ĐľŃ Đ˛ ОйНаŃŃŃ Đ˛ĐžĐşŃŃĐł Ńан. ĐĐź ĐżŃиŃНОŃŃ ĐżĐžĐ´ĐžĐśĐ´Đ°ŃŃ ĐżĐ°ŃŃ ĐźĐ¸Đ˝ŃŃ, пОка наŃаНОŃŃ Đ´ĐľĐšŃŃвио ĐżŃопаŃаŃа, пОŃНо ŃогО Она наНОМиНа ŃвŃ. ĐŃиПоŃнО ŃĐľŃоС ŃĐ°Ń ĐаПиННа Đ˝Đ°ĐşĐžĐ˝ĐľŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐşĐžĐ˝ŃиНа. Đ ŃоНОП, НоŃонио ĐżŃĐžŃНО ĐąŃŃŃŃĐž и ŃŃпоŃнО. ĐаПиННа пОŃПОŃŃоНа на ŃвОи Ок**вавНоннŃĐľ ŃŃки и ŃкаСаНа: ÂŤĐно Đ˝ŃМнО в ŃйОŃĐ˝ŃŃÂť. ÂŤĐŃ ĐźĐžĐśĐľŃĐľ иŃпОНŃСОваŃŃ ŃŃ, ŃŃĐž вниСŃÂť, - ĐžŃвоŃиН ĐониŃ. ĐаПиННа пОŃпоŃнО пОкинŃНа ŃпаНŃĐ˝Ń. УйодивŃиŃŃ, ŃŃĐž довŃŃка воŃĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° поŃвŃĐš ŃŃаМ, ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐˇĐ°ĐşŃŃĐť двоŃŃ Đ¸ пОŃпоŃиН Đş ĐиŃаНиŃ. ÂŤĐŻ ŃСнаН, ŃŃĐž йандиŃŃ, напавŃио на Đ˛Đ°Ń Đ˛ŃĐľŃа, пОдОŃĐťĐ°Đ˝Ń ĐŃŃŃПОП. ĐĐ˝, воŃĐžŃŃнО, ĐžŃŃаŃннО Ń ĐžŃĐľŃ Đ¸ĐˇĐąĐ°Đ˛Đ¸ŃŃŃŃ ĐžŃ Đ˛Đ°Ń, ĐžŃОйоннО пОŃНо ŃОгО, как Đ˛Ń Đ˛ŃŃиŃНиНи огО ŃпиОнОв в ваŃоК кОПпании, - ŃкаСаН ĐониŃ. ĐиŃаНиК СаŃŃОнаН ĐžŃ ĐąĐžĐťĐ¸, ŃŃаМиваŃŃŃ, а СаŃоП пОдŃŃĐ˝ŃĐťŃŃ Đş ĐşŃĐ°Ń ĐşŃОваŃи и ОпŃŃŃиН нОги на пОН. ĐĐ˝ вŃгНŃдоН ŃНайŃĐź, нО огО гНаСа вŃĐżŃŃ Đ˝ŃНи ОпаŃĐ˝ŃĐź йНоŃкОП. ĐŃĐśŃина поŃовŃĐť ĐżŃОнСиŃоНŃĐ˝ŃĐš вСгНŃĐ´ на ŃвОогО пОПОŃника. ÂŤĐŃа МонŃина, на кОŃĐžŃОК Ń ĐąŃĐť вŃĐ˝ŃМдон МониŃŃŃŃ, Đ¸ĐźĐľĐľŃ ĐşĐ°ĐşĐžĐľ-НийО ĐžŃнОŃонио Đş ĐŃŃŃĐźŃ?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиН Он. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐżĐžĐ˝Đ¸ĐˇĐ¸Đť гОНОŃ: ÂŤĐа ŃаПОП доНо, ĐŃŃŃĐź ŃвŃСаНŃŃ Ń Đ˛Đ°ŃиП ŃĐľŃŃоП, ĐиŃОнОП. ĐĐ˝ ŃŃŃоПиНŃŃ Đ˛ŃдаŃŃ ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ´ĐžŃŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐźŃĐś Са ŃНона ŃоПŃи ĐОвикОвŃŃ , нО, ĐżĐžŃ ĐžĐśĐľ, никОгда но ŃаŃŃПаŃŃиваН ваŃогО ĐşŃСона ĐĐťŃŃ, как ĐżĐžĐ´Ń ĐžĐ´ŃŃогО кандидаŃа. ĐОНМнО ĐąŃŃŃ, ĐŃŃŃĐź дОгОвОŃиНŃŃ Ń Đ˝Đ¸ĐźÂť. ÂŤĐĐ˝ но поŃĐľŃŃаŃŃ ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ŃдивНŃŃŃ ĐşĐ°ĐśĐ´ŃĐš донŃ. ĐĄ ПОоК ŃŃĐžŃĐžĐ˝Ń ĐąŃĐ´ĐľŃ Đ˝Đľ воМНивО ĐżŃОПОНŃаŃŃ Đ˛ ĐžŃвоŃÂť, - ŃкаСаН ĐиŃаНиК. Đа вŃĐľĐźŃ ĐžŃŃŃŃŃŃĐ˛Đ¸Ń ĐиŃаНиŃ, в гОŃОдо ĐżŃОиСОŃНО ПнОгО ŃОйŃŃиК, в кОŃĐžŃŃŃ ĐąŃĐť СаПоŃан ĐĐťŃŃ. ÂŤĐŻ ŃĐťŃŃаН, ŃŃĐž Ń ĐĐťŃи ĐľŃŃŃ ĐˇĐ°Ń ŃдаНŃĐš ĐąĐ°Ń "ШаŃĐź" на ŃНиŃĐľ ĐŃйаŃŃкаŃÂť, - ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐ˝ŃĐť ĐиŃаНиК. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń Đ˛ŃŃ ĐżĐžĐ˝ŃĐť Ń ĐżĐžĐťŃŃНОва. ÂŤĐа, пОŃкОНŃĐşŃ ŃпиОнОв вŃгнаНи иС кОПпании, ŃŃĐžŃ ĐşĐťŃĐą ŃŃаН Đ¸Ń ĐľĐ´Đ¸Đ˝ŃŃвоннŃĐź иŃŃĐžŃникОП Đ´ĐžŃ ĐžĐ´Đ°, и ĐľŃНи огО СакŃĐžŃŃ, ŃĐž иП ĐżŃидŃŃŃŃ Đ´ĐžĐ˛ĐžĐťŃнО ŃŃгО, - ŃкаСаН ĐониŃ. ÂŤĐОПОги иП в ŃŃОП, - ŃкаСаН ĐиŃаНиК, и огО ĐłĐžĐťĐžŃ ŃŃаН на ОкŃĐ°Đ˛Ń Đ˝Đ¸ĐśĐľ. ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ŃŃОНкнŃĐťŃŃ Ń ĐаПиННОК, кОгда ŃĐżŃŃкаНŃŃ Đ˛Đ˝Đ¸Đˇ. ĐĐ˝ ĐżŃодпОНОМиН, ŃŃĐž ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ ĐżŃОинŃŃŃŃĐşŃиŃОваН довŃŃĐşŃ ĐˇĐ°Ńаноо, ОднакО ŃĐľŃиН ноПнОгО ĐľŃ Đ˝Đ°ĐżŃгаŃŃ Đ´ĐťŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃŃогО ŃŃŃокŃа: ÂŤĐŃНи Đ˛Ń ŃаŃŃкаМоŃĐľ Ой ŃŃОП кОПŃ-нийŃĐ´Ń, Đ˛Đ°Ń Đ˝Đ°ŃŃĐ¸ĐłĐ˝ĐľŃ ŃМаŃĐ˝Đ°Ń ŃПоŃŃŃÂť, - ŃкаСаН Он. ĐŃНи ŃĐťŃŃ Đž ŃŃĐ°Đ˛ĐźĐ°Ń ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń Đ´ĐžĐšĐ´ŃŃ Đ´Đž ĐŃŃŃПа иНи огО ŃŃна ĐĐťŃи, Они ОйŃСаŃоНŃнО пОвоŃĐ˝ŃŃ ŃŃĐž в ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐżĐžĐťŃСŃ. ĐаПиННа кивнŃНа: ÂŤĐŻ ŃĐžŃ ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń ŃŃĐž в ŃаКно. ĐŻ ŃОНŃкО вОСŃĐźŃ ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐľŃĐşŃ Đ¸ ноПодНоннО ŃКдŃÂť. ĐОгда довŃŃка воŃĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˛ ŃпаНŃĐ˝Ń, ŃĐž ОйнаŃŃМиНа ĐźŃĐśŃинŃ, ŃŃĐžŃŃогО Ń ĐžĐşĐ˝Đ° напŃĐžŃив двоŃи. ĐĐ˝ ŃŃĐžŃĐť Đş ноК ŃпинОК, ОднакО довŃŃка ПОгНа ŃаŃŃПОŃŃĐľŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž ŃиŃОкио пНоŃи и ĐźŃŃĐşŃНиŃŃŃŃ ŃпинŃ. ĐгО ŃоНО ĐąŃНО ŃŃŃОКнŃĐź, ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž идоаНŃĐ˝ŃĐź. ÂŤĐŃ ŃаСво но ŃŃНи?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиН ĐźŃĐśŃина наŃПоŃНивŃĐź гОНОŃОП. ĐĐ˝ но ОйоŃĐ˝ŃĐťŃŃ, нО какиП-ŃĐž ОйŃаСОП пОнŃĐť, ŃŃĐž Она ŃПОŃŃĐ¸Ń Đ˝Đ° ногО. ĐОСПОМнО, Он пОŃŃвŃŃвОваН ĐľŃ ĐłĐžŃŃŃиК вСгНŃĐ´. ĐаПиННа ŃĐźŃŃŃннО ОпŃŃŃиНа гОНОвŃ. Đак ĐąŃ ĐľĐš но Ń ĐžŃоНОŃŃ ŃŃĐž ĐżŃиСнаваŃŃ, нО ŃŃĐžŃ ĐźŃĐśŃина СаинŃĐľŃĐľŃОваН ĐľŃ. ĐНава 4 ĐĄŃаМиŃОвка ĐаПиННа, ОпŃŃŃив гОНОвŃ, ŃĐžŃОпНивО вСŃНа ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ°ĐżŃĐľŃĐşŃ. ĐŃĐžŃиŃŃив гОŃНО, Она даНа ĐźŃĐśŃино ноŃкОНŃкО ŃкаСаниК. Đак ĐąŃ ŃаП ни ĐąŃНО, Она вŃŃ ĐśĐľ ĐąŃНа вŃаŃОП. ÂŤĐаП ноНŃĐˇŃ ĐżĐžĐşĐ° ПОŃиŃŃ ŃвОи ŃанŃ. ĐоСинŃиŃиŃŃĐšŃĐľ Đ¸Ń ŃаС в Đ´ĐľĐ˝Ń Đ¸ нОŃиŃĐľ ŃвОйОднŃĐľ ŃŃйаŃки, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ˝Đľ ŃаСдŃаМаŃŃ ŃанŃÂť. Đна пОŃŃавиНа ĐąŃŃŃНОŃĐşŃ Ń ŃайНоŃкаПи и ŃŃйик Ń ĐźĐ°ĐˇŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃŃПйОŃĐşŃ. ÂŤĐŻ ĐžŃŃавНŃŃ Đ˛Đ°Đź ŃŃи НокаŃŃŃва. ĐиŃаНиК ŃŃĐž-ŃĐž ĐżŃОйОŃПОŃаН в Снак ĐżŃиСнаŃоНŃнОŃŃи, нО но ОйоŃĐ˝ŃĐťŃŃ. ĐаПиННа ŃОМо йОНŃŃĐľ ниŃогО но ŃкаСаНа и ŃŃĐ°ĐˇŃ ĐśĐľ пОкинŃНа виННŃ. ĐОгда Она воŃĐ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˛ йОНŃниŃŃ, ĐąŃНО ŃМо пОŃŃи ОдиннадŃаŃŃ Đ´Đ˝Ń. Đна напŃавиНаŃŃ Đ˛ ŃŃОНОвŃŃ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżĐľŃокŃŃиŃŃ. Đдва ŃŃŃŃОивŃиŃŃ ĐˇĐ° ŃвОиП ŃŃОНОП, ĐľŃ Đ˛ŃСваНи в ĐşĐ°ĐąĐ¸Đ˝ĐľŃ ĐłĐťĐ°Đ˛Đ˛ŃаŃа. ÂŤĐŻ ĐžŃĐżŃавНŃŃ ĐŻĐ˝Ń Đ˛ ЌонŃŃаНŃĐ˝ŃĐš вОоннŃĐš гОŃпиŃĐ°ĐťŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃŃаМиŃОвкŃÂť, - ŃкаСаН гНаввŃĐ°Ń ŃОнОП, но ŃĐľŃĐżŃŃиП вОСŃаМониК. ĐаПиННа ĐąŃНа пОŃŃŃŃона и ŃкаСаНа: ÂŤĐĐž Ń Đ´ŃПаНа, ŃŃĐž Đ˛Ń ŃМо ŃĐľŃиНи ĐžŃĐżŃавиŃŃ ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń?Âť ÂŤĐаПиННа, Ń ŃвоŃон, ŃŃĐž ŃŃ ĐˇĐ˝Đ°ĐľŃŃ Đž ŃОП, ŃŃĐž вŃŃ Đ˛ŃŃОкОŃĐľŃ Đ˝ĐžĐťĐžĐłĐ¸ŃнОо ОйОŃŃдОванио наŃоК йОНŃниŃŃ ŃпОнŃиŃОваНОŃŃ ĐşĐžŃпОŃаŃиоК "ĐаŃаПаŃĐ˝Ń". ĐŃĐľĐˇĐ¸Đ´ĐľĐ˝Ń ĐОвикОв НиŃнО пОпŃĐžŃиН ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐżĐžĐˇĐ°ĐąĐžŃиŃŃŃŃ Đž Яно. ĐŻ но ĐźĐžĐłŃ ĐżĐžĐˇĐ˛ĐžĐťĐ¸ŃŃ Ńойо пОКŃи ĐżŃĐžŃив огО вОНи. ĐаПиННа ĐžŃĐľŃиниНаŃŃ ĐżŃи ŃпОПинании иПони ĐиŃаНиŃ. ĐĽĐžŃŃ ĐžĐ˝Đ¸ и ĐąŃНи ĐžŃиŃиаНŃнО МонаŃŃ, нО Они никОгда но вŃŃŃĐľŃаНиŃŃ. Đна видоНа ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń ŃОНŃкО в ĐśŃŃĐ˝Đ°ĐťĐ°Ń Đ¸ инОгда в нОвОŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐž ŃоНовиСОŃŃ. ĐнаŃиŃ, Он и Яна? ĐĄĐľŃĐ´ŃĐľ ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ŃкнŃНО, нО Она ĐžŃŃаваНаŃŃ ŃпОкОКнОК. ÂŤĐĐžŃ ĐşĐ°Đş?Âť ÂŤĐа, йОŃŃŃ, Ń ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ŃвŃĐˇĐ°Đ˝Ń ŃŃки. ĐĐžŃĐťŃŃаК, ĐаПиННа, ĐźŃ ĐžĐąĐ° СнаоП Đž ŃĐ˛ĐžĐ¸Ń ŃпОŃОйнОŃŃŃŃ , нО...Âť - гНаввŃĐ°Ń Ń ĐžŃоН ŃŃпОкОиŃŃ Đ´ĐľĐ˛ŃŃĐşŃ, нО но СнаН, как. ĐаПиННа вŃдоНŃНаŃŃ ŃŃоди ŃĐ˛ĐžĐ¸Ń ŃвоŃŃŃникОв йНагОдаŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐ˛ĐľŃĐžŃŃĐ˝ĐžĐźŃ ŃаНанŃŃ Đ¸ ĐżŃĐžŃĐľŃŃиОнаНŃнОК ŃŃико. ĐНаввŃĐ°Ń ŃониН ĐľŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃŃĐľ вŃĐľŃ ĐžŃŃаНŃĐ˝ŃŃ . ÂŤĐŻ пОниПаŃÂť, - ĐżŃОйОŃПОŃаНа ĐаПиННа Ńойо пОд нОŃ. ĐовŃŃка гОвОŃиНа Ńойо, ŃŃĐž Она ĐąŃНа но в ŃОП пОНОМонии, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ŃаŃŃŃŃаиваŃŃŃŃ Đ¸Đˇ-Са вПоŃаŃоНŃŃŃва ĐиŃаНиŃ. ĐĐ˝ ĐąŃĐť вŃĐ˝ŃМдон МониŃŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ноК, и, ĐľŃŃĐľŃŃвоннО, Она но ПОгНа ŃаŃŃŃиŃŃваŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐž, ŃŃĐž Он ĐąŃĐ´ĐľŃ ĐˇĐ°ĐąĐžŃиŃŃŃŃ Đž ноК. ÂŤĐно ĐľŃŃ Đ˝ŃМнО пОдгОŃОвиŃŃŃŃ Đş ОпоŃаŃии, Ńак ŃŃĐž Ń ĐżĐžĐšĐ´ŃÂť, - ŃПиŃоннŃĐź гОНОŃОП ŃкаСаНа довŃŃка. ĐаПиННа пОниПаНа, ŃŃĐž ниŃогО но ĐźĐžĐśĐľŃ ŃдоНаŃŃ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ¸ĐˇĐźĐľĐ˝Đ¸ŃŃ ŃиŃŃаŃиŃ. ĐНаввŃĐ°Ń ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž Đ˛ĐˇĐ´ĐžŃ Đ˝ŃĐť и ŃПОŃŃоН, как Она ŃŃ ĐžĐ´Đ¸Ń. ĐаПиННа Ń ŃĐ˝ŃŃСиаСПОП пОгŃŃСиНаŃŃ Đ˛ ŃайОŃŃ, ĐżŃŃаŃŃŃ Đ˝Đľ Đ´ŃПаŃŃ Đž ŃŃаМиŃОвко. Đна йоС СаПинки ĐżŃОвоНа ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Đ˛ŃĐžŃŃŃ ĐžĐżĐľŃаŃиŃ, СаŃоП ŃĐ˝ŃНа ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ Ń Đ¸ŃŃŃгиŃĐľŃĐşŃŃ ŃĐžŃĐźŃ Đ¸, пОŃПОŃŃов ввоŃŃ , ŃŃŃаНО пНŃŃ Đ˝ŃНаŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃŃŃĐť. ĐПоннО в ŃŃĐžŃ ĐźĐžĐźĐľĐ˝Ń Đ˛ гОŃŃинŃŃ Đ˛ĐžŃНа Яна и ŃкаСаНа: ÂŤĐĐ´ŃавŃŃвŃĐš, ĐаПиННа, - пОпŃивоŃŃŃвОваНа Она, ŃŃкО ŃĐťŃйаŃŃŃ. - Đ˘Ń ŃвОйОдна воŃĐľŃОП? ĐĐžĐˇĐ˛ĐžĐťŃ ŃгОŃŃиŃŃ ŃĐľĐąŃ ŃМинОП. ÂŤĐСвини, нО Ń ĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐľŃŃŃ Đ´ĐľĐťĐ°, Ń ĐşĐžŃĐžŃŃПи Đ˝ŃМнО ŃаСОйŃаŃŃŃŃ ĐżĐžĐˇĐśĐľÂť, - воМНивО ĐžŃкаСаНаŃŃ ĐаПиННа. ĐовŃŃка но ĐąŃНа в Ń ĐžŃĐžŃĐ¸Ń ĐžŃнОŃониŃŃ Ń ĐŻĐ˝ĐžĐš. Đни ĐąŃНи ĐżŃĐžŃŃĐž кОННогаПи, а но пОдŃŃгаПи. Đйо ОкОнŃиНи Один и ŃĐžŃ ĐśĐľ ŃнивоŃŃиŃĐľŃ Đ˛ ОднО и ŃĐž Мо вŃоПŃ. ĐŃŃ ŃОгда Яна ĐąŃНа ŃОК ĐľŃŃ ŃŃŃŃкОК. Đна ĐąŃНа ĐžŃĐľĐ˝Ń Đ°ĐźĐąĐ¸ŃиОСнОК и вŃогда Ń ĐžŃоНа пОкŃаŃОваŃŃŃŃ Đ¸ ĐżŃивНокаŃŃ Đ˛ŃоОйŃоо вниПанио. ĐаПиННа, в ŃĐ˛ĐžŃ ĐžŃĐľŃодŃ, ĐżŃодпОŃиŃаНа ĐžŃŃаваŃŃŃŃ Đ˝ĐľĐˇĐ°ĐźĐľŃнОК и ĐąŃНа пОгŃŃМона в ŃвОи книги. ĐОМнО ŃкаСаŃŃ, ŃŃĐž довŃŃки ĐąŃНи айŃОНŃŃнО ŃаСнŃПи. ĐОнŃŃнОо доНО, ŃŃĐž Они но ĐžŃĐľĐ˝Ń Ń ĐžŃĐžŃĐž НадиНи. ÂŤĐ, ĐžŃĐľĐ˝Ń ĐśĐ°ĐťŃ, - ŃкаСаНа Яна, вŃгНŃĐ´Ń ĐżĐžŃоПŃ-ŃĐž ŃĐźŃŃŃннОК. - ĐООйŃĐľ-ŃĐž Ń Ń ĐžŃоНа Ń ŃОйОК кОо Đž ŃŃĐź пОгОвОŃиŃŃÂť. ĐаПиННа вŃŃаНа и пОдОŃНа Đş ŃĐ˛ĐžĐľĐźŃ ŃкаŃŃикŃ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ĐżĐžĐ˛ĐľŃиŃŃ Ń Đ°ĐťĐ°Ń. ÂŤĐОвОŃи, - ŃкаСаНа Она, но гНŃĐ´Ń Đ˝Đ° ĐŻĐ˝Ń. Đ˘ĐžŃ ŃакŃ, ŃŃĐž ĐľŃ ĐşĐžĐťĐťĐľĐłĐ° Ńак иНи инаŃĐľ ŃвŃСаНаŃŃ Ń ĐиŃаНиоП, ĐľŃŃ ĐąĐžĐťŃŃĐľ ĐžŃдаНиН ĐĐ°ĐźĐ¸ĐťĐťŃ ĐžŃ ĐŻĐ˝Ń. ТŃ, дОНМнО ĐąŃŃŃ, ŃĐťŃŃаНа, да? Đно ĐžŃĐľĐ˝Ń ĐśĐ°ĐťŃ. ĐŻ пОнŃŃĐ¸Ń Đ˝Đľ иПоНа, ŃŃĐž диŃокŃĐžŃâŚÂť ÂŤĐŃŃ Đ˛ пОŃŃдко, - поŃойиНа ĐаПиННа. ĐднакО Яна ĐľŃŃ Đ˝Đľ вŃŃ ŃкаСаНа и ĐżŃОдОНМиНа: ÂŤĐ ĐľŃŃ, ПОМоŃŃ ŃĐžŃ ŃаниŃŃ Đ˛ ŃокŃĐľŃĐľ ŃĐž, ŃŃĐž вŃĐľŃа воŃĐľŃОП ŃŃ Đ˛ŃŃНа на ŃĐźĐľĐ˝Ń Đ˛ĐźĐľŃŃĐž ПонŃ? ĐнаоŃŃ, пОŃкОНŃĐşŃ Ń ŃОйиŃаŃŃŃ Đ˛ ЌонŃŃаНŃĐ˝ŃĐš вОоннŃĐš гОŃпиŃаНŃ, Ń Đ˝Đľ Ń ĐžŃŃ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ŃŃĐž ĐżŃиŃиниНО какио-НийО ĐżŃОйНоПŃÂť. ĐĐľŃПОŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐž, ŃŃĐž ĐżŃĐžŃŃйа ĐŻĐ˝Ń ĐąŃНа ноОйŃŃнОК, ĐаПиННа но Đ´ŃПаНа Ой ŃŃОП и ĐžŃвоŃиНа: ÂŤĐŻ Đ˝Đ¸ĐşĐžĐźŃ Đ˝Đľ ŃкаМŃÂť. Đ ĐťŃйОП ŃĐťŃŃао, но ĐąŃНО ниŃогО ŃŃŃаннОгО в ŃОП, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ Đ˛ĐˇŃŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐľĐąŃ ŃĐźĐľĐ˝Ń ĐşĐžĐťĐťĐľĐłĐ¸. ĐŃĐľĐźŃ ĐžŃ Đ˛ŃоПони иП ĐżŃĐ¸Ń ĐžĐ´Đ¸ĐťĐžŃŃ ŃŃаНкиваŃŃŃŃ Ń ĐťĐ¸ŃĐ˝ŃПи ŃŃоСвŃŃаКнŃПи ОйŃŃĐžŃŃоНŃŃŃваПи. Đа ŃĐľŃŃиŃĐžŃии йОНŃниŃŃ. ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ ŃидоН на СадноП ŃидонŃĐľ Đ´ĐžŃОгОК ŃŃŃнОК ПаŃинŃ, кОŃĐžŃĐ°Ń ĐąŃНа ĐżŃипаŃкОвана Ń Đ˛ĐžŃĐžŃ. ÂŤĐŃ, - ŃкаСаН Он гОНОŃОП, поŃопОНноннŃĐź гОŃĐ´ĐžŃŃŃŃ, - ŃŃĐž Đ´ŃПаоŃŃ Đž ПОоК ŃŃониŃĐľ? ĐŁ Đ˝ĐľŃ ĐžŃНиŃĐ˝ŃĐľ ŃпОŃОйнОŃŃи, но Ńак Ни?Âť Đ ŃдОП Ń ĐźŃĐśŃинОК ŃидоН ĐиŃаНиК, ĐžŃкинŃвŃиŃŃ Đ˝Đ° ŃĐżĐ¸Đ˝ĐşŃ ŃидонŃŃ. ĐĐ˝ ŃнОва пОдŃПаН Đž вŃаŃĐľ, кОŃĐžŃŃĐš НоŃиН огО, и вŃпОПниН, какиПи ŃпОкОКнŃПи и ŃĐžŃĐ˝ŃПи ĐąŃНи ĐľŃ Đ´ĐľĐšŃŃвиŃ. Đа ŃаПОП доНо, ĐźŃĐśŃина ĐąŃĐť пОŃаМон ĐľŃ ŃпОŃОйнОŃŃŃПи. ÂŤĐŃĐž гОŃпОМа ĐОНкОва, - вдŃŃĐł СагОвОŃиН ĐониŃ. ĐиŃаНиК ОпŃŃŃиН ŃŃокНО как ŃаС в ŃĐžŃ ĐźĐžĐźĐľĐ˝Ń, кОгда Яна пОдОŃНа Đş ПаŃино. ĐŃОви ФŃĐ´ĐžŃа пОднŃНиŃŃ, и Он ŃкаСаН: Яна?Âť ĐĐľĐ˝Đ¸Ń ĐžĐąĐľŃĐ˝ŃĐťŃŃ Ń Đ˛ĐžĐ´Đ¸ŃоНŃŃкОгО ПоŃŃа и ŃĐżŃĐžŃиН: ÂŤĐŃ ĐˇĐ˝Đ°ĐľŃĐľ ĐľŃ?Âť ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ ĐşĐ¸Đ˛Đ˝ŃĐť, огО вСгНŃĐ´ СайНоŃŃоН ĐžŃ ĐťŃйОпŃŃŃŃва. ÂŤĐна ĐąŃНа ŃŃŃдонŃкОК на гОд ПНадŃĐľ в ПОŃĐź ŃнивоŃŃиŃĐľŃо. ĐиŃĐ°ĐťĐ¸Ń ŃŃаНО ĐťŃйОпŃŃнО, кОгда Он ŃŃĐťŃŃаН ŃŃĐž. ĐнаŃиŃ, ŃŃа довŃŃка но ŃОНŃкО ŃпаŃНа огО ĐżŃĐžŃНОК нОŃŃŃ, нО и СаНоŃиНа огО ŃанŃ? ÂŤĐŃĐž ŃŃĐ´Ńйа?Âť - вОŃкНикнŃĐť ĐониŃ. ĐŃĐľĐťĐľĐ˝Đ˝Đ°Ń Đ˝Đ°ĐşĐžĐ˝ĐľŃ ŃĐľŃиНа даŃŃ ĐľĐłĐž йОŃŃŃ ŃĐ°Đ˝Ń Đ˝Đ° ĐťŃйОвŃ? ÂŤĐакОгО ŃŃŃŃа ŃŃ Đ˝ĐľŃŃŃŃ?Âť - ŃĐżŃĐžŃиН ФŃĐ´ĐžŃ, Đ˝Đ°Ń ĐźŃŃивŃиŃŃ, поŃĐľĐ˛ĐžĐ´Ń Đ˛ĐˇĐłĐťŃĐ´ Ń ĐžĐ´Đ˝ĐžĐłĐž ĐźŃĐśŃĐ¸Đ˝Ń Đ˝Đ° Đ´ŃŃгОгО. ...... ЧŃĐž ĐąŃĐ´ĐľŃ Đ´Đ°ĐťŃŃĐľ? ĐОНиŃĐľŃŃвО гНав СдоŃŃ ĐžĐłŃаниŃонО, наМПиŃĐľ на ĐşĐ˝ĐžĐżĐşŃ Đ˝Đ¸ĐśĐľ, ŃŃĐžĐąŃ ŃŃŃанОвиŃŃ ĐżŃиНОМонио и ĐżŃОдОНМиŃŃ ŃŃонио йОНоо ĐˇĐ°Ń Đ˛Đ°ŃŃваŃŃĐ¸Ń ĐłĐťĐ°Đ˛! (ĐŃ ĐąŃĐ´ĐľŃĐľ авŃОПаŃиŃĐľŃки поŃонапŃĐ°Đ˛ĐťĐľĐ˝Ń Đ˝Đ° книгŃ, кОгда ĐžŃĐşŃОоŃĐľ ĐżŃиНОМонио) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact- | Hello reading | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | VIDEO | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195287810476 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465965259_1253854269002871_4344064403924257808_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iAirx8hIbGkQ7kNvgEUicSg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3M1miOSQr_woseT4J3EEIm&oh=00_AYAsOmxCQW5XWZCoTo2mkoGAZFMIIgWWgFUfRJW0YRk3xg&oe=6745B87C | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đĽđĽClick to read the next chapter for freeđ | After six years, Stella Richard finally came back this familiar city. She walked out of the airport and hailed a taxi. When the taxi moved, all the memories she had tried to forget over the years began to flood her mind... Stella shook her head, chasing those thoughts away. This time, she hadnât come back to dwell on old, useless memories. She was back because her boss had asked her to return. He told her that their company was at a dead end, and he wanted her to come back and solve the crisis. At first, Stella didnât want to come, but after some thought, she decided to return... Six years ago, her boss had helped her during the most difficult time of her life, and she wanted to repay the favor... As for everything else, she no longer cared... At the Company... As Stella arrived, she noticed that most of the employees were engaged in a lively discussion. As she walked by, snippets of conversation reached her ears. "I heard that there are so many companies who want to buy our company." "Really! That means weâll have a new boss." "I just hope that our new boss should be good-looking, like a Korean drama CEO." "Hey! Do you know whoâs going to buy the company?" Stella heard their chatter but didnât care about the gossip. She knew these people didnât actually care about who would buy the company or for what price. They just wanted to gossip. But she... She cared... and she was here to secure a good deal for her company. "Of course, itâll be Kingstonâs, the RK Group. Who else in the city is powerful enough to challenge them?" Stella, who had been about to continue walking, stopped in her tracks. A name, both familiar and unfamiliar, reached her ears. "The Kingstons..." "RK Group..." Suddenly, memories Stella had locked away began to surge like a storm. Her mind was filled with those memories like a flood. Stella felt dizzy. It was as if she were still trapped in that RK mansion, surrounded by cold walls. Stella had thought she had long forgotten about him, but it seemed that it was just her illusion. [Flashback] Six Years Ago... In the RK Mansion... Stella walked out of the gate inside the living room. But her expression was somber. She moved as if in a daze. "Madam, what happened to you? Why do you look so pale and weak?" The one who spoke was Mia. She was working for Kingston's for years and always treated Stella like her daughter. Seeing her pale face and weak demeanor, Mia was worried. "Mia... Donât worry, Iâm fine. Itâs just..." Stella glanced at the reports in her hand and said, "I havenât had my period for two months, and when I went to the hospital..." She didnât finish her sentence, looking at Mia with a mix of expectation and worry. They just stared at each other. Mia understood what Stella wanted to say. She was pregnant. But Mia also knew about the relationship between Mr. RK and Stella. She didnât know what to say. In the end, she just congratulated her. Stella didnât say anything and kept staring at the reports in her hand. She had been married to Rene Kingston for three years. But theirs was not a marriage of love... It was a contract marriage, with a three-year time limit. Because the woman he loved was her sister. RK had been about to marry her sister, Sophia, but for some reason, Stella had ended up replacing her sister. From the day they married, he had told her that their marriage was just a three-year contract and nothing more. For RK, their marriage was indeed just a contract, but for Stella, it was a beautiful gift from God. Because only she knew how happy she was when she found out she was going to marry RK. The man she had loved throughout her youth. All these years, Stella had given her best in this marriage, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their marriage would work out. Maybe he wouldnât divorce her. Maybe he would want to stay with her... Maybe he would give their relationship a chance because of the child... Stella was still lost in thought when suddenly, a voice came from the door, shattering all her hopes and illusions. "I donât want this child." The voice was cold and hard. Stella and Mia both turned to look in the direction of the voice. RK was standing at the door, staring at Stella. His face was cold and expressionless. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He had a very handsome face and blue eyes. His blue eyes were like the deep ocean. If you looked into them. Then you would be drowned in it. Chapter 2 RK walked in and stood in front of Stella. He appeared like a king, towering above the world and looking down upon everyone as if they were nothing. With his tall frame and commanding aura, he exuded an undeniable power. Stella sat on the sofa, overwhelmed by his presence. She remained seated, staring at him, shocked by his words. She never expected this man to be so cold-blooded, uttering such harsh words without a second thought. There was no hesitation in his voice when he said he didnât want the child. Stella looked into his eyes, trying her best to remain calm and hold back her tears. She didnât want to appear weak in front of this cold man. The two of them just stared at each other in silence. After a while, RK walked over and sat opposite Stella. As he sat down, his assistant, Alex Triston, placed a stack of papers on the table. At the top of the papers were the words "Contract Expired." Alex looked at Stella and said, "Miss Richard, according to your contract with Mr. RK, three years have now been completed. Please sign here and finalize the process." Stella noted the change in how Alex addressed herâfrom Mrs. RK to Miss Richard. Even though she still hadn't signed her name. A mocking smile appeared on her face. She was sure that Alex wouldnât have dared to take her so lightly, if it hadnât been ordered by someone, of course, and that someone was none other than her husband. RK took the pen and signed his name without a pause or thought. After finishing, he looked at Stella and said, "You can stay here for a week and look for the house." Stella looked into the man's eyes which are calm as a lake. There was no regret, sadness, or hesitationânothing. It was as if he felt nothing about their relationship, which had suddenly gone through such a big change. But as this thought crossed her mind, she scolded herself. "Stella, are you a fool? How can you expect any regret or sadness from this stone-hearted man?" But still, she couldnât control her emotions. Because she had loved this stone-heated man for so many years. Stella didnât say anything and just looked at the man with whom she had spent the past three years. She had seen his face every day, yet now, as she looked at him, she still found him strikingly handsome. But... he was also the man who had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. She didnât want to show her vulnerability in front of him, so she tried her best not to cry. Her hand trembled as she held the pen. She looked at the papers, saw his elegant and strong handwriting, and signed her name. Just like her heart, her handwriting was also broken. Stella was shattered inside, but she didn't show this on her face. After she signed her name, she took a deep breath and said, "I am very grateful to Mr. Kingston that he allowed me to stay here for a week, but after our contract expires I don't think I should stay here. I will leave immediately." After speaking, Stella glanced at Mia and asked, "Mia, can you help me pack my things?" Mia looked at Stella's face and saw how hard she trying not to cry and her heartache. She didn't want to do this, but she had to do it. Stella went upstairs to pack her belongings, while RK watched her retreating figure, his emotions unreadable. Stella looked around the room where she had lived for three years, her eyes turned blurred... She can't hold back her tears. She knew their marriage would end someday, but she hadnât anticipated such intense pain in her heart. Stella didnât have many things to pack. She just packed her belongings but left everything RK had bought untouchedâ not even a single piece of clothing. Mia watched her in silence, unsure of what to say. Stella wiped away her tears and said, "Mia, donât worry about me. Iâm fine. Itâs just that Iâm not his Mrs. Right." With that, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Downstairs... RK was still sitting on the sofa, watching Stella. But Stella didn't want to look at him and was ready to leave... "Where are you going?" Suddenly, his cold voice cut through the silence. Stella paused and turned to look at him. She hadnât been on good terms with her family from the beginning, and after her marriage, it had been nearly impossible to maintain any connection with them. As for him, they were now divorced, so she felt no reason or obligation to tell him where she was going. "I donât think my whereabouts has anything to do with Mr. Kingston. Weâre already divorced and have nothing to do with each other. Mr. Kingston must be focused on his future wife, not on his ex-wife..." Stella's tone was cold and it was like she was throwing daggers from her mouth. She couldnât comprehend his hypocritical behavior. She wondered if it was her imagination or not, but it felt as though, after mentioning his future wife, the temperature in the room had dropped a lot. She felt a chill spread through her body and decided to leave. "Wait a second." His voice was firm and allowed no rebuttal. Chapter 3 Stella heard his voice and stopped. There was a little bit of hope in her heart. The man's eyes were dark and cold, filled with mysterious thoughts, and a layer of fog surrounded him. Suddenly, he spoke, "I don't want this child. Don't forget to take it out." RK looked at the woman in front of him and thought. She seemed like a pure and beautiful woman, and he didn't want her to carry his burden. Stella's hand, which was holding her luggage, trembled, and the little bit of hope in her heart vanished. She felt like someone had stabbed a knife into her heart. He had broken her heart so many times, but... she didnât know why she still felt hurt every time it happened. "Boooom." His words exploded in her head like a bomb, and the little bit of hope she had left in her heart was also gone. The hands holding the bag tightened. She felt like someone had stabbed her heart, and she could smell the blood. Suddenly, she laughed at herself. She felt like a fool. How could she expect anything from a man who was so cold toward his child? "If you don't want this child, then why did you sleep with me?" She wanted to yell at him, but in the end, she didnât say anything. He had once told her that he liked children, which was why she hadnât taken the pills. But... It was as if he liked children but not with her. Stella's heart was in so much pain, but she didnât want to let him see her tears. She didnât turn around, keeping her back facing him. Stella took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Kingston, donât think too much. I also donât want this child at all. I have already decided to get rid off it." She was about to leave but then stopped and said, "One more thing, I hope we donât see each other again in this life." After she said, Stella didnât stop for a minute and left. At first, she didnât want to leave this place, but now... She felt suffocated. Stella held her bag tightly and left without looking back. RK watched the womanâs back, struggling to keep herself straight and not stumble. His eyes were dark and filled with unreadable emotions. Only after her figure disappeared from his sight did his tense back relax. [Flashback end] "I am sorry, I didnât see you..." Suddenly, a man bumped into Stella, who was standing in the hallway. Files fell to the ground. But because of this she also came back from the memories from six years ago. "No, I am sorry," she said, helping him pick up the files before going into the elevator. As the elevator door opened, Jack Paul stood outside and greeted her. Jack Paul looked at Stella with a smile and said, "Stella, here you are. How are you? You are new here. If you need anything, please feel free to tell me." Stella looked at him and nodded. "I am fine, thank you." As they talked, they went to his office and sat down. Jack looked at Stella and said, "Stella, I am very happy that you accepted my offer and came back." As he spoke, he handed her a red file and continued, "I am sure you have heard that our company is going to be acquired by someone. This file contains the reports I made; take a look." Stella took the file and nodded. Jack continued, "Many companies want to buy our company, but among all of them, RK Groups is the best. However, the price offered by Mr. RK was too low." He paused and said, "This time, I ask you to come back so that you can turn the situation around." "RK Groups... Rene Kingston..." Stella's hands holding the file trembled. The memories she had locked away deep down in her heart suddenly resurfaced. Stella calmed herself and said, "I will do my best." "Thatâs good," Jack laughed and said. "Now that you have taken on this project, I am not worried anymore." Chapter 4 The next day, at a coffee shop... Stella had already organized all the documents and asked the negotiation director of the RK Group to meet her at the coffee shop. As she was waiting, a man wearing a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses came over. But when he walked over and saw Stella, he looked shocked. Stella also looked at the person in front of her and was shocked, too. Because the one standing in front of her was RK's assistant, Alex Triston. For a moment, both of them stayed quiet. It was Stella who took the initiative and said, "Long time no see." Alex heard her words and quickly regained his composure. He nodded and sat down. Stella didnât waste much time and went straight to the point. "Mr. Triston, here are the documents. If you find them satisfactory, please sign them." As she spoke, she pushed the documents in front of him. Alex looked at the eye-catching price of 70 million and was shocked. "Miss Richard, the RK Group can only offer 40 million. The price your company is asking for is very high." Stella didnât want to sign this contract from the beginning. She would never let that man become her boss. She felt like she was wasting her time on the RK Group and should find another company. "It's alright, but we can't sign this contract." She said, packing her things and deciding to leave. Alex saw that she was about to leave and that she wasnât interested in this deal, and he panicked. He rushed over and stopped her. "Miss Richard, please wait. Let me call and ask about the price again." Stella stopped and nodded. "Of course." Alex stepped to the side and made a call. **** At the RK Group's CEO office... RK was sitting in the head chair, listening to a report from the marketing department, when his phone rang. RK glanced at the phone and hung up. He didnât like being disturbed at work. But after a few seconds, it rang again. The people standing in the office saw his cold expression and trembled. They felt like the person on the other side was about to die. RK's face didnât look good, and the people reporting to him felt a chill down their spines. RK picked up the phone and asked, "What is it?" His voice was cold. Alex reported the situation on the other side. "Tell them itâs not going to happen. 70 million is too much; theyâre not worth it." After he finished speaking, he was about to hang up. But Alex said something that made him pause for a while. His fingers tapped on the table, and after a minute, he replied, "Okay, then let's agree to 70 million." After that, he paused for a moment and added, "Tell her Iâm coming to the company, and ask her to personally explain to me how itâs worth 70 million." After he spoke, he hung up the phone. There were some unknown emotions in his deep blue eyes. The people from the marketing department heard his words and were shocked. "The CEO is going to personally sign the contract." "Is that negotiation really worth his visit?" Moreover, they knew that in this negotiation, Mr. Kingston didnât need to be personally involved. All of them had question marks on their faces. **** Alex wasnât too far away, so Stella could hear parts of his conversation. She heard Alex directly reporting her name to the person on the other side of the phone. Within just three minutes... "Miss Richard, wait! Mr. Kingston said that they have no problem with your price. The agreement must be set according to your companyâs plan. Let's quickly sign the deal so that no one can back out." After he finished speaking, he took out the documents, signed his name, and handed the pen to Stella. Looking at his arrogant attitude, as if he had already bought her company, Stella was a little shocked. She stared at the pen in a daze. She hadnât expected the agreement between the two companies to go so smoothly and effortlessly. Stella felt like she had made her stand clear by not lowering her price and being firm in her decision. But who would have thought that RK would be even more determined than she was in the acquisition of the company? He even agreed to sign the contract at her price. "Didnât he pride himself on never changing his decisions, no matter what? Then why did he change this one?" she thought. "Was it because, after living with the love of his life, he changed?" But no matter what. Now, what could she do? Stella took the pen and signed her name. She didnât care about him anymore. Anyway, she wasnât going to stay here. Usually, she didnât want him to become her boss, but what could she do? She needed to finish this job and leave quickly. Alex put the documents back, shook hands with her, and said, "Miss Richard, from now on, weâre colleagues in the same company. Please take care of us in the future!" Stella just gave him a forced smile. Only she and God knew how much she didnât want this man to be her boss. Alex looked at her and added, "Miss Richard, please go back to the company quickly. Mr. Kingston will be there in a while. He said he wants you to... personally explain how your company is worth 70 million." Alex also didnât know why his boss wanted Miss Richard to do it personally, after what happened between them before. But as an assistant, he could only do as he was told. ***** On the way back to the company... Stella was sitting in the car, but her mind was filled with thoughts of how RK would soon become her boss. "Ahhh! Stella, youâre the best. You just signed the contract as soon as you showed up!" The one who speak was the assistant to the director of the company. "Stella, you donât know, but before you came, Mr. Paul sent many people to negotiate with Mr. Kingston, but he only kept lowering the price." She hugged Stella and said happily, "Stella, youâre our lucky star." Stella just lowered her head and didnât speak. Because it wasnât what she wanted. Lily continued, "Stella, you just came back, so you probably donât know much about the city, right?" As she spoke, she leaned closer to Stellaâs ear and whispered, "Let me tell you, Mr. Kingston is the most handsome man in X City. Heâs not only handsome but also rich and capable. Heâs the dream man of many women in the world." Stella heard her words and felt speechless. "I heard that he had a fiancĂŠe before, but he already left her, six years ago," Lily said. "He didnât marry her sister?" Stella couldnât believe they hadnât married yet. Didnât he give her a divorce because he wanted to marry her sister? She thought that by now, they must be married, have children, and be living happily together. "Stella, here you are." When Jack heard that Stella had reached an agreement with RK Groups, he personally came to welcome her with a big smile on his face. "Stella, you didnât disappoint me. Quickly, go to the meeting room and sit for a while. Mr. Kingston will be here soon, and you will come with me to welcome him." | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 842 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463458162_1057416305697342_2990773163964624253_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=74MbehXEYNEQ7kNvgEHxuvT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYAAUZp7_pIKD2HbANC7Xg38vIIr6gfMReTO7Orxz26qvQ&oe=6745AFFF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463384564_1258191665321352_3920804691950976922_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=owKWd7ipD7gQ7kNvgHYKfEG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5jz7ZpxlbeEAcuB0df0uRZ&oh=00_AYAOtsEiPdOCx4YFZqVRO4TwYjpEbKCJYFTBex6PDb8BuQ&oe=6745BC15 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | Liesel Sharp had just unlocked her phone while waiting for her IV drip to be done when she received a message from her best friend, Chelsea Walden. "Jacob's back." She faltered. She and Jacob Ford had barely spoken throughout their month-long cold war, so she had no idea he was back. Soon, she received another message. "He's brought a young woman back with him." A photo had been sent with the message. The young woman in the photo resembled Liesel a littleâshe was Natalie Sharp, Liesel's younger half-sister. She'd been raised in the countryside. Chelsea continued, "The Sharp family is throwing them a welcome-back party. Do you want to crash it, Lili?" She knew what Liesel was like. Liesel would give Jacob a taste of his own medicine if he dared to do anything to her. There was even a chance she would set the Sharp residence on fire. Liesel checked her IV bag. She'd had a high fever for three days now, and the back of her hand was swollen from the constant IV drips she'd been on. She wasn't in the mood for that nonsense. "No," she replied. Then, she shut her eyes to get some rest. It was close to 10:00 pm when she took a cab back to Viewpoint Residences. The fever had taken its toll on her, so she soon drifted into a restless sleep. Jacob returned at some point, which woke her up. "Did I wake you?" he asked while rolling up the sleeves of his ironed shirt. He looked down at her with an indifferent gaze. His voice was as alluring as always, though. "No." Liesel's voice was a little nasal because she'd just woken up. She explained lazily, "I wasn't sleeping too soundly after taking my meds." He frowned slightly. "Are you sick?" She chuckled softly. She'd been sick for a while now and had mentioned it in her texts to him when admitting defeat. Yet he looked like he'd only just noticed. She poured two glasses of water and handed one to him. "How are things at Norton City? I heard from Brook that there seemed to be some trouble with it. Youâ" Her throat felt dry and uncomfortable; she wasn't in the mood to chat. Still, someone had to back downâit had been nearly two months since they'd seen each other. However, Jacob cut her off. "Let's divorce." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465213480_523643177252179_1090236802447429735_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=q5VTrqvIu-EQ7kNvgFJyWDh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYDJtxadKQy7wYr4JilrKErS0QbDGMjcEDuIehYvU_-cww&oe=6745A119 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled helplessly. Who would take away the all the blood they needed at the last moment? The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you still don't want to see me. ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit. But for this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress she had never tried on before. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. "I'll wear this one," Debra made up her mind and said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's got a terrible taste, his wife is much prettier than the skinny woman he brought. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Meanwhile, Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463956934_832516948956211_2350907764249594106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3z97FL8QK-kQ7kNvgHD5CmG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYCd_Z4-EPC3mEo-oSyF1X-kucuowOd15L6Vi9t0ZN0rOg&oe=674599E1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-21 19:36 | active | 1905 | 0 |
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "General Aurora Yates? Queen dowager has praised her as a role model for all women. Is she willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Carissa's soft smile was wiped off by a mocking one. Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking his vow... A year ago, on their wedding night, Barrett had been called away for battle. Before he left, he had lifted her veil and vowed, "Carissa, youâre the only woman I will ever love. Iâll never take a concubine!" Buying his promise, Carissa had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, so she had never regreted supporting the Warren household with her dowry in the past year. But now, in exchange for his victory, Barrett asked the king for nothing but another woman's hand in marriage, and even went far to use his so-called "glorified victory" to shut her up... Carissa felt a lump in her throat, but she swallowed it down, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" Barrettâs eyes softened for a moment, "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, General, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. "Carissa." An all-too-familiar voice suddenly called from the doorway, followed by the steady tapping of a cane, pulling Carissa out of her thoughts. To her surprise, it was Rebecca Warren, Barrett's mother. In all the time Barrett had been away, this was the first time Rebecca had visited. Surpressing her anger, Carrisa quickly rose, taking Rebecca's arm from the maid, âMother, you could have summoned me. Thereâs no need to trouble yourself.â Barrett frowned, stepping forward. âMother, I told you Iâve got thisâ" Rebecca shot her son a reproachful glance, then turned to Carrisa, bursting into an affectionate smile, "Carissa, Itâs been a tough year, especially with your familyâs tragedy. Now, youâre the only one left of the Marquis' family. But fortunately, now that Barrett is back, you finally have support again." Carissa stiffened, her suspicions confirmed. Rebecca hadnât come here out of concernâshe had come to remind her that without her family, Carissa had no one left to turn to. Her future, her very existence, now depended solely on Barrettâs mercy. With that, Carissa pulled her hand away and calmly said, "Mother, I heard you met General Yates today." Rebeccaâs smile faltered for a split second before she replied, "Yes, I did. Sheâs... rough around the edges, not nearly as refined as you." Carissa smiles, her eyes sliding to Barrett, then back to Rebecca. "So, you donât like her then, Mother?" Barrett bristled at the question, but Rebecca raised a hand, stopping him, "Well, Itâs too soon to judge, isn't it? But since the king has arranged the marriage, itâs a done deal. In the future, Aurora and Barrett will earn military merits together as husband and wife, while you can manage the household and enjoy the fruits of their labor. Isnât that perfect?" "Perfect indeed!" Carissa smiled, her tone, though, soon turned chilly, "But since theyâre the husband and wife, I see no point of me staying here." Barrettâs eyes flashed with anger, but before he could respond, Rebecca stepped in, her tone sharp, "Where does that come from? Yo'll still in charge of the household. You do know everyone has been satisfied with your work in the past year, don't you?" Carissa's lip curled into a sarcastic smile. Satisfied? They had only been satisfied because she had used her own money to keep them afloat! Let alone the fact that most of it went directly to the medical expense for Rebecca herself - she would be the last one wanting Carissa out of the role! Carissa didnât mind it before, as she had really wished to spend her life with Barrett. However, since circumstances had changed, she no longer wanted to be taken as a fool. âMother,â Carissa said calmly, "I only took charge because sister Amelia was unwell. Now that sheâs recovered, she can resume her duties. Tomorrow, Iâll go over the accounts and hand everything back." Barrett clenched his fists, snapping, âFine! Donât think we canât manage without youâ" "Barret!" Rebecca quickly cut him off, her eyes narrowing. "Carissa, youâre being unreasonable. Itâs normal for men to take multiple wives. If you canât accept that, people will think youâre jealous and narrow-minded." Carissaâs compliance over the past year had made Rebecca think she was easy to manipulate. Rebecca firmly believed a few harsh words would always keep her in line. But to her surprise, Carissa didn't back down at all this time, "Then let them be. I can't care less about their opinions." Rebecca was so angry that she struggled to breathe and started coughing harshly. "Enough, Carissa!" Barrett boomed, rushing to his motherâs side and patting her back, saying, "Mom, let's waste no more time with her! The kingâs edict is final, she has no choice but to accept it!â Recovering from the cough, Rebecca also chimed in, "Yes, Carissa. We'll leave you think about it." As Carissa watched Barret storm out with his mother, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, Old Mrs. Warren and my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âBarret and I never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464224028_2446917542165427_1252976517480997951_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=htR0FO0tvQwQ7kNvgGIzEkX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYCTriKzwDUBy3idgEvxxU7zvxGIu74Rt4DeKKHyUCpLYw&oe=6745AEBC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasnât a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwickâs most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldnât have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. âMr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?â Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife whoâd just learned of her husbandâs charges. Her demeanor was all business. âAnd are you asking as the corporate attorney, orâŚâ he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, âas my wife?â The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. âIs there a difference?â He raised an eyebrow. âIf youâre here as an attorney, I want a replacement.â He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. âIf youâre here as my wife, then you should start by calling me âhoney.ââ Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. âIf the charges stick, youâll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.â Helenaâs cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, âTired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought youâd try bread and pickles for a change?â Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. âWhat, worried about me?â Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. âThis is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,â she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. âAnd remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.â Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoonâor the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrestâshe wouldnât have bothered with him at all. It wasnât until Helenaâs figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadnât even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not heâd assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. Sheâd personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Ericâs aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking seniorâa man sheâd worked part-time jobs withâcame from a prominent family. That was until Ericâs mother warned her, âA beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! âMy son has a fiancĂŠeâsomeone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didnât know, theyâll be going abroad together soon. âYouâd better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.â Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadnât hidden his identity, she wouldnât have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Ericâs mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. âEric, itâs been a long time.â Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the âJudge"âonce he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kennethâs role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. âWhen did you and Mr. Keller get married?â Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, âAlmost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?â It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Ericâs gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, âAre you certain you were with him the entire night?â After a brief pause, he added, âAs a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.â Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. âAccording to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.â Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.â Helenaâs voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldnât help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Ericâs silence, couldnât hold back. âThe victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Kellerâsâthatâs our strongest evidence!â Helenaâs sharp, clear gaze didnât waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. âAfter more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.â The secondary officer protested, âWhat if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?â âWhat if?â Helenaâs lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. âWhat if he wasnât there at all? Itâs the policeâs duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesnât permit presumption of guilt.â The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. âYouâŚdo you really believe him?â Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kennethâs defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadnât been to go to the station. Instead, sheâd instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, heâd never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, âI only trust the evidence.â Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kennethâs suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helenaâs request for bail. âSomeone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captainâs handsâlooks like weâre in for a miracle,â murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesnât she? Sheâs not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal casesâdefinitely worth a second look." "Sheâs actually two years his juniorâtheyâre both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Ericâs hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, heâd take her with him; heâd even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kennethâs car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kennethâs security guards quickly covered Ericâs mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kennethâs unrestrained fist. "Sheâs mine. Try to get close to her again, and I donât care if your last nameâs LangstonâIâll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth âaccidentallyâ called him, letting him hear Helena say she didnât want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldnât. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helenaâs body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "Whatâs gotten into you now?" "Didnât sleep all nightâcanât walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, âServes you right,â under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldnât budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, sheâd kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. âWhat are you up to now?â From the first day sheâd met Kenneth, sheâd learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kennethâs roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. âComing all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'âthanks for the effort, honey.â Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. âWhere did you actually go last night?â Helena finally asked after theyâd driven a fair distance from the station. Though sheâd found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didnât have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldnât be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldnât fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, âDid you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?â No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset divisionâthe very foundation of their contractual union. âMr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,â Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, âRight now, youâre only out on bail. The police havenât dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.â Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. âDo youâŚbelieve I didnât do it?â Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kennethâs odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You donât need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the countryâs top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when heâd let his guard slipâan infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. âSince you know me so well, Miss Lane, why donât you take a guess at where I was last night?â Helena frowned slightly. âMr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.â âAnd so what?â Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. âAre you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?â Realizing heâd let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. âTake a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.â Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. âThe afternoonâs bidding event is important. Youâll need to attend in top form.â Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. âMiss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if thatâs the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.â Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwickâs largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothingânot even a contractâcould rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kennethâs grandmother, Rachel Wilson. âHelena, the bidding event is over, right? Donât forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!â That was when it hit Helenaâit was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, sheâd been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kennethâs issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didnât answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out sheâd been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction sheâd face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance heâd be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, Iâm sorry, but Mr. Keller said heâs unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, sheâd caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadnât seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasnât short of female company. So, he was irritated that sheâd interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. âFive minutes. If you donât come down by then, Iâm leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.â Helena pulled out her phone, found Kennethâs profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text sheâd sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which heâd replied with a curt âWhatever.â After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, âKenneth Keller fears nothing and no oneâexcept a call from his grandmother.â While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one⌠except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. âGrown some nerve, havenât you? Threatening me now?â Kennethâs eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phoneâs alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. âYou flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didnât mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.â Kennethâs frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, âToo bad your last name isnât Keller. Otherwise, people might think youâre her real grandchild.â With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the carâs heaterâset to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, sheâd been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kennethâs approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kennethâs loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller familyâs support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporationâs legal department, shielding Kennethâs reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept togetherâand were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachelâs worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller familyâs debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachelâs mind, Helena agreed to Kennethâs proposal. Though she wasnât Rachelâs biological granddaughterâand Rachelâs decision to adopt her had been partly self-servingâover the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kennethâs movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. âFor Grandmaâs sake, please bear with me, dear husband.â âLikewise.â Kennethâs thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. âThank you for your hard work, dear wife.â After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helenaâs hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldnât shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughterânone of whom had lived up to expectations. Kennethâs grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kennethâs father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kennethâs third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walterâs only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended familyâs descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helenaâs abdomen. Helenaâs unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldnât say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kennethâs eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. âI thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?â With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." âHelena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. Youâre letting her down!â Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. âCelebration dinner, family dinnerâit doesnât matter. If thereâs food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. âThe biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. âNeither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If youâre so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?â Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasmâeven an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, weâre your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the familyâs sake," Jerome replied, holding Kennethâs sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why donât we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helenaâs heart skipped a beat. Sheâd received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jeromeâs embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasnât one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadnât let her downâKenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachelâs presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, âLena, is everything alright?â âGrandma.â Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachelâs hand with a reassuring smile. âIf something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?â Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. âUncle Jerome, I didnât expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if youâd had someone tailing me!â Helena indirectly called out Jeromeâs surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. âAs your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly donât understand what youâre implying. Why donât you clarify what exactly it is that Iâve done thatâs so questionable?â Chapter 0005 Jerome knew heâd misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. âThis morning, you rushed off to the police stationâwasnât it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?â Helenaâs heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. Sheâd underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didnât deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jeromeâs words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helenaâs mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, Iâd certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jeromeâs pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Ericâs position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Ericâs demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though heâd seen right through Jeromeâs intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Ericâs schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kennethâwitnesses and evidence stacked against himâHelena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasnât just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helenaâs relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helenaâs support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadnât anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, âSo if it wasnât to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?â Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jeromeâs direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jeromeâs disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. âIt seems the Keller family meal doesnât suit everyoneâs taste,â Kenneth said, his voice calm. âIn that case, no one needs to eat.â He paused briefly before adding, âAnd as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, itâs time we canceled that as well.â With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. âKen, youâve managed to offend all your relatives.â Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. âThey openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldnât offend me?â Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? Heâd clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of âprotectingâ her. Rachelâs gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. âSeeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!â âWell, since youâre at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?â Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachelâs arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helenaâs cheek, his eyes on her. âWhat do you say, darling?â Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. âAh, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, Iâd be content even in death!â Helenaâs mind immediately flashed back to Kennethâs earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helenaâs abdomen. He must have said something he shouldnât have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldnât bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, âGrandma, as long as you take care of yourself, Iâm sure that day will come.â Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didnât respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. âMr. Langstonâheâs still lingering around you, isnât he?â Seeing she didnât immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. âIf youâre truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. Thereâs no need to sneak around behind my back.â Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldnât stand it anymore and snapped, âKenneth, whatâs gotten into you? Havenât I played along enough with all your schemes?â Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, âI just donât want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.â Thinking of Jeromeâs earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within herâa warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=W-XebbGdZEUQ7kNvgHLNO7I&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYBfjiUEAH_uKDzjd13i6Kjhu5DZiqM717mqHE-PCETeMA&oe=6745B552 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⌠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⌠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⌠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⌠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŚ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a1e61cqcwaEQ7kNvgEsFnvG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYAANoh7dUIvcCbVJHDyvLhH7hz6JGMh7Zd6f2ZcTg-Y6w&oe=6745955F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Itâs not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owenâs family. I grew up with him. We were inexplicably attracted to each other but we dared not to admit it. Until that one crazy night... anyway we got married when we were both 22. Now, itâs been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. âOwen?â I called out. âOwen, where are you?â He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: âNo, I donât think I love her anymore.â Owenâs words gave me icy chills. âHow could he say that?!â My heart was broken. Owen left without any explanation that night. When Owen came back he was very drunk. He started kissing me and called me Josie. I couldnât believe what I heard⌠âJosieâŚ? Were you with Josie?â I asked with panic in my voice. I couldnât believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. Life passed, I became more and more painful. I finally got divorced with Owen. I thought there would be no relationship between us. But the appearance of Raymond gave me fresh hope for love. Raymond was Owenâs uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, handsome and rich. He was one of the most attractive men I knew. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back 10 years ago to take over his familyâs business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldnât believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didnât know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? Heâs always there when I was in danger and even got injured when protecting me. But I can not accept him as his relationship with my ex-husband. Then the unexpected thing happened. My best friend set me up. When I woke up, I found myself under Raymond's sheet. âDonât be scared, Noah.â âIâll protect you.â âIâm willing to take responsibility.â âNoah, I love you.â His magnetic voice always lingered in my ears. Could I trust him? What will happen if I get involved in this forbidden relationship? | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12088&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12088&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448761212_999988184491714_8141244835199273968_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7vifd7m2unoQ7kNvgEoy5LD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJ8X3ONxY_vOf4UIUPiWLiE&oh=00_AYAlAEkPiM6vcMsRhEzI9KCLDHFedJME_C6iLkXwnhhhLQ&oe=6745CAAD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read more FREE chaptersđ | This wasnât the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it beâŚ? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owenâs family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I canât believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why⌠I had to confront him. âOwen?â I called out. âOwen, where are you?â He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: âNo, I donât think I love her anymore.â His words gave me icy chills. âYou should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.â Owen continued. âHe said...what?â I couldnât believe my ears and cried in my heart, âHow dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! â Hearing Owenâs frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, âQuestion him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I donât think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.â So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. âJust in time for your dinner, hun!â I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. âWhere are you going? Itâs getting late and dinner is ready.â I said. âDinner with a client. Donât wait for me.â Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food Iâd carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasnât hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that werenât perfect. My belly wasnât as flat as it used to be. Maybe I shouldâve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... âJoiseâ! âJosieâŚ? Were you with Josie?â I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldnât understand. I couldnât believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didnât recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. âOwen, are you OK?â I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, âIf youâre sick, go see a doctor.â I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: âJosieâ. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said âJosieâ. He answered: âHello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.â I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldnât hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he wouldâve never let me suffer like this. âIâll pick you up later.â Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. âPlease, donât leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. Iâm too weak to be all by myself.â He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldnât help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: âIn sickness and in health, in good times and badâ. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: âHello, Noah?â The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. âIâm so sick, Iâm so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, pleaseâŚâ I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. âIâll be right there.â Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. Whatâs wrong? I didnât have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owenâs uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymondâs appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his familyâs business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. âDoes Owen know youâre sick?â Raymond said, looking concerned. âHow did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?â I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. âDon't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.â Oops, I must have pressed the number of âOwenâs Bossâ instead of âOwenâ. I apologized for the inconvenience. âYou are a member of our family, Noah. Itâs my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.â Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. âThank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.â I said with a relieved sigh. âOf course, Noah. Whenever you need me, Iâll be there.â He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldnât have shared my familyâs private problems with another man who I didnât even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? âI donât think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.â I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. âHow could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!â Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. âPlease, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.â I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadnât seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymondâs aftershave smelled a little special. âRaymond? Noah? What are you doing?!â I suddenly heard Owenâs angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didnât seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. âSo, youâve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!â Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasnât the one who couldnât be trusted! âOwen! How dare you talk to her like that! Itâs not our familyâs manner!â Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymondâs fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didnât want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. âRaymond, itâs okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.â I said gratefully. âPlease, donât say anything about Josieâ, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldnât detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. âOwen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymondâs number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.â Owen grabbed me and said, âWell, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and âfallâ right into his arms.â He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. âYou can go back to your important job now, uncle. Iâll look after my wife.â Raymondâs eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that heâd better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didnât want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. âOwen⌠What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?â I asked. âSo what? Whose wife do you want to be?â Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. âI know you cheated on me, Owen.â I uttered with pain in my voice. âYouâve been seeing Josie, right?â Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. âWhat do you know, Noah?â he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: âSomeone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didnât want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. âOwen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I canât believe you would cheat me like that!â I cried, âOwen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!â His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldnât answer, Owen said: âItâs true. I love her. I love Josie.â Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? âWhy, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?â I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. âOwen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.â He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, âI donât have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!â I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didnât fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldnât get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: âYou lost your footing. Itâs not my fault.â There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. âRaymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.â âI came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You havenât ⌠Noah?â Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. âThis is how you treat your wife?! I donât believe you. Donât you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!â Raymond raged at his nephew. I didnât even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. âTwice in one day? That must be a record.â The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, âNot by choiceâŚâ The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. âI donât normally need so much help, you know.â I broke the ice. âI happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.â Raymond laughed heartily. âJokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.â I continued. âWhy did you come over tonight, Raymond?â âOwen hadnât come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.â Raymond explained. âI just canât believe what he did to you!â He continued. âIf he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. Iâll teach him a lesson.â His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. âThank you, Raymond. Iâm okay now. It was an accident. Owen didnât push me off the stairs on purpose. He didnât mean to hurt me.â I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. âGoodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.â I said with feeling as he hugged me. âBye, Noah. Itâs been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.â He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldnât believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didnât he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josieâs betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. âHow dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for Godâs sake!â I cried out. They hadnât heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasnât so devastated, it mightâve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josieâs blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. âI donât believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!â I insisted. Josie hid away in Owenâs arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: âYouâve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?â âI am done with you.â He continued. âOur whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie shouldâve been with me all along!â I didnât understand. âWhat are you talking about, Owen?â He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josieâs collarbone. âRemember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. Youâve made her suffer long enough!â I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didnât believe me. âJosie,â I cried. âHow could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! Weâve been best friends since the orphanage, havenât we? Does that mean nothing to you?â âNoah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,âJosie played innocent with me, âI should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.â This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldnât see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were naturalďź I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josieâs waist and warned me, âYouâd better stay out of our life from now on. Iâll move to another villa with Josie.â I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other⌠But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, ânecklaceâ is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didnât believe our years of affection couldnât prove my heart. âNoah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.â Josie said. âOne day youâll both regret this. I didnât do anything wrong.â I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: âItâs my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldnât have suffered so much.â I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owenâs whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owenâs angry shouting: âHow dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!â Chapter 6 - Choice Noah âWhat?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what youâre talking about.â I replied to the angry voice on the phone. âMore lies! I canât believe you, Noah. You're despicable!â Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. âOwen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?â âJosie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!â He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. âOh, itâs our âold friendâ.â The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josieâs room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. âFinally! That took you long enough.â He whispered angrily. âJosie is sleeping.â He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. âI have no idea what happened, Owen.â I said honestly. âCan you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?â âAre you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.â He shook his head, then continued. âJosie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.â âWhat? That's horrible!â I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. âStop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.â No wonder he doubted me. But I couldnât believe the trust between us was so fragile. âWould you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?â I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: âNever again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.â I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to meďź On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. âI didnât prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?â I said plainly. I didnât know why he came back at this time, but I didnât care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, âYou still donât want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!â âJosie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!â I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. âI choose divorce.â I said coldly. âGood. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,âOwen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, âOh, Iâve prepared another âsurpriseâ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!â | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463597775_582094714153271_4372770918399302515_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RvElDNn0hz8Q7kNvgEhelqK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYBPD9qdlyKXHz_0dhnPHJ711B5MqL1wl6LKgwrkTTXVuA&oe=6745CB90 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465016650_546682848318838_7095522676840014546_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XYo6ovBETywQ7kNvgFgccv4&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AIoy_gYI-oSrKTGHT0EQkml&oh=00_AYBJwYTk8YQ5b6nIGgTHjBB6FSwzB8hARMnqROZbWHj19A&oe=6745B6A1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didnât realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 842 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8bssSoVGnhsQ7kNvgG6Me0V&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJ8X3ONxY_vOf4UIUPiWLiE&oh=00_AYBjHo_7HVgcRsmfE7rMoLPTUblLC4M3UdLgEzLVzq2rhA&oe=67459D2F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicďźđ | "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing severe postpartum hemorrhage. Please, come and see her for the last time." The doctor anxiously pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone. But Juan Nichols's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from the eyes of the woman lying on the bed. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating Debra's vital signs had disappeared. In Debra's lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she died alone and tragically. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophieâs voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress she has never tried on before. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. ... In the evening, the auction venue was filled with celebrities, and Juan walked to the entrance with Shelia. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when his assistant Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise and praise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462661789_1234587497739090_7609319522996207367_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OhTFfEe8gpAQ7kNvgFpT8af&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A--hbIVMe4X0xy7L2vieAjo&oh=00_AYAW4Zt3PZBIeWMRvj10mTz8hZVsN-HwNa_fcYSZ0xFrbQ&oe=6745C218 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I donât really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wifeâs veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "Sheâs unlike any woman Iâve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, sheâs talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasnât seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "Thatâs them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "Itâs fine. If she says anything unpleasant, Iâll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Donât you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. âWhy put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.â âOh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered â assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463462002_1086746086214673_140892699331581138_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uKWi-qvmFlIQ7kNvgEEcZaG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoVwcBqbDTXJy8a8quxnlH-&oh=00_AYDVtn20ie3n-OfU6HHmpVtX9fzMqMmKTzFKjxUSuTZk1A&oe=6745AE03 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmotherâEdith Gibsonâfigured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulderâeach step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objectsâit extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However⌠"If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were⌠I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's sharesâthe ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella ZieglerâMadeline's motherâand quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylarâpreviously 'Jolene', with her kids in towâshowed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew upâher mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. ⌠Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a messâresignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it wasâa dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorceâkinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very homeâLydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughtsâthey're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that shipâthe crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagleâa woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistantâDaniel Harrisâwho was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual selfâunresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickeredâa brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptionalâtangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebookâher secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. ⌠At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, butâŚ" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled toâher shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guessâit was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=m4cMYFOfafAQ7kNvgH5epOE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AUgm1eHH88bIH1GPnxL_uvb&oh=00_AYC-Jm54fNsUlSD2k085E-QoBJri6_yPWmbNCgQwjA30YA&oe=6745A2BB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |