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2,281,682	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 01:39	active	1687	TO DAY 49% OFF Leather Waterproof Cosmetic Bag	"🤔 Too many cosmetics, storage a challenge? 😣 💄 Try this Leather Folding Cosmetic Bag, the change is instant! 👜 Large capacity, even more cosmetics can easily fit. 💼 High-value appearance, fashionable and portable, a must-have for traveling! 💦 Waterproof function, carefully take care of your beauty baby. 🎒 Folding storage, compact and lightweight, easy to put into your backpack. 🧳 Travel essential folding bag, let beauty go with you! 💖 From now on, beauty storage is no longer a hassle and traveling is worry-free!"	SHOP_NOW	http://cbag.exssale.com/	Beauty Brows	https://www.facebook.com/61567881371543/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	cbag.exssale.com	VIDEO		http://cbag.exssale.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465410703_2831790390314502_7580262887885841129_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LGYHvZsrlVIQ7kNvgGAh7zL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5qfCEZO-Hx46SWK8ucaKWE&oh=00_AYBBj5QfzgMTbFLxr8d80oxlsCv2e6muDnVC4JoBFSrRSw&oe=672F88BB	PERSON_PROFILE	Beauty Brows	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,286,675	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2286626}'	No	2024-11-05 02:09	active	1686	Click to watch the sequel👉👉👉	🌟Brooklyn, secretly Bristal’s richest heiress, endured three years of hidden heartbreak with Charlie. After betrayal and tragedy, she reclaims her true identity, leaving her doubters in awe. Will Charlie win her back? 📲 Watch My Poor Billionaire Wife on Shortmax!	WATCH_MORE	https://xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com/fb02.html?shorttv_adi	SHORT TV	https://www.facebook.com/61551042265812/	1,047,961	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch more	xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com	VIDEO		https://xsrrq.i299sdgktl.com/fb02.html?shorttv_adid=37740&language=en&timestamp=1730716376912&utm_source=facebook&campaign_id={{campaign.id}}&campaign_name={{campaign.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/t39.35426-6/465118544_573174368731400_2763301693127361463_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PSu7FghK9VAQ7kNvgGh7k0G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ADIweAVXCMcch0fTPlrduF-&oh=00_AYAM-GsTpF7Ry9llH4dpCBiC4f89ED9HSyGBU_n46FGJhA&oe=672FAF8C	PERSON_PROFILE	SHORT TV	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,282,700	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2282695}'	Yes	2024-11-05 01:42	active	1687	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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 her 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." a maid’s 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. Shelia liked white dresses. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please 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. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to dress like that for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," the maid 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." The maid 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 leather combat boots saw her. 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."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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/t39.35426-6/461326695_1040510124435025_5317424030811283259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yq6u2YZyh8EQ7kNvgGnmKm1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwdNlNFNGW-gJZYCq6YXMic&oh=00_AYCoeckr3n0yA0iFuBZlz6YwolkU2SSixdJr5irtfLhGjQ&oe=672F9DB3	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,844	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283810}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father told us that our debts had all been repaid. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. As far as my parents knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as his toy. But what other choice did I have? I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. I had no idea when Joseph would return. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464446123_872410864981319_4606585567578669790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yj40XyKRVjYQ7kNvgFbngSu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYDuNEXLsy7H7zwGgePZiRe9mcgBE6mDv1ml4DOI8rqGLA&oe=672F8A13	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,821	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283317}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tohcVilq6qgQ7kNvgGqGX2l&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYBoRBRBcjKeOcDLB6PjEWROz9ommEY6AJ_r1DhrHKhFmg&oe=672F91EB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,834	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283420}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	😍Read the next chapters👉	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 grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured 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 boulder—each 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 objects—it 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 shares—the 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 Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and 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 Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed 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 up—her 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 mess—resignation 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 was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda 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 home—Lydia 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, thoughts—they'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 ship—the 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 Yagle—a 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 assistant—Daniel Harris—who 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 self—unresponsive 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 flickered—a 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 exceptional—tangy 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 notebook—her 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, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her 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 guess—it 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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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=QI7ZWK7uy6AQ7kNvgFOgSw1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYAmeJEgORDc4RT-CzKxy0-XJ9TjfxCmSx3lXkXN3ps8HA&oe=672F9C5F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,815	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283810}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464613788_1229065298338733_5472258890189944958_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l0sKaS0jqy4Q7kNvgEU7qSd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYDIBlwyRbZGrGQo7tu6If6b-41LkZ-eqnpG2q0GNJWnug&oe=672FB321	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,826	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283317}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tohcVilq6qgQ7kNvgGqGX2l&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYBoRBRBcjKeOcDLB6PjEWROz9ommEY6AJ_r1DhrHKhFmg&oe=672F91EB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,281,303	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2280358}'	Yes	2024-11-05 01:27	active	1685	Back Road Beauties and Turquoise Saddle	Giveaway Time 🎅🏻 Like/Love this post 🦌 Share this post on your personal page 🎄 Tag 10 friends below in comments ⭐️ Comment favorite Christmas emoji Win! Win! Win! $250+ Christmas Gift Package Includes: Jewelry Christmas Custom Tees Scents/Candles Consuela Bag And More…. Winner will be announced Live on Sunday, Nov 10th! Love, Share & Tag	CALL_NOW		Back Road Beauties and Turquoise Saddle	https://www.facebook.com/BackRoadBeautiesBoutique/	131,325	1969-12-31 18:00	Call now		IMAGE	We are your ONE stop shop for CUSTOM tees , Embroidery and Fashion!		1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465782615_1284068459177483_4672705381328527315_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=t3PAdc1UXTkQ7kNvgGQYdFX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Awbf8uBujYage50uVUj-Qbv&oh=00_AYBd5xnAQtfczFQWljFlbO7zDX5DG7g6_e4D_3y0F32Fpg&oe=672F9833	PERSON_PROFILE	Back Road Beauties and Turquoise Saddle	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,838	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2283420}'	No	2024-11-05 01:56	active	1688	😍Read the next chapters👉	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 grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured 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 boulder—each 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 objects—it 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 shares—the 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 Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and 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 Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed 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 up—her 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 mess—resignation 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 was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda 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 home—Lydia 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, thoughts—they'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 ship—the 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 Yagle—a 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 assistant—Daniel Harris—who 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 self—unresponsive 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 flickered—a 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 exceptional—tangy 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 notebook—her 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, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her 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 guess—it 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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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=QI7ZWK7uy6AQ7kNvgFOgSw1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AJKSKfXNAsgjm0pccnZ8fuJ&oh=00_AYAmeJEgORDc4RT-CzKxy0-XJ9TjfxCmSx3lXkXN3ps8HA&oe=672F9C5F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,280,724	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2280723}'	Yes	2024-11-05 01:25	active	1685			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/cutellamedspa	Cutella Medical Spa	https://www.facebook.com/cutellamedspa/	550	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/cutellamedspa	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465576563_8430068193789502_5999079578381526831_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=VGpk_bXQ98EQ7kNvgEojL3s&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ahu-cBfBuWPSNJ2aJJHJjuj&oh=00_AYDeAsvi6djc4kfmiiX0OMBrSF3v7xh62OrUiUIfZQrsgA&oe=672F85E4	PERSON_PROFILE	Cutella Medical Spa	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,281,681	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 01:39	active	1687	Take Control of Your Diabetes with Dr. O'Neill's Help! 🌿	Unexplained fatigue? Excessive thirst? Blurred vision? These could be signs of diabetes. Dr. O'Neill's natural solutions can help you manage your symptoms and prevent serious complications. Don't wait, take control of your health today! Click to learn more. ✅	LEARN_MORE	http://mirrorty.shop/	𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖮'𝖭𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅	https://www.facebook.com/61553041657994/	49	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mirrorty.shop	IMAGE	Remember, the Truth is simple, don't listen to anyone: you can cure diabetes and stabilize your blood sugar once and for all, at any age, at any stage of the disease	http://mirrorty.shop/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/454542915_1080019526881946_5454139744815491807_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=a-1GnQeuy3UQ7kNvgH2g-2m&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5qfCEZO-Hx46SWK8ucaKWE&oh=00_AYCBGnFDjA7q4CFqnk7PjNDJHFkjGNbqsayeo3k-0ohWtw&oe=672FA6A5	PERSON_PROFILE	𝖡𝖺𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖮'𝖭𝖾𝗂𝗅𝗅	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,282,726	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2282660}'	No	2024-11-05 01:42	active	1687	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Lily POV After my mother slapped me and pushed me down the stairs on the morning of my sister Stephanie's death memorial, I fell unconscious, but the moment I woke up, I was in Stepahnie's memorial while my fated mate Alpha James mind-linked me, "Little Mate, don't you want to know who spent the night in my bedroom last night?" James smirked at me. This is his revenge for Stephanie, his late girlfriend. "You deserve this. Vile murderer! That's how you pay for causing my girlfriend's death!" He roared at me the other day by the waterfall when we found each other to be fated mates. My dead sister's boyfriend and I. What a joke the Moon Goddess plays. But I will not sit idly when the betrayal pains were about to rip my heart apart. "I, Lily Borgen, reject you Alpha James!" I snarled back. ... James POV It's been a few months since I accepted Lily rejection and she ran away from the pack. Regrets are the only thing I ever feel these days. I love her, she is my fated mate! For god's sake. Dr. Hyden from the neighboring pack brought me the information of Lily. Thank godness, she is alive! But she won't come back to the pack that has tortured her for years. "Son, I am sorry for what happened between you and Lily. But you need to move on." My mother comforted me,"Maybe it's a good idea to have another woman to be by your side." I know what she meant. "Mom, I couldn't forget Lily. Please stop this. I was so wrong to her." Thinking back how I bullied her and punished her by sleeping with othe women, my heart ached. "Actually, I have a question for you." Suddenly, I became suspicious of why my mother was so keen on my moving on. "Did you know how Stephanie really die?" An unprecedented terror appeared on her face.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	830	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&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/t39.35426-6/453092050_992953175657324_6047804935389105535_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BA6ZPfKFFnAQ7kNvgEZpkMR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwdNlNFNGW-gJZYCq6YXMic&oh=00_AYC4cJMe4fKJR0gWqi23RUgS9zWLfbPU5w6hvh_wpQBnGw&oe=672FB5A7	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,281,582	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 01:28	active	1685	Check Eligibility 👉	If you are reading this, congrats! Complete a short survey to apply 🎁✅	APPLY_NOW	https://harmonyhubs.site/tinu-ino	Loyalty Program	https://www.facebook.com/61567384708942/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Apply now	harmonyhubs.site	VIDEO		https://harmonyhubs.site/tinu-ino	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465815141_1077192590277544_2200057130807528499_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BbT8PPUTEfIQ7kNvgG3NYMg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5InUU0H2Xg3-Q2BtOezJ89&oh=00_AYDVdAlYHhhk7q99-cMhxh6-B9Q_Yxq7MBiQc9bKtS601w&oe=672F8A0A	PERSON_PROFILE	Loyalty Program	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,282,040	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2282004}'	No	2024-11-05 01:40	active	1687	best seller	Shine bright with our beautiful jewelry! 💃 ✅Any order 10% off and more promotions enjoy now. Learn more:http://italojewelry.io/Cwo 🎁Free shipping & Easy return🎁	SHOP_NOW	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.	Italo Jeweler	https://www.facebook.com/italojeweler/	19,986	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	www.italojewelry.com	VIDEO	✅Easy Return & One Year Warranty	https://www.italojewelry.com/?utm_source=facebook.com&utm_medium=fb-1130-02&utm_campaign=1211-17	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457751076_3678900255657786_4309138088448795781_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3X3etbi92dsQ7kNvgHTtEGa&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A07pMSZuUnPDDiHhrDBskpY&oh=00_AYCM_L7Pw-GMZ6m3SE1cvHZpvgCX4E6uSPDXi6Vz4wT9UA&oe=672FA7FA	PERSON_PROFILE	Italo Jeweler	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,283,246	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2282542}'	No	2024-11-05 01:43	active	1687	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	830	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&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/t39.35426-6/453165435_831002652074071_8831572940164291141_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dSfZgP9CJZgQ7kNvgHRf6Vn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A11TXTwI0rRqjQsF7E2UhlJ&oh=00_AYA-9xqL6rn4iWwjQV-IGF73PpL_relMS8qxL6lfZurXvA&oe=672F8634	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,286,578	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-11-05 02:09	active	1686	Book a tour today	Book a same-day tour with Redfin agent Kelly Primerano before the home you love is gone.	CONTACT_US	https://www.redfin.com/WA/Vancouver/1201-NE-89th-A	Redfin	https://www.facebook.com/redfin/	468,491	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact us	redfin.com	IMAGE	Your perfect home is waiting	https://www.redfin.com/WA/Vancouver/1201-NE-89th-Ave-98664/home/14673083	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465786608_529556536658544_5745746839055616401_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=piQravE_lTwQ7kNvgFsHRp9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoJE6lCP4IawblI4OKTOymr&oh=00_AYCpYtbH2-eL-0R6C0Eh9FAVyFOA-dXEnHrDn4L9yi5RTw&oe=672F89C6	PERSON_PROFILE	Redfin	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,285,357	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2284774}'	Yes	2024-11-05 02:04	active	1688	😍Read the next chapters👉	It’s not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owen’s 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, it’s been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” Owen’s words gave me icy chills. “How could he say that?!” 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 couldn’t believe what I heard… “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I couldn’t 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 Owen’s 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 family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldn’t believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didn’t know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? He’s 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. “Don’t be scared, Noah.” “I’ll protect you.” “I’m willing to take responsibility.” “Noah, I love you.” 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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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=zhvkNswOPTwQ7kNvgFisvQ8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtBOOPopd9oKXJZopUNjvsa&oh=00_AYB4sAMz4uHwuot6jG_GXZXG-SRzNkWGi7pXom1l1Ij45w&oe=672F996D	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,281,223	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2280358}'	No	2024-11-05 01:27	active	1685		Giveaway Time 🎉 We’re happy to announce another chance to win a $100 gift card to Vine & Oak! Here’s how you can enter for a taste of our delicious offerings: 1. Follow Us! 2. Like & Share This Post! 3. Tag 3 Friends Below! (Each tag counts as an extra entry!) Don’t miss out on the opportunity to enjoy a dining experience on us! This giveaway ends on November 11th, good luck! 🍷🥗 📍 100 S Ave E, Cranford, NJ 07016 #VineAndOak #Giveaway #NJFoodie #DiningExperience #NJEats			Vine and Oak Tavern	https://www.facebook.com/vineandoaktavern/	2,501	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465644552_1220796812522128_15874984482095680_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=615rvVnl2gYQ7kNvgEyAEOR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AoOPWufBYk3bk6QsZBibMth&oh=00_AYCgI1tOENNqngQVsUbrd4Bmcs243RKkaPXipnlweGgjxA&oe=672F8933	PERSON_PROFILE	Vine and Oak Tavern	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,285,407	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2284904}'	Yes	2024-11-05 02:04	active	1688	😍Read the next chapters👉	Two years of marriage, and I'd never set foot in my husband Elijah's office. Today was the first time I went to his company. After all this time, why was I suddenly entrusted to deliver these important documents? Could it be possible that they’re finally learning to accept me? Taking a deep breath, I gently placed my hand on my stomach. The emptiness from losing my baby lingered, even though it had been a long time since that accident. I still felt lost and fragile, wishing for solace that never came. I missed my husband's presence, longing for a comforting word or touch. But he and his family remained distant and uninvolved, leaving me to recover on my own. Now, I was about to step into Elijah’s world — his beloved company. My heart skipped a beat as I entered Elijah's large, elegant office. The room was tastefully decorated, with rich mahogany furniture and a large sign that said Sinclair Realty Group. But what made me stop in my tracks was the sight of my husband huddled with an attractive blonde over some papers. Their shoulders were touching, their cheeks almost brushing against each other. What is going on? I thought in alarm. Suddenly, the woman whispered something in Elijah’s ear while she gently laid her perfectly manicured hands on his arm. My heart jumped. I heard a loud thud on the floor and realized I’d dropped the folder I was holding. They both looked up, startled. And that’s when my gaze locked with that of the woman. I felt a shudder creeping through my skin. Serena Foster! She used to be a classmate of ours at Fairview University. She also happened to be Elijah’s ex-girlfriend. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. So this is why my evil mother-in-law asked me to deliver this document! Morgana had probably known that Serena was here now. My husband rose from his chair, abruptly pulling away from Serena who was throwing me daggers with her eyes. “You remember Serena, right? She works here now.” I nodded, my heart leaping into my throat and my thoughts raging in a storm. They’re just colleagues, nothing else, I thought, but not with full conviction. Elijah wouldn’t cheat on me, would he? All this time, I’d remained hopeful that he could still fall in love with me. But now, with Serena in the picture, time might just be running out for us. “So why are you here?” Elijah asked, a frown creasing his brow. “Your mom asked me to deliver this,” I explained, hastily picking up the folder and handing it to him. Then narrowing my eyes at Serena, I waited for him to explain why they were working closely, or to at least introduce me as his wife. But much to my dismay, he didn’t. It felt as though my heart was being squeezed tightly, as it dawned on me that he’d never really introduced me to anyone as his wife. Ever. “Sophia, you look shaken up. Didn’t you know Elijah hired me to work here?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Apparently, we make a great team. Funny, I don’t recall seeing you here before.” She was purposely rubbing it in my face, and I wanted to slap that smile away from her face. She then added, “Oh, right, you don’t know anything about business. You might just mess things up.” “I take care of our home,” I said bitterly, looking down on the floor for a bit. I felt belittled, and my husband couldn’t even defend me. Serena looked at me with disbelief and laughed. Just then, Elijah said, “Next time, Sophia, just contact me and I’ll have my assistant come over.” "Fine," I murmured, my voice barely audible, wishing the ground would swallow me up. The weight of hurt and embarrassment pressed down on me, crushing my spirit. My heart thudded as I blinked back tears. He doesn't want me here. Suddenly, Elijah’s secretary came in. “Alice, please prepare coffee for the ladies,” he instructed. “Just black for Serena. No sugar.” Serena’s eyes lit up. “Hey, you remembered!” she exclaimed, obviously delighted. Elijah nodded at her. “Of course.” I watched the exchange with a sinking feeling in my heart. Serena gave me a smug look as if she was reveling in some secret victory. I couldn’t help but feel more depressed. Here was my husband, effortlessly remembering Serena's coffee preferences, yet he couldn't recall something as simple as my allergy to caffeine. “Join us, Sophia,” Serena invited with a devilish grin. “Just like how we used to hang out together in college.” I struggled to contain my emotions, not wanting to break down in front of them. “I have to go,” I managed to say, my voice slightly cracking. “I’ll see you at home.” Elijah’s expression remained unchanged, and my heart felt heavy with the realization of how little I meant to him. The way he treated me had only gotten worse after losing my baby. What did you expect? a small voice hissed in my head. He only married you because he got you to have a baby. You’re the one who keeps hoping he’ll eventually fall for you. As his assistant Connor Hayes drove me home, I thought about how my husband’s mother Morgana had begun ignoring me after I lost the baby. Then one day, she started talking to me again, only to treat me like a housemaid. I fought back tears as the heaviness in my heart escalated. My marriage was falling apart so fast that I couldn’t seem to catch up. When we pulled up the spacious driveway of the Sinclair mansion, a feeling of dread and loneliness engulfed me. I’m back in this prison. Trapped. Helpless. I want to escape this prison! I screamed in my head, glad that Morgana was nowhere to be found. Yet. Running to my room and throwing myself on my bed, sobs wracked my body. And as I cried my eyes out, I felt something with my hand that made me sit up. A small portion of a brown envelope was peeking from under the pillow. My heart tightened, and more tears filled my eyes. I knew exactly what it contained — the papers I’d prepared before. I pulled them out and stared at the title that blurred before my teary eyes. It read: Divorce Agreement. CHAPTER 2 The divorce agreement was written after I accidentally lost my baby. During that time, I couldn’t even look at Elijah’s face without thinking about our baby. The pain was unbearable, so I believed divorce was my salvation. Looking back, preparing the divorce agreement was not a mistake, now that leaving was my only option. My hands shook as I held the papers in my hand. I could hear Morgana’s voice outside. “Sophia!” she called in a sharp tone. She probably heard me come in and was now wondering where I was. Quickly, I hid the divorce agreement and washed my face in the bathroom. That’s when the door swung open. I dried my face with a towel and looked at my mother-in-law. She responded with a cold gaze. She immediately instructed me to do the housework, her tone full of disdain. As I began my chores, she stood there taunting me. “Elijah told me not to ask you to deliver things in the future,” she said with a scoff. “You can’t even be relied on for such a simple task.” Her words cut deep. “When you first came to our house carrying a baby in your belly, it was okay that you couldn't do anything,” she continued. “Then you had lost your baby and you had to spend months recovering and regaining your health. Now you can't even deliver a document, so what's the meaning for Elijah of having you as a wife?" Her words were like daggers, each one piercing my heart. And then, in a cruel twist, she added, “My son would be better off with Serena. She's prettier, smarter, and she even managed to land a job at his company! Unlike you... You can't even perform simple housework that well.” Sure enough, she already knew that Serena worked at Elijah's company. She asked me to deliver the papers today just to make a fool of me. The room felt suffocating, the burden of her words pressing down on me. I felt utterly alone, realizing that no one had ever been on my side. I clenched my fists, struggling against the wave of tears threatening to spill. Sweeping the floor became a mechanical task, a facade to hide my turmoil. The repeated humiliations and frustrations drained me of the energy to fight back or explain myself yet again. I don’t deserve this, I thought sourly. It’s time for me to escape, to save myself. With bitter tears streaming down my cheeks, I rushed to my room and grabbed the papers I’d hidden. Staring at me from the front page were the words: Divorce Agreement. I’ve had enough. Flashbacks of how Elijah and Morgana had been treating me filled my mind. Despite my efforts to be the dutiful wife and daughter-in-law, I’d always seemed invisible to them. I’ve been obedient, helpful, and hardworking… But no one cares. Not even my own husband. I’m nothing to him. He doesn’t love me and he never learned to. That’s the most painful of all. My heart tightened. His indifference cut deeper than any overt cruelty could. And now, with Serena back in the picture, their attention gravitated toward her. I felt more isolated than ever. This is the last straw! I must get out of here, or I’ll lose my sanity! That evening, I hadn’t realized I’d already fallen asleep when I heard the bedroom door open. Something made a loud, clattering noise. I quickly sat up and saw Elijah staggering toward me. He mumbled something about a dinner party as he plopped on the bed and started sliding his fingers down my bare arm. I hastily moved backward, giving him a look of disbelief. He was obviously drunk. If he wasn’t, he would have just ignored me and gone straight to bed. “Hey, playing hard to get, aren’t you?” he said in a slurred manner, his bloodshot eyes becoming more intense. Then without warning, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I didn’t have time to react, though, because he suddenly started unbuttoning my oversized nightshirt. “When did Serena start working at your company?” I asked him coldly. He shrugged, but didn’t stop what he was doing. “Not sure. Probably recruited by HR.” His lips traveled down and then his tongue followed. Finally, the last button on my sleep pajama surrendered. “Serena is such a talented addition to our team,” he remarked with admiration. As I reminisced about the scene I witnessed at the company, my husband and his ex-girlfriend Serena were closely nestled together, sharing laughter and conversation. But I couldn't muster the courage to confront her and ask her to keep her distance from him. Jealousy and pain gripped my chest. I couldn’t believe he was saying all this while undressing me! I knew then that he still had feelings for her. “You know,” he said, oblivious to my disappointment, “she's even outperforming many of the senior colleagues who've been with the company for years.” Even as we locked eyes, there was something in his gaze—a kind of infatuation—that he never seemed to exhibit when it came to me. He’s probably picturing me as her! I thought with disgust. I was so disappointed in him, and didn’t want him anywhere near me. But when I pulled away, he threw me an irritated look. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, taken aback that I was saying no to his advances unlike before. I didn’t answer. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve been down in the dumps for months now! I thought you’d snap out of it, but you’ve only gotten worse. It’s depressing to even see you.” I cringed at his words, the searing pain crushing my heart. He couldn’t even see how my spirit was being shattered because of him. “Maybe it’s because of the baby we lost…” he mused. Sliding his fingers down the surface of my cheek and then my neck, he added in a drunken slur, “Why don’t we just make another baby?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I knew that whenever he was drunk, he spoke without inhibitions. He was often brutally honest in this state. Hence, he meant every word and that only showed how much he didn’t understand me or the problem we had in this marriage. My whole body was shaking as the misery and fury I’ve been keeping inside rose to the surface. He doesn’t get it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. I was totally pissed off. And that’s when I blurted it out. “I want to divorce you.” CHAPTER 3 I could sense his mind reeling from the unexpected news. He opened his mouth as if to say something. I expected him to respond, to react, to ask questions. Anything at all! But he never said anything. My heart thumped hard as we gazed at one another — strangers who’d been forced to live together. I had tried so hard to make this marriage work even after we had lost the baby. But it takes two to succeed at this, I realized. “I want a divorce,” I repeated, keeping my voice steady. “I’m serious.” Slowly he nodded. “Yes, sure,” he answered before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. My heart felt like it was about to explode. I pulled my open shirt around me, desperately covering myself up, as I coiled into a fetal position with my head throbbing. A tear dropped down my cheek, and I quickly brushed it away. This is it. I’m going to be free. And yet somehow, I didn’t feel that ecstatic. His reaction only confirmed my worst suspicions. Now I know the truth — he never loved me at all. He’s not even upset about the divorce! I sighed. It’s time for me to move on. The next day, after eating breakfast on my own, I mustered up all my courage and called Elijah to the study. “We should sign this,” I said without any emotion, showing him the divorce papers. He sat on the sofa across from me, looking at me quietly. His gaze always made me feel a little nervous, but today was different. I signed the papers and urged him to do the same. “Elijah, please,” I whispered, making sure my voice wouldn’t break. “Let's end this.” His face contorted in a horrible expression as he ruthlessly grabbed the agreement from me. But he didn’t sign immediately. He took a long time going over each page while I waited impatiently. Then his phone suddenly rang. I saw it light up with Serena’s name, making my heart tighten. I can’t believe this woman’s timing! But Elijah only glanced at it before returning to reviewing the papers. Perhaps he didn’t want to answer it because I was in the room with him. A myriad of emotions threatened to engulf me. I stood up and positioned myself in front of him with my arms crossed against my heart. “Why don’t you just hurry up and sign those so you can get going? Someone might be waiting for you in the office.” He glanced at me warily, then took out his pen and signed everything. With an angry grunt, he threw the papers down on the sofa and stormed out of the room. Watching him go, I was filled with overwhelming feelings — relief, frustration, anger, sadness. “I’m finally free,” I murmured to myself incredulously. While I was packing my bags in the bedroom, Morgana suddenly charged inside. In her usual bossy voice, she said, “The morning’s almost over, Sophia! Go do the laundry now.” With a sarcastic huff, I turned around to face her. “Sorry, but Elijah and I just signed a divorce agreement. I will no longer do any housework for you.” Her face reddened in anger. I could almost see steam coming out of her ears as she crossed her arms on her pit and scolded me angrily. "You married into our family for two years, no children, and now you want a divorce," she spat out bitterly. I scoffed, not bothering to respond. It doesn’t matter anymore. I can finally ignore her completely! But then, almost as quickly as her anger had surfaced, her mood changed. “You know what? It's actually quite nice,” she said, her tone almost mocking. “Elijah can finally marry someone better, like Serina. Every single day that I see you hanging your head in despair, it just makes my blood boil. Anyone would make a better wife than you!” Her words infuriated me. I wanted to slap away that haughty look on her face, but it would just be a waste of energy. I’m done here. I’m done with all this. Suddenly, memories flooded back of a time when Morgana had shown kindness, especially during my pregnancy with her grandchild. She had been caring and considerate. However, after I lost my baby, her demeanor changed drastically. She began treating me like a mere servant rather than a member of the family. I could never understand why she became so hostile all of a sudden. Sometimes I wondered if it had more to do with herself than with me. That afternoon, I went home to where I grew up. As I settled in, I felt relieved that at least I had a place I could call my own. “Luckily I hadn’t sold it,” I muttered, looking around the living room and remembering my adoptive father. This house is the only connection I have left with him. Night swept in quickly. I was worn out and exhausted. Climbing onto my old bed, I was ready to relax when I received a message from my best friend Kayla. It showed a secretly taken photo of Elijah and Serena in a club, sitting intimately close and laughing together. A chill ran down my spine as I read the angry message from Kayla: That Elijah! You have no idea what I saw! Elijah was out partying and flirting with that Serena, which he never did with you! My heart sank, anger and sadness clouded my mind as I realized he was indeed getting back together with Serena and flaunting her around. Forcing back my tears, I told Kayla: It’s over between me and Elijah. We were divorced. CHAPTER 4 “Aaarrgghh! I so hate that guy for doing this to you!” Kayla hissed. “If I had known he’d treat you like that, I wouldn’t have allowed you to even come near him during our grad celebration! And I wouldn’t have kept pushing you to hook up with him, no matter how gorgeous he was!” Being the daughter of Raven Media’s renowned CEO, Kayla Davis always hung out with high society. She saw Elijah a lot at parties since they belonged to the same circle. We also all happened to attend Fairview University where Kayla and I had majored in Interior Design. Hence, she not only knew Elijah but Serena too. “You should have seen them at the party last night!” she cried out, causing some people to give us a dirty look. Lowering her voice, she leaned forward with a repulsed look. “They didn’t even care that I was there! They were just… Aaahhh! I really couldn’t take it, so I went over there and gave them a piece of my mind. I told them they ought to be ashamed of themselves!” “Oh, wow,” I uttered in disbelief. “But it’s over now, Kayla. I’m doing my best to move on.” Kayla was still fuming. But then, she eventually smiled and leaned over to squeeze my hands. “I’m always here for you, Sophia. You know that.” “Thanks so much. I’m really grateful to have someone who really cares about me,” I responded with a fluttering heart. “Well, you’ve always had my back even in high school. So now it’s my turn to return the favor.” Kayla and I became best friends during our freshman year in high school. We came to know each other well when we first worked on an art project together. We’d hit it off at once, and the rest was history. “Anyway, I can see that Elijah never loved you and he doesn’t deserve you, Sophia,” she went on. “So what are you planning now?” “Well, I’ve been giving it some thought…” I began, suddenly feeling excited for the future. “A few weeks ago, I applied for this postgraduate program at Goldwell Institute of Art in France—” “You did not!” she interrupted me, her lips turning up into a huge grin. Suddenly, she jumped up from her seat and gave me a hug. “This will surely be your big break!” I laughed. “I haven’t been accepted yet, you know.” “Oh, but you will be!” Kayla’s enthusiasm was so contagious that I could already picture myself studying there, exploring France, and enjoying myself. But then, my mood suddenly changed again when I heard my phone ringing and saw Elijah’s name popping up on the screen. I froze up. Kayla’s eyes narrowed when she saw it too. “Go ahead and answer it. See what he has to say.” As soon as I accepted the call, I heard Elijah’s sharp tone of voice on the other end. “You filed for our divorce, and now your family wants cash from me?! Unbelievable!” “Wait, what do you mean?” “You know I’m busy in the office, then here comes your brother with another excuse for needing financial help! He had the nerve to barge into the conference room and disrupt our meeting!” Elijah railed angrily. I felt mortified and helpless. “I’ll talk to Troy.” “Good. Make sure he doesn’t come back again ever.” Then he hung up. I was so shocked that I couldn’t speak for a while. My family's constant demands for cash had reached a tipping point. No matter how many times I tried to set boundaries, they continued to use me and interrupt Elijah. It felt like I had no control over the situation, and it was greatly upsetting. “Sorry I have to go now, Kayla,” I said, bravely deciding to act immediately. She nodded in understanding and we said goodbye. I immediately rushed to the house where my adoptive mother and brother had moved to after my adoptive father Tom Bennett passed away. He’d left me the original house where he’d taken care of me like his real own child. But the rest of the inheritance had been taken by his wife and son. They’d bought a bigger house and I never heard from them again. Not until they learned of my marrying a wealthy man in the famous Sinclair clan. Brenda was certainly not pleased to hear what I had to say. “What did you say?! You divorced Elijah, the billionaire CEO of Sinclair Realty Group?!! Are you out of your mind?!!” Behind her, my brother Troy looked as if he wanted to punch the wall. “It was never going to work out,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. “Just please stop bothering him. We’ve cut our ties. You can’t ask for anything from him anymore.” “Oh, man!” Troy exclaimed with frustration. Two years ago, after I married Elijah, Brenda and Troy came back and pretended like we were a tight-knit family. At first, Elijah was kind and understanding of their needs. But when he noticed how abusive they had become, always asking for financial support, he became impatient and angry. One time, they even borrowed cash in my name and never paid it back. It had become one of the reasons why Morgana was so angry with me. “Did you fight? Maybe you can still fix it!” Brenda said, looking desperate. Troy scoffed. “When I went to his office, I saw him talking to this beautiful, sexy blonde. I’m guessing there’s a third party involved! People who don’t know better would think that woman is his wife!” CHAPTER 5 My heart felt like it would explode any time now. “It doesn’t matter,” I eventually said to Troy. “It’s none of my business now. I don’t care what he does with that woman or with whomever.” Then staring hard at him and my foster mother, I said sharply, “We’re definitely not getting back together, so the two of you should just stop going to him for anything! Just stop!” “But…” Brenda began to protest. I raised my hand to stop her. “Elijah and I are over. Besides, I’ll soon move to France and study there. And since you only contacted me again because of Elijah’s wealth, then now you won’t have any more need for me, right?” They were both shocked at my words because I had never spoken like that in the past. But it was time for me to step up and put myself first for once. “All thing that you swindled out of my ex-husband’s pocket, consider it as your payment for raising me,” I went on in a steady voice. “We don’t have to see or talk to each other ever again.” On the way home, I began to feel a migraine coming. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples as I sat in the back seat of a cab. All of this drama’s taking a toll on me, I guess. But as I neared the house, I felt increasingly queasy and unwell. I realized my health hadn’t fully recovered since the loss. “Could you please take me to the hospital?” I asked the driver, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising nausea. He nodded and quickly changed course, navigating toward the nearest medical facility. The ride felt endless, each bump in the road exacerbating my discomfort. By the time we arrived, I could barely contain the churning in my stomach. I burst through the hospital doors, a wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm me. My vision blurred, and I stumbled forward, nearly colliding with a figure in front of me. Before I could hit the ground, strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me. Gasping for breath, I looked up and found myself staring into the concerned eyes of a very handsome and familiar-looking man. “Are you okay? You look like you're about to faint,” he said, his brows furrowed with worry. With our eyes locked on each other, before I could even reply, a look of recognition crossed his features. “Oh, wait! It’s you. Sophia Bennett from Green Valley High, right?” I was surprised, looking at him closely. His features reminded me of someone I knew a long way back. “Uh, Daniel?” I eventually said, recalling his name. We had gone to the same high school, but he was a year older than me. “Yes, yes. Wait, let me bring you to our family doctor. You look really pale.” I felt too sick to pretend I was fine, so I just let him lead me through the corridor and into one of the clinics. He quickly introduced me to the doctor whom he seemed to know well. As the doctor greeted me, concern etched across his face, I explained how I'd been feeling. He listened attentively, nodding as I spoke. After a brief discussion, he led me to an examination room, asking Daniel to wait outside. The examination was thorough, and I appreciated the doctor's calming demeanor. Afterward, he suggested some basic tests to determine the cause of my symptoms. “How are you feeling now?” Daniel asked kindly once I sat down beside him in the waiting area. “A little better, but still kinda dizzy,” I answered honestly. “Thanks for the assistance, but it’s okay if you have somewhere to be. You’ve already done too much for me.” “Oh, it’s okay,” he said with a smile. “Unless you don’t want me here.” “It’s nothing like that, of course!” I quickly replied. “Thanks for accompanying me. It feels good to have someone to talk to while I’m here.” “Well, I’m all ears. People say I’m a good listener.” I beamed at him, his presence a comforting anchor in the sterile hospital environment. Chuckling, I said, “I don’t really know you, Daniel…” “You know my name. That’s a start.” His grin seemed to brighten up the surroundings, and I just felt immediately comfortable with him. I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and trust wash over me. We hadn't been close in high school, but something about his calm demeanor and genuine concern made me want to open up. “I remember… Daniel Pierce…” I began, smiling. I could feel my headache and nausea diminishing. “High school jock, but a bit geeky and always at the top of the class.” He laughed. “You’ve got a good memory, Sophia Bennett. I remember you too — the smart, quiet, very talented artist whom all the boys noticed but never had the nerve to approach.” I laughed too at his astonishing description of me. “You’re joking!” “No, it’s true… Really! I’m sure you’ve managed to get yourself a very good-looking husband. Let me guess, a CEO?” He was kidding, but hitting close to home made me frown as I remembered Elijah. “Good-looking, yes. CEO, yes. But husband? Not anymore.” “Oh.” His expression changed immediately. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “You know, it's been a rough few months,” I began tentatively, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “I'm actually going through a divorce, and my family... they keep asking for cash from my ex-husband, which just complicates things even more.” Daniel's expression shifted to one of empathy, and he nodded, encouraging me to continue. “And then I lost my baby...It's been tough, physically and emotionally. I just feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, you know?” He nodded in understanding. “I’m so sorry to hear all that, Sophia. But you seem like a really strong woman. I’m sure you can get back on your feet in no time. Usually, it helps to be in a change of environment. Have you considered that?” “Yeah, starting anew in a foreign land,” I answered, thinking about my application in France. “Hmm… sounds like a pretty bold move," Daniel remarked, his eyes reflecting admiration and amusement at the same time. “It takes courage to make such a big change.” I smiled weakly. “Actually, I've applied for graduate studies in France. It's something I've always wanted to do.” Daniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? That's incredible! I recently got accepted at the Goldwell Business School in Paris…” My jaw dropped. “What? I’m planning to go to the Goldwell Institute of Art!” He looked at me with astonishment. “What are the odds, huh? Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other. Those institutions share practically the same campus.” I couldn't believe the coincidence, though I was still feeling down. “That’s really… something else.” “Surely you’ll get in. Where do you plan to stay in Paris?” “The Latin Quarter, of course. I’m looking at an apartment there, since it’s where most students live.” Daniel chuckled. “And it looks like we’ll be neighbors too. I think we were meant to cross paths again right now, right here.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Who knows? Maybe we’re destined to explore France together! When you book your plane ticket, let me know. Let’s fly together. I mean, if that’s alright with you?” His offer warmed my heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, Daniel…” Suddenly, I heard my name being called by the assistant, motioning for me to come back into the clinic. “Miss Sophia Bennett?” she informed me. “Your test results are here.” CHAPTER 6 Daniel followed me into the doctor's office, providing support. The doctor smiled warmly at us, his expression giving nothing away. “Well, Sophia,” he began, his tone measured, “the results are in. Congratulations to you both.” I felt a rush of confusion and disbelief. “You’re going to be parents. Congratulations!” the doctor added. I’m… pregnant?! How could that be? My last baby had left me only months ago. Even I just signed divorce papers with Elijah, and now I'm carrying his child? The room spun around me as embarrassment flooded my cheeks. Probably because he was mistaken for the baby's father, Daniel looked surprised but did not contradict the doctor. “Other than that, you’re perfectly healthy, Sophia,” the doctor assured me. He went on to discuss some things with Daniel, but I hardly heard them talking. My heart pounded crazily, and my mind felt fuzzy. Once again, I felt like I was caught up in a weird dream. None of it was real. Daniel was quiet as we left the hospital. I didn’t know what to say either. “Let me drive you home, Sophia,” he offered once we were outside. His eyes were filled with concern for me. I was just too tired and confused to say no, so I simply nodded. He did not ask any questions, and I was glad. What am I going to do? I asked myself in silence while in the car, feeling the panic rising in my throat. This is the worst timing ever. Elijah and I just got divorced, and I’m supposed to have a whole new life ahead of me. Anxiety took over me. Everything was about to change again. If I have this baby, it won’t have a father, I thought bitterly. And how can I take care of it on my own while living in a different country where I don’t have anyone to help me? My hand moved toward my tummy. There was no baby bump yet, but knowing that there was a little one growing inside gave me chills. Suddenly, I remembered how painful it had been to lose my baby before. This is a blessing, a second chance for me to become a mother. Would I want to risk losing another baby? Slowly I began to calm down. I took deep breaths until my head began to clear. This is a miracle, I told myself. I should be grateful. As I rubbed my belly, I spoke in my mind. I’m so sorry, baby. It’s just all too sudden. But I know that I’m going to take care of you and love you with all my heart. Days flew by, bringing a welcomed calm without Elijah, Brenda, and Troy in the picture. However, internally, I remained in turmoil. Then, the news I had been eagerly awaiting arrived—I had been accepted into my dream university to study art and design once more! Despite the uncertainty of juggling studies with a baby, I couldn't let this opportunity slip away. In just a week’s time, I found myself waving goodbye to Kayla at the airport. “Call me when you get there!” she said, her eyes gleaming with tears. It was the first time we would be apart for a long time, and we were like sisters. As I settled into my seat on the airplane, bound for Paris, excitement and nervousness mingled within me. The prospect of starting a new life in a different country threatened to overwhelm my senses. The plane began its ascent, lifting off the ground. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Beside me, Daniel sensed my unease and reached over, gently squeezing my hand. “Everything will be okay,” he reassured me. “I'm here. We'll do this together.” His words were a comforting balm to my anxious soul, and I found great comfort in his presence. As we chatted throughout the plane ride, ate together, fell asleep, and then chatted some more, I began to relax and come to terms with the situation. I can do this, I thought with more confidence. Then touching my tummy, I silently whispered, You’re my lucky charm, my baby. By the time we landed safely, Daniel and I were like old buddies. I was truly grateful that he was with me. As the cab wound through Paris, iconic landmarks flashed past—the Eiffel Tower dominating the skyline, the majestic Louvre in the distance, and quaint streets bustling with cafes and shops. Despite my worries, the beauty of the city had me momentarily elated, filling me with a sense of excitement and wonder. Beside me, Daniel seemed entranced, his eyes wide with wonder. Soon, we were unloading my bags at my new apartment. It was semi-furnished, and I was immediately drawn to the light blue walls and the inviting white sofa. But my favorite part of all was the large window that gave me a fantastic view of the busy city street below. This was it—the start of my new life in Paris. I turned to Daniel, who was looking around the apartment with a satisfied smile. “Looks like you've got yourself a nice little place here,” he remarked, glancing back at me. "Yeah, I think I'm going to like it here," I replied. Daniel chuckled. “Just remember to take it easy, okay? You've had a long journey.” I rolled my eyes. “I'm fine, Daniel. I'm not going to keel over from exhaustion.” He raised an eyebrow, and then grinned. “I'm just saying, you’ll be too heavy for me to carry if you collapse!” I threw the throw pillow at him jokingly. “Oh, shut up.” We both laughed. He added, “You need to get some beauty sleep, Sophia. I'm sure you'll want to look your best when you meet your new classmates.” “Oh, so now you're concerned about my appearance?” Daniel grinned. “Hey, a little rest never hurt anyone. And who knows, maybe you'll meet a cute French guy who'll sweep you off your feet.” I playfully nudged him. “I think I'll pass on that, thank you very much. I'm here to focus on my studies, not my love life.” He appeared pleased with that statement. “Fair enough,” he answered with a teasing smile. “But you never know what could happen. Paris is the city of love, after all.” I felt a little flutter in my heart, wondering if I could learn to look at him as more than a friend. Perhaps it's more accurate to say he's akin to a brother rather than just a friend. The assistance he's provided far exceeds anything I've received from Elijah in years. Sighing, I went over to my bags. “Come on, just help me unpack already so we can check out your apartment next.” As we were unpacking, my phone rang. I figured it was Kayla so I asked Daniel to answer it, showing him that my hands were full at the moment. “Hello?” I heard Daniel say. He put the call on speaker mode. “Who the hell is this? Where's Sophia?” a very familiar male voice demanded, his tone aggressive and impatient. My heart felt like it had just plummeted to the ground. I felt my whole body trembling when Daniel handed the phone to me. I didn't have to hold the phone to my ear to hear Elijah's furious growling, "Sophia, YOU CAN'T just walk away like this! Where the hell are you now?! Without my permission, you are not allowed to go anywh...." I pressed the button to end the call without hearing his entire words, calming my quivering heart with a big and deep breath. It's true that Elijah has never been very considerate or tender with me, but he hasn't really stepped on me rudely either. It's just that lately, he's been indifferent to me. Anyway, he'd never been as emotionally cranky as he was now. Did my leaving make him care? No, don't be silly, Sophia, he can be with Serena again now. He's free. How do you expect that he would care about you, a woman he had never loved? Daniel noticed my paradoxical anxiety. "Who is he?" Daniel inquired. But I could see in his eyes that he clearly knew the answer to that question. I sighed, "My husband. No, ex-husband."	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=12887&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/t39.35426-6/457564230_551374980564117_5159278282504693424_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LNNxbF5sKJIQ7kNvgEWhYVD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtBOOPopd9oKXJZopUNjvsa&oh=00_AYB-Db5cGO5MsVYCOde_CjRRUKh34eT3BInIZY4pWqyoHQ&oe=672FBA8F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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