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2,306,458	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2308668}'	No	2024-11-05 06:39	active	1700	😍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.	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2,302,361	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697		Zero-waste vegan morning soap for sensitive skin 😌🍃 Giveaway event Step 1 Provide us an email Step 2 We will give you a coupon Step 3 Purchase with free and ship! Step 4 Write a Review Let us know your email with DM Only USA, Dew soap (1pcs) item Shop by Mix-match.shop ↓ https://bit.ly/3NMuMe6 #Dewsoap #심으뜸 #Biodergradable #morningsoap #Aminoacid #hypoallergenic #zarowaste #facialsoap #earthfriendly #plasticfree #noresidual #bestfacesoap #sensitiveskin #soap #facesoap #vegan	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/mix.match.shop_	Mix-match.shop	https://www.facebook.com/61567153360989/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/mix.match.shop_	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465734050_541143405200580_5205941775761293824_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Sh3soKlHZiYQ7kNvgH5MC0n&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AAaClPRXM8uGkzc0dCXbkRg&oh=00_AYARhnk0SjNd7HmyrX_71atlAcDJtFx8b7PL7dHFI0m7Sw&oe=672FC549	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Mix-match.shop	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,309,237	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 06:40	active	1700	Read next chapter👉	As a junior assistant, she slept with the company's CEO. She was sure she would lose her job, but instead, her boss proposed to her: "Marry me!" ===== "Bethany, you should sleep with a handsome guy while you're still young, it's amazing! I highly recommend dabbling in something dirty while you're at it." Bethany Holt, away on a business trip and having had a little wine, lay in her hotel bed, on the verge of drifting off to sleep. However, as soon as she closed her eyes, the words of her best friend, Aimee Bates, replayed in her mind. In a month, she would turn twenty-six-and in all her years on this earth, she never had a boyfriend. She hadn't even kissed a man yet. It wasn't the first time Aimee had suggested it, but today, Bethany suddenly felt an inexplicable desire awakening inside of her. Bethany sat up in bed as this strange, new feeling grew unbearable. Subconsciously, she grabbed her phone. Having taken out her contact lenses, her vision was blurred and she couldn't see the screen clearly, but when she saw the familiar surname of her best friend, she tapped on it and sent her a message. "Send me some recommendations. I'm in the mood to watch what you just said." Seconds later, she received a reply. "?" Bethany frowned and, still drunk, joked, "Don't play ignorant! Either send me movies or send me a hot guy. I'm in Room 1501." After hitting send, Bethany waited expectantly for a reply, only to be met with crickets. Just as she was about to get out of bed for some water, the doorbell suddenly rang. She didn't think too much of it and walked right over. After all, Aimee wouldn't actually send a man to her room in the middle of the night, would she? As soon as she opened the door, Bethany went as stiff as a board. "Mr. Bates?" He seemed to have just taken a shower. His short hair was still dripping wet, and he was wearing nothing but a black silk robe. Because of his tall and strong frame, he towered over her and practically blocked the doorway. His handsome face was partially obscured in the darkness, his eyes no longer as indifferent and detached as usual. Instead, he looked like a hungry beast, staring at its prey. "Mr. Bates, what can I do for-" Before she could finish her sentence, she felt a pair of big hands grabbing the back of her head. The next second, she felt his rough lips pressed against hers. Bethany could taste the sickly sweetness of wine on his tongue. Before she could understand what was happening, she was thrown on the bed and the man climbed on top of her. It was obvious that Jonathan Bates was drunk. Otherwise, why would the CEO of Ensson Corporation come to a lowly assistant's hotel room? Bethany's first instinct was to fight back, but all of a sudden, she stopped struggling. It was her first time being with a man. Her alcohol-addled brain started to consider that maybe sleeping with such a handsome, rich, and powerful one would be a good thing. Jonathan wouldn't remember who she was, just like how he didn't remember that they were seat mates in junior high for nearly a year. As a low-level assistant at the company, Bethany rarely crossed paths with their CEO. No one would ever believe that she had slept with him. After mulling over it for a few seconds, she finally plucked up the courage to wrap her arms around his neck in the moonlight. Chapter 2 The Duality Of Jonathan Bates In the wee hours of the morning, Bethany woke up to find the man next to her still fast asleep. He was so close that his steady breath tickled her neck, making it hard for her to lie still. Oh, God! What had she done? She had slept with her boss! Eyes wide as saucers, Bethany held her breath and carefully extricated herself from his arms. Without a moment to lose, she quickly got dressed, packed her things, and ran to the hotel's front desk to check into another room. Wondering what the hell happened last night, she checked her phone and found that the dirty texts she had sent hadn't gone to her best friend, Aimee Bates. No, she had mistakenly texted someone else who had the same surname-Jonathan Bates, her boss and CEO of Ensson Corporation. A few years ago, at a junior high school reunion, the class monitor had created a chat group and asked everyone to add each other as friends. Bethany clearly remembered that it was Jonathan who had added her, but he never messaged her, and vice versa. Bethany ran her fingers through her wild hair in distress, unable to wrap her head around the fact that she had made such a stupid mistake. She checked into her new room and sat down, trying to calm herself down. Then, she decisively took out her phone and left the high school chat group. She changed her social media name from Bethany to Lily and replaced her profile picture with that of a stock photo of a random girl she downloaded from the Internet. Now, Jonathan wouldn't know who she was. She figured it wouldn't be necessary to unfriend Jonathan. And since Room 1501 was booked by the company, there were no traces that could lead to her. After taking these precautions, Bethany finally put her phone aside and went back to sleep. The next thing she knew, her alarm clock was blaring into her ears. Today, she had to go to Glora Company with her manager to discuss additional funding. The net value of the project had plummeted to its limit loss. The other party demanded replenishing, or they would sell the securities assets. In this emergency, the investment department was lucky to use Jonathan's private plane to fly to Degend for business. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, Bethany hurried to the hotel lobby with the documents in hand. Shortly after, Aimee came downstairs, muttering unhappily, "Carson Smith insisted we weren't the replenishing party, but I went to the trust company and checked the contract. His name was clearly on the copy!" "Shh, Carson's coming. Don't let him hear you," Bethany warned. Just then, she noticed a tall man surrounded by a group of people walking out of the elevator. It was Jonathan. He had changed the silk robe he wore last night into a well-tailored black suit. His thick eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his thin lips tightly pursed as he listened to his secretary's report on something. As he walked across the lobby, he didn't even spare a glance at Bethany. Jonathan's cold demeanor was well-known in the business world. His sharp, handsome face was always reserved and arrogant. He didn't talk much, but his mere presence was enough to make the very air around him drop several hundred degrees. Bethany tried her best to recall, but the man in front of her seemed so different from the one who had kissed her so passionately last night. It seemed she might have remembered it all wrong. "Oh, my God, Mr. Bates is so handsome. I would literally die to sleep with him for just one night!" Aimee whispered to Bethany excitedly, failing to notice Bethany's visible discomfort. "We both have the same surname, but why is there such a huge gap between us? Hey, earth to Bethany! Hello?" Aimee touched Bethany's arm, snapping her back to reality. Bethany immediately lowered her head, trying to avoid being seen by Jonathan. But just as he and the group of people were about to reach the exit, he stopped in his tracks and said to his secretary, "Find out who was checked into Room 1501 last night." Hearing those numbers, Bethany felt as if her legs were filled with lead. Her mind went completely blank, and she could only vaguely hear Aimee exclaim, "1501? That's where Bethany slept last night!" Aimee's loud voice drew everyone's attention, including Jonathan's. Fortunately for Bethany, he quickly lost interest and headed for the door as though nothing happened. His entourage followed, and together, they all left the hotel. As soon as they were gone, Aimee poked Bethany with an inquisitive look in her eye. "That was weird, huh? Why would Mr. Bates be interested in your room?" Aimee was puzzled. She had expected something sensational to happen, but unexpectedly, Jonathan left as though the revelation meant nothing to him. Bethany breathed a sigh of relief and replied, "My room has a good view. Maybe he wants to stay there." "Seriously?" "Don't forget he's the CEO!" Aimee shrugged. Bethany's words made sense-since she and Jonathan were from two completely different worlds, nothing could have happened between them. "Do you think a gorgeous yet cold man like Mr. Bates is good in b*d?" she suddenly asked, wriggling her brows at Bethany playfully. Bethany was speechless. Aimee's fantasies were exaggerated, but as for his size... Bethany suddenly realized her mind was drifting off to more inappropriate thoughts. She shook her head, banishing those dirty images to the back of her brain. She blamed Aimee for being a bad influence. Suddenly, Bethany froze. She quickly flipped through the documents in her hand. "Damn it." She may left the project contract in Room 1501 when she hurriedly made her escape...... ...... As a simple assistant, messaging the CEO in the dead of night to request shares of adult films was a bold move. Bethany, unsurprisingly, didn't receive any films. However, the CEO responded that, while he had no films to share, he could offer a live demonstration. After a night filled with passion, Bethany was certain she'd lose her job. But instead, her boss proposed, "Marry me. Please consider it." "Mr. Bates, you're kidding me, right?" What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/58773322-fb_contact-e	Loving reading		0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/58773322-fb_contact-enj95_7-c1-0724-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=791750052879575&rawadid=120213559114220758	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463044580_856180073394029_7520464055080364816_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dlemIs-Uwv8Q7kNvgE0OJ4B&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AIDwj72b8YmA-UrYy-fCPlQ&oh=00_AYBMFhl7no9x-bYcHTooqM-qlJHDjiyp-fgem9Or-hZ6QA&oe=672FED73	REGULAR_PAGE	0		1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,303,831	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-11-05 06:03	active	1698	Kelly is here to help!	Discover the personal touch of BCM's 'kitchen table' customer service! 🏠 💙 Kelly Grondin shares how our team brings insurance discussions right to your home, allowing you to meet your advisor face-to-face and ensuring you feel informed and comfortable. Because at BCM, it’s all about building relationships! #TheFeelingIsMutual	LEARN_MORE	https://bcminsurance.com/our-team/insurance-adviso	BCM Insurance Company	https://www.facebook.com/bcminsurance/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	bcminsurance.com	VIDEO		https://bcminsurance.com/our-team/insurance-advisors/kelly-grondin/?utm_source=Social&utm_medium=Boosted-Kelly&utm_campaign=OfficeVideos	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465791342_1475520016455480_8943907765818684608_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oGtjXrBa3eAQ7kNvgFcYh_r&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1oFjcwSRkPJhiYOGFaA6xy&oh=00_AYDA4rYlKezymxeojsYOmDv91I0AV93z7_vpGF4K6OsGKg&oe=672FEC15	PERSON_PROFILE	0	BCM Insurance Company	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,302,583	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2302581}'	No	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/fosterentertainmentllc	fosterentertainmentllc	https://www.instagram.com/_u/fosterentertainmentllc	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/fosterentertainmentllc	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/362687230_630988292125713_5209714361063749427_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=Efwi2ld22AUQ7kNvgG9bq8M&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYCD3hOCReM3LIogM0g-qJ1X02ETtteYFrQyFv6SzVQSOg&oe=672FE514	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	fosterentertainmentllc	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,307,321	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2307299}'	No	2024-11-05 06:39	active	1700	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	My husband Elijah wanted to do some sweet things with me again, however, he suddenly brought up his ex-girlfriend. This caused my emotions to explode. 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. I hastily moved backward, giving him a look of disbelief. He reeked of alcohol and 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.” He 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. 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. A sudden surge of clarity and calmness washed over me. “I want to divorce you.”	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	830	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13552&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/456447136_513011344615331_1497297673340256615_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vVzRhniaApwQ7kNvgFpvwNw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdtIcu95_AJ-Ekm3uTmtkh6&oh=00_AYDfgjt-KRmbyn-kIpDkESd0HEPgbOopmff41o2hIvq1RA&oe=672FD454	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,304,845	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2304794}'	No	2024-11-05 06:24	active	1699	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉		LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&...	CAROUSEL		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465015191_524417157157150_6126132211507196535_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=u-Aw5z1ouiYQ7kNvgF2D0ja&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A0-OjPeSgcP5mD5LVEuH_9G&oh=00_AYC9z-xh4i42qGbNSyYz_g0GsHX9pQRQTmDT2EJNE7JpJA&oe=672FD14D	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,302,712	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2301990}'	Yes	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697	Enter for a Chance to Win	🎉 Giveaway Alert! 🎉 Enter for a chance to win a JAWS pinball machine!	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	RC Willey	https://www.facebook.com/rcwilley/	292,989	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign Up	fb.me	DCO	RC Willey is giving away a JAWS pinball machine! Enter for a chance to win	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465472093_1216469246244863_5958211325273971944_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=AQutMkwXTUAQ7kNvgGyrTIJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A2qh2bSCx2rH1Xgqx_KpRt_&oh=00_AYAs5Fwq11OZNLwftSRmo2iKd1kyIywNupd5t1aehEiAyQ&oe=672FDA1F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	RC Willey	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,305,845	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2305380}'	Yes	2024-11-05 06:24	active	1699	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 “Sir, Madam is not feeling well," the butler of the Gannon mansion reported on the phone. The man at the end of the line spoke in a nonchalant tone. "So, take her to the hospital. I’m not a doctor." The line died immediately. The butler was so pale, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Zora relaxed her back against the sofa, feeling weak from abdominal pains. Trying to mask the pain, she asked hopefully. “What did he say?” The butler instantly put on a calm smile when he turned in her direction. “Madam, sir said he will meet us at the hospital.” Zora’s eyes lit up. Ezrah had not been home for almost three days, and she was missing him so much. This sickness seemed to be her lucky charm to get him to her side again. “Okay. Let’s go.” Zora’s heart warmed at the fact that Ezrah at least cared about his child. Both of them were caught in a scandal two years ago, so getting married was the only way to curb the situation. Ezrah’s stance was clear through it all. “When everything calms down, we are getting a divorce.” Zora hoped that by that time, she would have been able to melt his cold heart and make him fully hers, so her hopes were high. However, over time, she found him slowly drawing away from her, even when they worked together in the same company and shared the same bedroom. Two months ago, Ezrah returned and asked Zora for a divorce but chanced upon the test results. His expression was dark. “Let’s hold off on the divorce until after the child is born, but don’t expect to remain Mrs. Gannon. That title belongs to somebody else, but it’s definitely not you.” The marriage after those words had been terrible. Ezrah barely returned home, barely got intimate with her. The only reason she still bore Mrs. Gannon was because of the child in her womb. Zora thought that his reason for being away was because of work since he was the CEO of the Gannon Group, a multibillion-dollar company where Zora also worked as an assistant manager. Unknown to Ezrah, Zora had been secretly in love with him for five years, but that drunk night at her best friend Coco’s birthday party, Zora woke up in bed with Ezrah. She decided to keep it a secret and a memory she would forever cherish when the media picked up the news. Ezrah could not allow the scandal to ruin his well-kept reputation and cause him losses, so he announced that he and Zora were already dating secretly and were soon getting married. Zora, who had been madly in love with him, was excited about the news of getting married to Ezrah. Zora hoped that with time, his heart would warm up towards her, but that did not happen. Even in her state, Ezrah hardly spent the night at home. On the way to the hospital, Zora’s phone beeped, and looking at the content, her heart dropped. Ezrah was holding the delicate hand of a beautiful woman, a proud smile on his face. The caption read, ‘Mr. Ezra Gannon admits to reigniting his love for his old flame, Miss Piper Henshaw.’ Zora’s eyes were swollen with tears. As they dropped down her cheeks, she refused to believe it. Maybe it was photoshopped. There was never any news about Ezrah dating any woman before she had a baby for him. He never even warmed up to women. The man had long been secretive and kept his face from the media. Also, the butler Rudolph had said that Ezrah promised to meet them at the hospital, so the media must be spreading this false news to gain popularity. Even after everything, she still could not help the unease in her heart, instantly dialing his number. Despite him warning her to only communicate with him through the butler, Zora took the bull by the horn this time. Her call went through, but there was no answer. Her old self would have given up, but due to the unease in her heart because of the news, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. On the fourth ring, a woman answered the call. Her melodious voice made Zora feel less of a woman. “Ezrah is in the bathroom.” Zora’s hands holding the phone shook, her heart in tatters. Ezrah never allowed her to touch his phone, but this woman casually answered his call, and was he really in the bathroom? Zora felt the pain in her chest worse than that of her abdomen. “Who are you?” The words forced themselves out of her mouth. The woman responded casually, “Piper, his fiancée. And you are?” “Whatever he saved my name with,” Zora responded calmly. The pain of the news was more than she could bear. Though knowing that Ezrah never loved her, she thought they could live in peace for the sake of the baby in her womb, but Ezrah never meant to make her dreams come true. The woman at the end of the line moved the phone from her ear to have a better view of the caller ID. “Oh, Zora. If it’s urgent, I could drop a message for you when he comes out.” The nights Ezrah spent away when Zora thought he was busy at work, it was a great disappointment that he was with the woman he loved, leaving her to suffer with her unborn child. She was still in her first trimester, and due to all the morning sickness and other health issues, Zora had taken a break from working at the company to recover first. Her mind lacked clarity, and she was beginning to doubt all the responses she got from Rudolph when she asked him to get in touch with Ezrah. “Just tell him to call me.” Zora ended the call. At the hotel room, Ezrah returned from the meeting in the conference room. Since he never allowed anyone to answer their calls during meetings, he equally left his phone in the presidential suite meant for his relaxation. “What are you doing with my phone?” He asked as soon as he entered the bedroom. Before Piper spoke, he asked again, “and I made it clear that you should wait for me at the lounge. How did you have access?” The pout on Piper’s lips only made her cuter as she faked anger. “Is it wrong for me to come? We would have gotten married if Zora had not appeared.” Ezrah was a man who loved to keep his love life private. He and Piper had been in a secret long-distance relationship. The night they arranged to meet at the birthday party of one of his business partner’s sister, Piper had an emergency and could not attend as planned. That night, he mysteriously ended up in bed with Zora, an incident that should have been brushed under the carpet until the media took hold of it. Not wanting his well-maintained reputation to crack, he apologetically married Zora, promising Piper to divorce Zora secretly after two years when the news dies down. Things took a different turn when he found the test result after promising Piper that he was ending things with Zora. “I told you I was working on it. You should keep yourself hidden away from the press. We shouldn’t be seen together.” Ezrah’s voice was stern. It was business for him first, and he didn’t want Piper’s presence to ruin it for him. Piper was uneasy at the reminder. Forcing a smile, she relayed, “I could be your confidential secretary. Please Ezrah, I don’t want to be away from you anymore.” Ezrah did not give a response. His actions were always well thought out. It wasn’t easy for him to be the CEO of the legendary Gannon Group as the youngest of three sons. Any wrong move and his elder brothers would begin to fight for the position. “Did anyone call?” He was scrolling through his phone when he caught sight of Zora’s name. “Yeah. Zora. She said you should call her,” Piper responded with a smile, her fingers sliding over her exposed thighs as she lay seductively on the luxurious king-size bed. “What did you tell her?” Ezrah frowned a little. He wanted to keep Piper a secret until after the divorce. “I pretended not to know about her existence.” Piper lifted herself to a sitting position, and due to the long slit of the dress, her full thighs were exposed, but Ezrah’s attention was on the phone in his hand. “Do me a favor and don’t answer my calls again.” His voice had lost its warmth. Piper faked remorse. “I’m sorry. I thought it was urgent.” Ezrah finally held her gaze as he spoke roughly, “Nothing about Zora is ever urgent.” Chapter 2 Piper was very happy with his remark, but Zora was still Misses Gannon, the title Piper had long coveted. How she wished that night had not happened. If only that useless man had not appeared when she was about to leave for the airport to board the private jet, she would have been the one waking up in bed with Ezrah. It pained her that it had to be that woman, Zora. “Ezrah, are you sure you will divorce her?” Ezrah hated to be doubted. “You don’t believe me? I’m only with her because she’s carrying my child. As soon as he’s born, I will divorce her.” Piper smiled with satisfaction, and since she had mentally stored Zora's number after answering the call, she sent the recording to her. Remembering that the butler had called Ezrah informing him that Zora was sick, she asked after deleting the audio from her phone. “Can you go shopping with me? I didn’t bring enough clothes.” Even if Zora showed the audio to Ezrah, Piper would deny it as she had used a number Ezrah didn’t know to send it. “I have another meeting in two hours, so you have an hour and a half to finish shopping,” Ezrah said softly. Zora’s heart tightened in her chest when she played the audio. The butler who was driving the car felt helpless, equally disappointed in his boss. Zora asked from the back seat of the luxurious car she was seated in. “Did he really tell you he was coming to the hospital?” The butler’s throat went dry. He always succeeded in making up excuses for his boss, but this time, everything backfired. That audio destroyed everything. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I just didn’t want to see you sad.” Zora’s heart twitched, a bitter smile curled the corner of her lips, feeling like a fool as tears welled up in her eyes. She was nothing to Ezrah. The little surprises sent to ignite her hope were merely prepared by the butler. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recover from the pain as she felt a force hit the car from the side, causing it to swerve off the road and somersault thrice. The butler was instantly unconscious. Zora felt unbearable pain, blood sputtered from her mouth and nose, then in between her thighs. No words could describe the agony as she watched the life draining out of her with intense pain settled in her abdomen. She managed to pick up her phone, which had fallen to the side from the impact, dialing her husband’s number. Unable to lift the phone to her ear, she activated the speaker. “Zora. I’m busy.” That was what Ezrah said as soon as he answered the phone, not waiting to hear what she had to say. After all, nothing about Zora was ever urgent to him. Before she lost consciousness, she heard the laughter of a woman with the words, “Ezrah, I want these shoes.” “Try them on. If they fit, you can have them.” ‘So, shopping with a woman is what you call busy.’ That was what Zora thought before losing consciousness. Zora woke up at the hospital after hours of surgery. Her face was as pale as a ghost, her countenance pitiful. Her butler, Rudolph, sat at her hospital bed, a smile on his face. He had sustained a few injuries, but they were not serious, and he was already discharged. “Madam, you are awake. Thank God.” Zora was glad to see that Rudolph was fine. There were just bruises on his face. He quickly rushed out to call a doctor. “Mrs. Gannon, how are you feeling?” The doctor asked as he examined Zora, writing a few things on a writing pad he carried along. Zora was only concerned about one thing. “How is my baby?” Zora asked. The doctor’s eyes dulled. “I’m very sorry, but your baby couldn’t survive the impact.” Tears brimmed in the back of Zora’s eyes, but she fought them back. She lost everything. She left her father’s company to work for her husband, nurturing his business and enduring all the taunts of his arrogant family. At twenty-three, she had nothing to show for the man she had secretly loved for five good years. “It’s alright. She would have just suffered anyway.” Her heart had turned cold due to the loss of the child. “Excuse me?” The doctor was shocked. He expected her to cry like any woman in her situation would, but Zora bottled it in. She could endure all of Ezrah’s indifference towards her, but she would never forgive him for the loss of her child. That woman appeared, and Zora suddenly got involved in an accident. The case had to be investigated, but as for Ezrah, he no longer had a place in her heart. “Sorry, that was not directed at you.” There was no warmth in Zora’s apologetic voice. The doctor forced a smile, finished his examination, and left. Zora stared at the butler at the doorway. He stood there since the doctor arrived. Zora was about to tear down but couldn’t do so. She had been weak for too long, leading to the death of her child. If she had left the first time Ezrah asked her for a divorce, this would not have happened. When she discovered this baby, she decided to consent to the divorce and leave. At least, she would have his child to remind her of the relationship they once shared. Unfortunately, the test result fell from her handbag, Ezrah saw it. Even when he decided for them to wait until after she gave birth, his treatment of her was no better. “Where is Ezrah?” Zora asked. Butler Rudolph was scared. He could feel the cold in Zora’s voice, and even with the distance, he could feel the chills. “Madam, the man who hit us was drunk, and he died on the spot. The police are not able to contact his family either,” Rudolph reported, trying to avoid answering her question. He was a middle-aged man. Zora did not believe the report but kept it to herself. The moment she discovered that the man she respected so much was lying to her, her trust in him dwindled. She will find ways to investigate the matter by herself. “That isn’t my question.” “Boss left here a few minutes ago,” Rudolph answered. Zora was enraged this time. Not only Ezrah but Rudolph, the butler Ezrah assigned to her, was equally taking her for a fool. “Don’t lie to my face again.” Her voice was stern and full of contempt. Rudolph pursed his lips, his head lowered. “Boss said, and I quote. ‘It’s rather unfortunate. Let the doctors take care of her. I’m very busy at the moment.” Zora knew what he was busy with. It was the woman whose voice she heard in the audio. She thought she was strong enough to take it, but a tear fell from her eyes before she could stop it. Ashamed of showing her weak side in front of Rudolph, she discharged him. “Thank you, and please excuse me.” Rudolph was never supposed to leave Zora's side, so he was reluctant. “Ma…” “I said, excuse me, Rudolph,” Zora’s voice raised, Rudolph decided to wait in front of the door. “Okay.” As soon as he left the ward, Zora dialed a number. “Soph…” “Dad, I’m sorry. I made a mistake, and now, I lost everything.” Zora didn’t hold back her tears as she spoke to her father on the phone. He was against the marriage the moment he realized that Ezrah did not feel the same way Zora felt about him, but she was optimistic, insisting that Ezrah would change. Expecting her father to scold her an, ‘I told you so’ lecture, his voice was rather soft as he asked her. “What happened, Zora?” “I had an accident and lost the baby. I’m coming home.” The silence at the end of the line was deafening. She knew her father was saddened about the loss of his grandchild. When she was about to end the call, he suddenly said, “Oh Zora. I’m coming to get you. Just send me your location.” Zora refused. She couldn’t leave until she was legally separated from Ezrah. “No dad, I have a few things to do first.” “What is that? Let me help you with it?” Her father eagerly said, but she was in no mood to burden the middle-aged man. The loss had caused Zora to mature so fast as the reality of life hit her. No more would she depend on anyone. It was time to do something worthwhile with her life, but first of all, she will still have to face Ezrah for the last time. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle. “Okay. We shall prepare your welcome party. I will inform your mom.” Zora smiled and didn’t refuse her father’s kindness. Three days later, she was discharged from the hospital. As she waited for Ezrah’s return, she got the divorce papers ready. It was three days later in the dead of the night when Ezrah returned, tired-looking but his attractive features remained untouched by his fatigue. Zora had lost sleep, waiting for Ezrah during most of the days. As soon as she heard the sound of the car, she quickly rushed downstairs but paused on top of the stairs when Ezrah walked through the door of the living room. Arriving home, Ezrah no longer met the woman who always met him with a smile. She stood on top of the stairs and yelled with a cold expression, “Good news Ezrah! Our baby died in a car accident. There is nothing between us, so let’s get a divorce.” The man who was always cold to her instantly panicked. He stood momentarily frozen. Chapter 3 Ezrah was baffled by the news. Twice, he had asked her for a divorce and saw how gloomy she turned at the subject. This was what he wanted but he couldn’t help the unease filling his heart. Was it because Zora was the one asking? Was she trying to mess up his reputation with the loss of the child? Ezrah was confused. Zora descended the stairs, walking to the dining table. Ezrah did not utter an acceptance or rejection of her request for a divorce and went up the stairs, returning after ten minutes in loungewear. Seemed he wasn’t going out or was it the shock from the news? Seeing the dinner table hosting different delicacies, excitement filled his heart as he took a seat. If she really wanted a divorce, then she wouldn’t have cooked for him. At this moment, Piper was momentarily forgotten. Ezrah avoided Zora’s gaze as this was the first time she was so cold to him. Without alerting her of his arrival, she still ensured that his supper was ready. As he uncovered one of the dishes, his eyes darkened as he glared at her. It was not the food he was expecting but rather, the cold divorce papers, with a pen beside them, waiting to be signed. “What is this?” Ezrah was furious, being famished from not having time to eat. In times past, Zora would have been worried and tried to appease him but that Zora was gone. After crying her eyes out for days, she waited to serve Ezrah these cold documents, she had no more tears to shed but her eyes were dangerously red. “Do I need to get you a pair of glasses?” Her voice was taunting, as she saw the shocked expression on his face. He must have taken her request as a joke the first time but the documents exposed the reality. “Why? Were you expecting me to cook when I had no idea when you will be home?” Ezrah’s expression was blank. She could have made the maids do it. It burned Zora that she could not read his emotions but she didn’t care anymore. “Please sign the papers. In case the prints are too tiny, I got you a magnifying glass,” she dropped the item in front of him. Ezrah was not irrational. When he asked for a divorce, he ensured that there would be nothing for the media to feed on but now that they just lost a child? What will people think? His parents liked Zora, except his two elder brothers who always saw her as a threat. The situation was complicated now. Ezrah never thought she would stand on it to ask for a divorce because of how she always claimed to love him, not caring if he was just cold to her. He needed time to think. “We shall talk about it later,” he finally said and was about to stand up when Zora played an audio from her phone. With her mind made up, she wanted the divorce here and now. The woman in front of Ezrah was different from the one he always came home to. She always wore attractive clothes with a little makeup to seduce him which sometimes worked but after his release, Ezrah would return to being cold. Today, Zora did not have on any makeup. Her hair was not even combed. All she wore was pajamas, her long dark hair looking lifeless, in contrast to Ezrah who was looking so attractive. He had the looks and physique Zora used to die for but not anymore. All she felt for him now was resentment. She suddenly matured past looks or smartness in a man. What was there in being hot and a genius in business when there is no conscience or empathy? Zora was just seeing that the man she has always been obsessed with was a selfish monster, caring only about his own image, money, and passion. Whatever blinded her eyes before was removed the moment she woke up on that hospital bed. The voice from the audio was as clear as daylight. A female and a male but the male voice was indeed that of Ezrah. Female: I’m sorry. I thought it was urgent. Male: Nothing about Zora is ever urgent. Female: Ezrah, are you sure you will divorce her? Male: You don’t believe me? I’m only with her because she’s carrying my child. As soon as he’s born, I will divorce her. Zora caught an expression of guilt on his face but there was no remorse. His voice was hard. “Where did you get that?” He demanded. Piper could not have done this, right? She had no contact with Zora. But it was just the two of them in the room. Were there secret cameras? Though confused, his expression returned to being blank. “You have to destroy that audio before I sign this paper,” he threatened her. Zora could not tell how she managed to pretend that she was fine. Up until now, he didn’t even care to apologize for sharing their private information with whatever name he calls the woman in his life. What on earth could have made her fall in love with such a man? He was different from that man from a long time ago who saved her from the pool when she was bullied by some jealous friends. Ezrah did not remember that day but that was when Zora fell in love with him. She calmly showed him another caption on her phone. ‘Mr. Ezra Gannon admits to reigniting his love for his old flame, Miss Piper Henshaw.’ This time, Ezrah paled but his eyes were dark and he picked up his phone instantly. He couldn’t find the person who took those pictures and how they went viral but had to get someone to take them down. The hacker would also be able to find out who sent that information to the press. Zora had grown thorns after listening over and over to the audio and reading that news on her phone. Ezrah had already told her the same thing so this shouldn’t hurt. “It doesn’t matter. The hindrance has already been removed and you already have a woman waiting for you. Just sign the freaking papers.” Chapter 4 Ezrah paced back and forth elegantly, his mind filled with confusion and fear after ending the call. “You want to blackmail me? How much do you want?” He was enraged and disdained that Zora would resort to such means, but he was willing to pay to prevent the audio from going viral. His parents would not hesitate to demote him despite his hard work in the company, while his lazy elder brothers would benefit without putting in the effort. “What I want, you already gave, but since the accident took it away, there is nothing you can give me.” She did not disclose her suspicions, as she had someone investigating the matter. Ezrah suddenly laughed mockingly. “Your father’s company is not as strong as you think. He has been seeking an alliance with me. You want fifty percent of my hard work.” This could be the reason Zora was pushing for the divorce. Fifty percent from the Gannon Group would elevate her family business to new heights. She felt bitter that he would think so poorly of her. Despite her feelings, she kept her composure. “No. You were the one who proposed the divorce, so were you planning to leave me with nothing?” Her question left him speechless, and she reminded him of the prenup agreement. “Did you forget that I signed a prenup before marrying you? I just refreshed your memory so you are free to sign.” Ezrah recalled that Zora had willingly proposed and prepared the prenup when they announced their marriage after the scandal. She did it all to prove to him that she wasn’t ‘interested in his wealth. He suddenly felt uneasy. This was not the scenario he had anticipated when he entered the room. Besides, he was hungry and not in the right state to make such a decision. What if Zora was being supported by one of his brothers or both? “You may have dismissed it, but it's only a matter of time before you reveal that you left with nothing.” Zora struggled to suppress the pain that came with realizing that Ezrah's delay in finalizing the divorce was not due to developing feelings for her or guilt, but rather to protect his image in front of the media and family. She felt a bitter smile form on her lips. “Trust me, nothing about our divorce will be leaked to the media.” “I don’t believe you,” Ezrah responded bluntly. Zora had worked closely with him, and despite her absence from the office in recent weeks, she was privy to confidential information. Ezrah had never seen her as a threat due to her infatuation with him, but now he feared she might make his life difficult. “As soon as the papers are signed, you won’t hear from me again. You can have a happy life with the woman you love,” Zora proposed. Ezrah was already contemplating how he could benefit from her disappearance after the divorce. It seemed like she wanted to start fresh somewhere far away. “Alright. I’m not heartless. I will still give you 50 million,” he said as he signed the document, only to find that Zora had already signed her part. After signing the divorce agreement, Ezrah’s phone rang. Seeing it was Piper, he answered it and began to climb the stairs in long strides. Piper keeps breaking the agreement. She wasn’t supposed to call him when she was home. Zora overheard him on the phone, “Are you the one who recorded our conversation at the hotel?” She couldn’t hear Piper’s response but had the conviction that it was her. Deciding it was best to spend the night on the sofa, Zora couldn't fathom sharing a room with him after their divorce. She was too exhausted to move to another room. Her sleep was restless, prompting her to wake up before Ezrah. She had already packed her bags, so she dressed and approached him. “Ezrah, it’s time to finalize our divorce in court.” Ezrah woke up and looked at her glumly. She was still in a somber mood, her eyes red despite the makeup. He sighed, “just a few minutes.” An hour later, they arrived at the divorce court. With Zora having made prior arrangements, the process was swift, and they soon had their divorce certificates. Without hesitation, they signed their respective portions. “You should keep your word and leave New York for good, or else you won’t like what I will do,” Ezrah warned solemnly. Zora had a faint smile on her face. “I have a gift waiting for you at home.” Ezrah frowned, wondering what kind of gift she arranged for him after their divorce. Zora has always been generous, buying him gifts and anything she knew he would like. He would neither accept nor refuse them. Whereas, he never used any of the gifts she bought for him. They left together, but Zora departed in a cab against his wishes to drop her at the airport. She reiterated that he would never see her again. Ezrah felt conflicted but remembered his promise to Piper. Despite his desire to head straight to the office for a meeting, curiosity got the best of him. He rescheduled the meeting and drove home to see the gift Zora had left for him. Upon arriving, he found a letter on the dining table addressed to him. ‘EZRAH.’ He couldn't recall seeing it earlier that morning, and a sense of unease crept over him as he approached and opened the letter. It was written in Zora’s handwriting, unmistakable to him. As he read the words, fear, panic, and regret flooded his heart. The letter slipped from his trembling fingers as he cried out, “ZORA, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13232&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	830	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	shgjfh.com	VIDEO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13232&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/t39.35426-6/454616911_485346857545757_8159922641440587077_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=GzhimiTzN3EQ7kNvgHT19QH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AQIN7mbg7eC9iXRIMHJhDLt&oh=00_AYD85QePfZmA61K23jSg8vhx6fOMqPZn_cHhsXK2D7pJLQ&oe=672FCA2E	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,308,389	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2308380}'	Yes	2024-11-05 06:39	active	1700	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 A Messy Life and the Mafia Six months ago, I was a promising med student on the verge of all my dreams coming true, but now I’m just a waitress trying to start over in a new city. I know this restaurant I work at has ties to the infamous Onyx Mafia, but I didn’t have much choice—it's the best-paying job I could find. Besides, the scariest thing about working here isn’t the Mafia, it is the man at table eight flagging me down, obviously fuming. “What looks wrong here?” He snaps and I scan table eight's orders. Foie gras for the blonde in red, Peking duck for the pouty daughter—check. But the impatient bald man tapping his fingers? He got the risotto, not the ribeye currently in front of him. A cold sweat sweeps down my spine as I look between the squinting gaze of the man and the squiggles that are my handwriting. I still write like a surgeon, yet another reminder of my failed dreams. "Wait, I'm sorry... you ordered--" My hands tremble, and my heart sinks as I realize the kitchen couldn’t decipher my handwriting and just took a guess. Lucky me, their guess was wrong. "I-I think the kitchen--" Before I can finish my sentence, Jessica descends upon us like a vulture, risotto in hand. "Apologies for the inconvenience," she chimes in, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Elise here is still learning the ropes." "I can tell," the man responds curtly, his attention entirely on Jessica, silently dismissing me. There goes my tip. "Sir, I noticed you’re drinking the 1984 Chateau. Let me send another round on the house for your troubles," Jessica offers breathlessly, her bosom on display as she leans in, her eyes batting just like they did back in high school. The man grunts in agreement as her fingers dig into my arm like talons. She whispers through clenched teeth, "Kitchen. Now." I bow my head obediently as I follow her into the chaos of the kitchen. When I moved here, I promised things were going to be different. I would be no one’s stepping stool, and yet here I am again, at the mercy of another girl who appears oblivious to the fact that we graduated high school. “Elise struck again, boys!” Tony, the sous chef, calls out, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. “What was it this time? Dropped another soup? Tripped and broke all the glasses?” In my defense, the soup incident happened because a man molested me, and Jessica tripped me while I was carrying glasses for an 18-person table. “Oh, tonight she gave one of our regulars the wrong meal.” “It’s the kitchen’s fault. I ordered a risotto, not a ribeye."I retort, pushing my glasses up as I glare at Jessica. “And who could tell with that chicken scratch handwriting?” Tony snorts. “Remember she wanted to be a surgeon,” Jessica sneers. “Doctors notoriously have terrible handwriting, but not waitresses.” The other kitchen staff snicker at her remark. They all think I went to med school and couldn’t cut it. But they don't know the truth, and it would be worse if they did. I take a deep breath, trying to push down my anger. "You were supposed to be a surgeon, marry Sirius, live your perfect little life," she snaps back, the mention of his name, Sirius, still a punch to the gut after all these years. I bite my lip to stifle the retort that threatens to spill from my lips and look down at my tennis shoes, a lump forming in my throat. I can still remember the feeling of the day he disappeared. I told everyone he loved me, that he would be back, and that he would never just leave me, but they were all right. He was gone. He didn’t want me anymore and wasn’t brave enough to say it to my face before disappearing. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him again. It’d be a combination of running into his arms, waiting to see every bit of his life I missed, and kicking him where the sun doesn't shine. "But then you ended up at the bottom, where you’re meant to be." I hold my breath. I can’t show Jessica she’s getting to me. "Good thing Sirius came to his senses like we all knew he would," Jessica retorts. "Once he was done slumming it, he ran away from you as fast as possible. I mean, you practically ran him out of town." The lump in my throat swells as memories of his abandonment flood back, the pain still fresh. "You know what--" "Those better are words of gratitude, Elise, because I am two seconds away from firing you," Jessica interrupts, her smirk widening as she relishes in my discomfort. I swallow back my retort, facing Mr. Thompson, the restaurant manager. Mr. Thompson's stern gaze pierces through me as he approaches. "Elise, why do I have Mr. Kelsey asking for a free bottle of wine for his troubles?" "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do better, I promise." "You have been promising to do better for weeks, Elise. That is not enough anymore," he snaps. "I'll work harder, I swear," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice. "Please." Mr. Thompson holds up a hand to silence me. "You've got one more chance, Elise, but you’re out of here if I hear one more complaint. Do you understand?" I nod frantically."Yes, Mr. Thompson. I won't let you down. I promise." He scoffs, clearly unconvinced. "For the rest of your shift, you are exclusive to the VIPs upstairs," he continues, his tone stern. "They’re too drunk to notice your insolence." "Yes, sir," I whisper. "And you better be on your best behavior because the Mafia king is here," Mr. Thompson warns. "And if I don’t have your head, he will." I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach, as I nod, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Mr. Thompson storms off into his office, leaving Jessica behind me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Looks like you're on thin ice, Elise," Jessica says, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. "Better watch your step." "Why? You’re going to trip me?" "I would never, but since you are exclusive to VIPs," Jessica hands me a tray of appetizers too heavy for me to hold without almost falling over. "Take this to table 19... the King’s subjects are there." I take a deep breath as I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room. But as I look up at the men sitting upstairs, a wave of dread washes over me, making me want to run in the opposite direction. They're overly comfortable, as if they own the place as if they own the world. And in a way, they do. The rumors swirling around the restaurant's ownership, whispers of connections to the mafia, suddenly feel all too real. Each step closer to the VIP room feels heavier, as if I am dragging myself closer. As I approach, the men’s eyes leering over me like predators sizing up their prey. The minute I set down the appetizers, a hand grips the back of my leg, sending a shiver down my spine. "Hey there, sweetheart," the man slurs, his breath reeking of booze as he pulls me into his lap. "Why don’t you clock out and hang with the big dogs?" I squirm, feeling his hand wander where it shouldn't."No. Stop it. I have to get back to work," I protest, trying to push him away. But he only laughs, his grip tightening as his friends jeer and egg him on. I squirm, feeling something hard poking me, I begin to panic. He hisses in excitement in my ear. “Yeah, baby, keep doing that.” I try to pull away, causing my glasses to go flying. Great, now I’m blind too. I struggle with my body, tears stinging as I attempt to slide out of his lap, “I need my glasses.” “You do not need glasses for what we are going to do.” He pinches my chin, leaning in as if he is going to kiss me, but the sound of a growling, cleared throat causes him to pause. Panic rises in my throat as I realize that none of these guys will help me and that going against the Mafia for some random waitress is a losing battle. "In my restaurant, we do not tolerate harassment of women," the voice declares, cutting through the VIP, firm and unwavering. The handsy man practically throws me onto the floor as he looks up at the gentleman standing in front of him. I turn to see, in my blurry haze, the silhouette of a man looming protectively over me, his presence exuding authority and strength. The handsy man stutters as the man approaches us, “King. She approached me.” “Really? Are you calling me a liar?” The Mafia King’s voice is calm and sharp, like a shard of ice. “ No, my King, but she is a call girl!” I snap, looking back at the handsy man before turning to the King to plead my case. But I pause. The King’s head is tilted as he looks at me. The King’s voice is laced with disappointment and concern, “A call girl?” Chapter 2 Mafia King Knows Me？ “What, no!” I stand up, “I am not a call girl!” My hand instinctively reaches for my glasses, but they're not there. With a frown, I protest, glaring at the accusing handsyMafia man. “No call girl is too nice for what she does on her knees.” Jessica stands next to the stairs, arms crossed, leaning on the railing. “She solicited me. Asked me to come get her after work because she needs to make some extra money,” the handsy man pleads, but the King stares at me. Jessica saunters over, her hand casually trailing between her bosoms and up to her collarbone as she walks. She stops in front of the King, a coy smile playing on her lips as she leans close to whisper in his ear. “Think about it, darling. A woman who can get close enough to you without suspicion and weasels her way into the VIP area. Doesn’t that sound like a call girl?” The movements Jessica makes intrigue me as if she can turn on and off her alluring appeal. The King's gaze never leaves my direction as Jessica whispers in his ear. Slowly, he straightens up and pushes Jessica slightly back. “You seem to know a lot about the position of a call girl,” King says, but Jessica playfully laughs that off. “I admire how they always seem to get their way.” Gears start to turn in my mind as I squint at Jessica’s blurry form. She looks innocent and inviting, as if she is just flirting, but she is fully prepared to go much further than that. But I can see past her facade now, despite my broken glasses and the blurry world they left me in. Squinting, I can just make out the calculated way she moves and the sharpness in her eyes. I interject before Jessica can respond, “King, look at her body language. Even through the blur, she’s loose, inviting, and sensual as she speaks to you.” The King's gaze shifts from me back to Jessica, a new sense of awareness in his eyes. “When you came in here my body language was stiff, closed off. If I were a call girl like her, I wouldn’t be a good one, would I?” Jessica's facade wavers for a split second before she regains her composure, letting a seductive smile spread across her face. The King lightly chuckles as he pushes Jessica away, “It takes more than a brain full of silicone and fake bosoms to be a good call girl, but I see your point.” “It’s an act some guys like, King, a little bit of fight,” Jessica goes to reach for the King again, but he grabs her wrist tightly, his body tense. “Do not touch me again,” the King drops her hand with disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans as he continues. “ I have let you humor me with your lies, but do not treat me like a fool.” “No, King I would never,” the King gives her a humorless laugh as he invades her space menacingly. “You think you could play me for a fool because I am a man I must be ruled by my hormonal drive? Is that it?” The King looks her over in disgust and turns away, “Get out of my sight.” “King, you have to be protected from her.” Jessica approaches him again, feigning innocence, but the King’s subjects block her as he moves closer to me. “You underestimate me because I have shown you kindness. I will not make that mistake again. ” He slowly looks over at Jessica, and I can tell from how her knees buckle that she sees the darkness in his eyes. “ You're fired.” “King, I’m sorry I-” “You have three minutes to exit. I would use that time wisely.” Fear strikes across Jessica’s face as she scrambles back down the stairs. I bow my head, looking at my tennis shoes, unsure of the punishment I may receive. I don’t know how long I have been looking down, but a hand holding my broken glasses evades my eyeline. “Oh, thank you.” “They are shattered, can you see otherwise?” I shake my head, not allowing my hair to fall into my face. The King pinches my chin forcing me to look at him, and I can make out the sharpness of his jawline. His touch shoots a spark of electricity down my spine, and my breath hitches. “I will-” “I have contacts downstairs. You know, in case of emergencies.” The King looks at me as if a thousand questions are running through his mind. “Why are you working here?” I struggle back, slighting, and the King releases me. Jessica was right in a way I was supposed to be so much more. I was supposed to be a surgeon. I had the brains for it. The steady hands. The determination, but it is not often a stranger can see you are meant to be so much more than what you are. In the blur, I try to find his eyes before I respond, “Most people can’t do what they truly want to.” The King nods sharply before taking a step back and clearing his throat. “I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. They’re filled with dangerous people, and normal people shouldn’t be around them.” “You sound worried.” I laugh at the King’s warning. “I am serious, Elise. I don’t want you up here again.” The King’s voice is sharp, and I straighten at the command. “As you wish, King.” His lips in a tight line, he nods taking a small step to the right, allowing me to shimmy past him. I stop and turn around, “Thank you for everything.” He doesn’t respond, opting for a sharp nod. I walk forward, clutching my broken glasses, looking down when another figure blocks my exit. The blonde guy with an easygoing smile clears his throat as he nervously scratches the back of his head, “Hey," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. Are you okay?" "I'll survive," I reply with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he nods slowly. “Well, I was wondering if you would give me a chance to show you not everyone in the Mafia is not a pig?” I give him a small smile, feeling the heat of someone’s eyes behind me. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.” The snort causes me to turn around, and the King blends into the black leather couch, looking at me, “Boyfriend?” “A great boyfriend. If that matters?” The King coughs, “Not at all.” He looks over at a disappointed Jacob. “I just told her to steer clear of us, and you ask her out on a date in front of me.” “What shot would I have after this if you ban her?” “None. You get no chance.” The King growls, and I back up towards the stairs. “Leave now, Elise Caroline. I don’t want to see you up here again.” His warning is sharp and declarative. With a small squeak, I scurry down the stairs, but I pause before I enter the kitchen. I never introduced myself. I never told the King my name, yet he said it not once but twice, and the second time, he used my middle name. Does the Mafia King know me? Do I know him? Chapter 3 Rumors and Crisis I don’t breathe until the kitchen doors slam behind me. How does the Mafia King know my name, surely he knows all his employees' names. He may just be a great boss. Right, that’s it. The Mafia King is a great boss who would’ve thought? My breathing slows and I realize I’m so caught up in my thoughts I don’t feel the entire kitchen looking at me until Toni clears his throat. “Elise?” I look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but I don’t respond. Instead, Dawn, the pastry chef, approaches me with flour-covered hands. “Hey girly, are you okay? Did the King…hurt you?” I shake my hand no, a strangled breath releases from my lips, and Dawn sighs, squeezing my cheeks. “Good because the King has no right hurting a girl as innocent as you.” “Like that would’ve been his first time!” Kelsey, the saucier, laughs in the corner of the kitchen. “Kels, you’re not helping,” Dawn snaps, but Toni approaches us wickedly. “I heard his favorite way to murder is the bloody eagle.” “Toni!” I look at Dawn’s horrified face as she runs to cover my ears. “What's the bloody eagle?” I whisper. The dread I had swimming in my gut since the King first laid eyes on me bubbles to the surface. I feel like I could vomit. “All I’m going to say is ribs pulled through the back. If you want more details, do your research online.” I would not, but Kelsey laughs, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t put it past him. The King treats his subjects like their commodities, completely replaceable. He’s the youngest King ever, and you don’t get to be King in your twenties without a trail of blood behind you.” Kelsey points her ladle at us in warning, “So watch ya’ step, or the King will gut ya’ like a fish!” “Or hang your head above his fireplace, I heard the king loves a trophy, and a pretty head like yours would be perfect.” Toni swats at my hair and Dawn pushes him back to his station. “What is all this racket?! Kelsey you’re messing around and broke the sauce!” The Head Chef, Yolanda enters the kitchen with a stern look in her eyes, “And you! Why aren’t you running my plates?” “I-I…” I rub my hands back and forth, feeling the tension of being in trouble for the third time tonight. “She just had an interaction with the King. Leave her alone.” Dawn snaps. Dawn and Yolanda are childhood best friends, and Dawn is the only one who can talk to Yolanda that way and still have her job. Yolanda’s face pales as she walks closer to me, “You interacted with the King and made it out alive? Count your lucky stars.” Yolanda approaches me cautiously and I don’t realize all the stress is forcing tears to burn in my eyes. “That man is cold-blooded like a snake.” Despite the bile I balance in the back of my throat, I look Yolanda in the eye and shake my head, “No, he protected me. He knew my name.” “He knew your name because you have a name tag on your shirt.” Yolanda flicks my name tag and I look down at it, a pang of disappointment shivering through me. “Protect you?” Dawn questions, “You didn’t say anything about the King protecting you.” “That may be worse. A dangerous man like him may like you, want you.” Yolanda whispers. My eyes widened. My skin flushes as Yolanda and Dawn share a look with each other. The King knew my name. The King wants me. I remember the way he said boyfriend as if it was the most disgusting word on his tongue. But just as I spiral, Dawn and Yolanda break into laughter. “Girl, bless your heart! A man that fine wants you. You better be over the moon happy.” Dawn lightly hits her rag on my right arm, and I flinch, holding my breath. “I mean, those gray eyes are just delicious!” Kelsey chimes in. “Nope, it has to be black curly hair.” Those eyes, that hair remind me of Sirius. His eyes could be a storm with everyone else and clear with me. How a single curl always danced in the middle of his forehead, and I’d spend all day pushing it back. The days when he was my Sirius. The laughter snaps me out of my daze. “I bet he wakes up with his hair like that, just messy and perfect!” “Yolanda, I don’t know if you want to be him or sleep with him?” “Does it matter?” The entire kitchen erupts into laughter. “I would take him any way I could get him. He is so fine!” “So how did he look up close, Elise? A walking daydream, huh?” Kelsey leans over her pot, wiggling her eyebrows. I hide my head slightly, blush to creep up the apple of my cheeks. “I don’t know,” I show the kitchen my glasses. “I broke my glasses. All I could see was tall, charming, and hot.” The entire kitchen boos. “You get close to the Mafia King, and your glasses break!” Dawn pouts, pushing me away, and I giggle for the first time in this entire situation. “Sorry, I can’t tell you how hot he is. You’re going to have to figure that out yourselves!” “Hey! Why is no one helping me out on the floor?” An upset waiter enters the kitchen looking around at us. “I’ll be right there, just let me get my contacts.” I head towards the break room and rummage inside my purse, revealing my contact lenses. I begin to replace my contacts, looking into the crappy workplace mirror, but once my vision is clear, all I can see is my missing earring. One of my silver earrings from Sirius, he got me for our last anniversary together. He’s already missing. I can lose the last thing he’s ever given me. I look over at the floor near my locker, but I know where it is. It’s in the VIP area. I turn on my heel towards the VIP area. The Mafia King's warning echoed in my mind, I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. It’s filled with the type of dangerous people, normal people shouldn’t be around.” I push his warning into the back of my mind. With a deep breath, I start walking up the stairs. I’ll be quick! In and out before anyone notices. As I enter the VIP area, I immediately fall to my knees, crawling around for the earring and hiding from the boisterous men laughing around the bar. I freeze when the King’s voice booms through the area, “You’re lucky I don’t collect your freaking head!” The music in the VIP clicks off. “Boss, it was just a girl!” The man snaps back and the entire area seems to hold their breath as the twinkle of something catches my eye. “A girl under my protection. The same way you are under my protection.” The King's voice is even and controlled again, “And don’t I always protect mine?” I contort my body, grabbing the dangled earring from underneath the couch. “Let me provide you with this small mercy. I promise you the alternative is lethal, and it would be a shame to murder you when you’re still useful to me.” The club music clicks back on as if nothing happened. I sit up on the floor, fixing the earring in my ear. When the footsteps descend towards me. I am not quick enough when I hear the humorless laughter of the handsy man, “You are the freaking pain of my existence. I’m on grunt duty because of you.” I look up, my eyes darting between him and the stairs. If I jump up and run. I should make it. I will make it. I propel myself off the floor, running towards the stairs, but the handsy man is quicker. He pulls me back by my hair, caging me in. My breath hitches as cold metal digs into my side. His breath gushes over my face in puffs thick with the scent of tobacco and gin. “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” Chapter 4 The Mafia King is My Ex? “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” His fingernails dig into my wrist, but I bite back any response watching his nostrils flare. “You got me suspended from duties because you rather spread your legs for the King than me.” He pulls me against him, snarling at my confident facade. I look down at the mark forming on my wrist, keeping my voice as even as possible, I say, “I do not want the King. I do not know the King.” He pushes me against the brick wall, and with my better judgment, I whimper, gripping the back of my head, “You dare lie to me? After all you have done, you freaking lie to me?” Spit sprays over my face, his eyes bulge out of his head as he holds me against the wall. The concrete dug into my skin. “Please,” I whisper. “Please?! Please! You purposefully lead me to the freaking slaughter, shaking your tight body for the king, begging him to punish me for your fault.” His wet breath drips down my face, and I look away towards the hallway leading to the King. I didn’t know the King. He did not need to come to my rescue, yet he did. Maybe the King liked me the way Dawn said, but what did it matter? I did not want him. “I am not sorry you were punished. I said no.” “Oh, so this is the little game we’re going to play? You say no, and mean yes.” A greedy, devious smile spread across the man's lips as if the idea of conquering me in such a manner excited him. “You little freaking tease.” His palm digs into my waist, and my eyes water over, straining to look down the hallway to the King. “No.” “You like causing trouble, huh? You like luring men in to watch them. ” I hear the click of his belt, a dooming sound. “You need to be taught a lesson, and I love punishing little girls with fresh mouths.” A voice and the click of a door opening cut the tension. “Boss, who even was she?” He pulls me into a corner. He pulls me in front of him and presses himself on me. His gun is tucked under my chin, and his arm is wrapped around my waist as he whispers in my ear, “Don’t make a freaking sound.” I watch the King walk down the hallway, most of his subjects a step or two behind him. The young member with dirty brown hair and colorful tattoos walks almost in step with him. The King’s voice almost sounds bored as he responds. “That is none of your concern, Taylor.” “You punished one of your own men for her. I think you owe us an explanation.” Taylor snaps, stopping the King in his steps. “Owe?” He slowly turns, and I can see the King’s face clearly through a sliver of light. The girls downstairs didn’t do him any justice. He was breathtaking. Dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric stretched taut over his muscular frame, his white button-up exposed the tattoo in swirling patterns on his chest and up part of his neck. His curly black hair was gelled back into a style of sorts, but two unruly curls escaped and framed his face. His eyes swirled like a storm, erupting and flashing between the calming gray and black. He looked almost like a tortured angel. He almost looks like Sirius. “You think I owe you?” The King snarls at Taylor, who instantly turns pale. “N-no, I just mean-” “You just mean I should allow subordinates to run rampant to assault and pillage like average thugs.” “Sir it just seemed like you cared about the girl too much.” “What I choose to care and not care about is none of your freaking business, but Dan was punished for lying to me,” The King leans in closer, “ I was feeling gracious, so he was given a slap on the wrist, next time I will cut out his tongue. But my kindness has expired.” “King.” Desperation drips in the boy’s tone, but the King dismisses him with the flick of his wrist, and a man drags Taylor away. “Step foot in my territory again, and you will be destroyed on sight.” The King continues walking forward as if he did not send someone to their death, but the gasp that escapes my lips makes him pause. “Dan?” The handsy man behind me shifts, a grunt escaping his throat. Then a shot rang out, something sliced through the air, and Dan shrieked, falling to his knees. “I show you kindness, and this is how you repay me?” The King’s voice is deathly low as he approaches, and I dare not move. I dare not breathe. “The call girl freaking deserves it.” A low rumble of laughter escapes the King, lowering himself over a bleeding Dan. He pushes the barrel of the gun into the wound in his shoulder. “You are freaking mad, murdering innocents just because they won’t sleep with you?” The King pistol whips Dan into the floor, and a strangled sound fills the room. Dan spits onto the floor. “This is the thanks I get for letting you keep your life?” “My King, she seduced me-” The King grips him by the collar dragging him close. “You think it is wise to lie again?” Dan audibly swallows, a whimper escaping his lips. The King snaps his finger, and a buff, bald man with the word mercy over his knuckles comes up behind him. “Yes, boss?” “I want his tongue and right hand.” With a curt nod, the man grips Dan by his injured shoulder and drags him deeper into the VIP area. “I thought I told you not to come back in here.” The King looks in the direction of a weeping, sounding annoyed. I slowly at the King from the corner of my eye, my mouth completely dry and my hands feverishly shaking. The scars on the King’s face glitter in the low lighting making my stomach twist, so I focus on the silver, twisted ring on his ring finger. It looks almost like tree branches gripping his skin. “I-I left something here.” “What?” His empty grey eyes lock on me. “An earring.” A short grunt leaves his lips, “You risked your life for an earring?” “It’s sentimental.” I whisper, narrowing my eyes closer to the ring, recognizing the red ruby in the center of a rose, and I almost choke, drilling my eyes into his, “Sirius?!” Chapter 5 An Unexpected Reunion “Sirius?!” My heart is practically beating out of my chest. I can’t breathe, staring into his eyes, I know. I know it’s him. He turns to me a blank look on his face. The silence in the room creeps over me, and I slowly look around the room. Every mafia member is staring at me, with tension in their necks, awaiting the command of their king. I almost believe I’ve misspoken as I watch the King’s jaw click. “Elise.” “Oh my god!” I take a step back, looking him over. He looks just like he did in high school, but buffed up and toned, no longer lean and boyish. He’s a full man now. “When I told you to stay away from here, I meant it. Earring or not.” “These were…you cannot tell me what to do, Sirius.” He tilts his head to the side, looking me over. “You gave these to me…before you…” “I know, earring or not. Do not come back up here. Stay away from the mafia.” His voice is ice-cold and distant. He starts to walk away from me, and I almost leap out of my skin following him. “Do not speak to me like that, not after what you did. You abandoned me, and now you dismiss me.” “We both know what really happened back then, don’t act like you don’t know. Do not make me into some villain.” “No, but you are heartless. You leave without a word. You disappear, then you come back and ignore me as if we were nothing. As if you didn’t even—” My words get caught in my chest as if I am about to cry, but Sirius turns sharply towards me, heat rising in his eyes. “Once. I had a heart once, but now when I tell you to do something, you listen, Elise, and that’s final.” Sirius speaks lowly in my face, his voice feathers over me. “Now leave.” My eyes cannot help but flicker at his lips, but I immediately take a step back when he licks them. “No. Just because you say jump, d-does not mean I have to follow, Sirius.” I can hear the click of a gun, and Sirius doesn’t even move as he watches my actions. I raise my hands up and grit my teeth, “I guess you won’t even let me say thank you before murdering me, huh? ” “Lower your weapons, no one is allowed to point a gun at her ever.” I put my hands down slowly, my anger and grief swirling into panic as he turns to leave again. “If I mean so little to you, why are you still wearing your ring?” The branching ring with a single ruby was part of a promise ring set Sirius and I had brought when we were silly and in love. My ring is in my jewelry bag, hidden so Alston won’t find it and ask questions. “For sentimental reasons. I engraved it with something to remind me of the past.” He looks down at the ring longingly before snapping his eyes to my hands. “Where is your ring?” “I lost it years ago.” I don’t know why I lie or what I try to hide, but I know I can’t let him think anything can happen between us. He just nods sharply, not letting any emotions pass over his face. A throat clears in the background, and the tension in the room deflates slightly at the fakely bubbly voice of Mr. Thompson. He stands between Sirius and me a sharp look in his eyes. “Is everything okay here?” “Just a conversation,” Sirius responds evenly, his eyes not leaving mine. Mr.Thompson gives an empty chuckle, “Ah yes, I had to have a conversation with this employee multiple times. She is lazy. She constantly elicits complaints for her promiscuity and irresponsible nature.” He turns to me, hard eyes in his eyes, raising his voice, “Elise, I told you one more time.” “Mr.Thompson, this isn’t what it looks.” I begin, but he puts a hand in my face silencing me. “No, no, the time has come Elise you have embarrassed yourself in front of the King. You have constantly caused problems. You are the most terrible waitress I have ever had the displeasure of managing--” Sirius clocks his gun, placing the barrel against the back of Mr.Thompson’s head and he freezes. “No, no, continue your rant with a gun to your head.” “Sir, I was just firing insubordinate who was causing you trouble.” Mr.Thompson raises his hands up shakily. “Do you think of me as a damsel in need of saving, Thompson?” “Absolutely not sir.” “So why would I need you to come to my rescue?” “Sir, she has been a terrible employee, and I think--” “I do not care what you think. One more insult at her, and I am blowing your freaking brain across this room, understand?” Mr.Thompson nods slowly. “Good.” Sirius puts his gun away, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Is this what you do all day? Threaten people’s lives?” “No normally I am not protecting my ex-girlfriend.” Sirius tucks the gun in his waistband, shrugging at Elise. “Where even is he?” “What are you talking about, Sirius?” He walks closer to me a teasing smile on his lips. “Where is your boyfriend? Why is he not here to step in during every crisis, like I am?” Sirius stands a breath away from me, and from his tone, I can tell he is taunting me, that he wants a rise out of me. For a second, I want to smile at his boyish ways. His jealousy-fueled mockery reminds me of my Sirius. “My relationship with Alston has nothing to do with you!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes dip to my chest, but his eyes narrow, looking at me just as quickly. “I thought you were dating my brother Lester?” “No, he is like a brother to me.” He chuckles. “It would destroy him to hear you say that.” “Why would you think I was with Lester?” “I never would have guessed Alston because he is such a good guy. Taking down major corporations, defending the little guy. I thought you liked your guys with a little edge to them.” Sirius shrugs, a carefree look in his eyes. “You used to be a good guy.” Sirius flashes his million-dollar smile that makes my knees weaken. “I was never a good guy, you just always saw the good in me.” Sirius’s voice is barely above a whisper, causing shivers down my spine. Alston was good. After Sirius went missing, Alston pursued me and when Lester was severely injured, Alston was the one who gathered most of the money for the medical expenses. His good deeds made me fall for him. He was always saving the day, and knowing that he was my personal superhero made me feel secure, supported, and loved. Most importantly, I never felt like he would abandon me. “I agreed to be his girlfriend because he makes me feel safe, Sirius, physically and emotionally.” Sirius’s eyes widen and the careless smile on his face fizzles out. I want to reach up and cup his face. I want to tell him that despite moving on he was my first, I have never been crazy, or foolish in love with anyone else. It’s only been him. “Thompson, leave.” Sirius doesn’t break eye contact with me as Mr.Thompson scurries to leave, but before he can make his grand escape, “I want your office cleared out by the morning.” “What?” Mr.Thompson slows, looking over his shoulder, shock across his face. “Elise will be the new owner, effective in the morning.” Simultaneously Mr.Thompson and I both look at Sirius as if he has lost his mind, screaming, “What? Why?” “Because Alston is not the only person who can make you feel safe, Elise.”	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12158&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=12158&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449044422_1575931366327027_957907443075673983_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0icgVcVIzWAQ7kNvgF0_ydV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A3ynHJj9waQJHVHNRsTPg-s&oh=00_AYA5kNS8UG9GCTh_kBhnPTKxytFfE47zUdoTbjBM0uCs-Q&oe=672FF66D	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,307,185	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	No	2024-11-05 06:39	active	1700	Vuelve conmigo, amor mío	Después de tres años de matrimonio, su marido rara vez volvía a casa. La única vez que tenía intimidad con ella era para complacer a los mayores. El día del difícil parto, su marido avión privado al extranjero con su amante. ¡Desconsolada, decidió divorciarse de él! ===== Joelle Miller examinó minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atención cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenía una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. Había descubierto que, en los días importantes, Nochebuena, San Valentín e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se había ausentado de todos esos días durante los últimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron más que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "¿Lo ven? Él siempre guarda para mí la parte más jugosa de una sandía". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "¡Y miren esta sorpresa! Recogió de la iglesia un amuleto de bendición para mí". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la única cuenta a la que Joelle seguía. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abrió. En la habitación poco iluminada apareció Adrian. Gotas de agua caían de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminación, sus atractivos rasgos permanecían intactos. Joelle cerró instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que lo vio. Esa noche él no estaba ahí por decisión propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como quería un bisnieto con desesperación, lo obligó a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabían que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirá si quedas earazada o no", declaró Adrian con una voz resonante. ¿Qué quería decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarró del tobillo y la atrajo hacia él. Joelle palideció ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensó de miedo. "¡Adrian! Basta, no quiero...". Empezó a luchar frenéticamente. Era una completa humillación verse obligada a vivir en esa situación con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, así que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguántalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lágrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneció a medida que la desesperación se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difícil es mucho más interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentó con rencor. Después de ducharse, se marchó sin mirar atrás, como si no quisiera quedarse más tiempo ahí. Joelle no entendía qué papel tenía en su vida. ¿Solo era un juguete para su placer? ¿O una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gélido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropó más con su manta. No solo temblaba de frío, sino que sentía su corazón desgarrado, ahora no conocía en absoluto al hombre que había adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrás, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebió demasiado. Cuando se despertó, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podía revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomó las riendas y organizó su matrimonio. Desde entonces, él estaba convencido de que Joelle lo había hecho a propósito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por más que creyera que lo había dgado. Después de todo, habían crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendía todo. Para él, ella no era más que la nefasta mujer que había saboteado su relación con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que él se veía en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostraría esa misma ternura. No pudo contener más las lágrimas y sucumbió a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos términos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantó inusualmente temprano. Después de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajó las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada doméstica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rápidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocía sus preferencias dietéticas. Joelle se tomó su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, ¿por qué anoche no convenció a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentó Leah con simpatía. Había sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que había visto cómo los dos se convertían de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostró incómoda, pero lo ocultó con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intenté, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, él tenía el corazón en otra parte. Más concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudó y agregó con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller está muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrás, le habían reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, así que entendía los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatía hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lágrimas debido a la tensión emocional. Sí, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenía tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia Redención en busca de un amuleto de bendición para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompió el silencio. Cuando Leah salió del comedor, Joelle agarró el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesó con voz ronca. Capítulo 2 En declive Joelle había tomado una decisión: quería el divorcio. No tenía sentido seguir alargándolo. Tras un silencio atónito, Katherine soltó una estridente carcajada. "¿Te quedarás con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ¡Oh, por Dios! ¡Joelle, te convertirás en una multimillonaria!". "No, no será así". Joelle había firmado un acuerdo cuando se casó con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibiría nada. "Entonces, ¿por qué te estás divorciando? ¡Tienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordó la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, así como la humillación posterior. Había sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por él la ayudaría a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabía que había sido una completa tonta. ¿El sufrimiento hacía que Adrian la amara más? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le haría sufrir. Joelle se rio de sí misma y cambió de tema: "Por cierto, ¿recuerdas el favor que te pedí?". "Sí, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violín, aunque debo decir que será un desperdicio de tu talento". "Está bien", respondió Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No será un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "¿Cómo que no será un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio…". Katherine se quedó en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. Después de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridículo. Hacía tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibían tocar en público. El primer día de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerá en todo lo que necesites. Tu único trabajo es tener bebés y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminó su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subió las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violín abandonado. Había sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco después de recibirlo, este sufrió un derrame cerebral y cayó en coma. Su hermano mayor terminó asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, así que la dejó perseguir su sueño de tocar el violín. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle movió el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrás, un accidente le había lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no había vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentía en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confió en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltó una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchó la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "¡Señor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavía se preocupaba por Joelle. Quizás si ella le decía algo amable, su relación podría mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venía a casa durante el día. Apenas había dejado el violín cuando se abrió la puerta. Ahí estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle había aprendido a tocar el violín cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la había elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razón, había dejado de tocar. Hacía un momento, la había escuchado desde afuera y le pareció una interpretación mediocre. ¿Cómo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo miró y bajó la cabeza para volver a guardar el violín en su estuche. "¿Qué te trae por aquí?", murmuró. "¿Necesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondió él fríamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el día. De no ser por esa obligación, Adrian no habría regresado. Irene se enfadaría si no iban juntos. Joelle sonrió con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplía. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podía encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tú tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondió. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezó a hervir dentro de él. Sin decir nada más, se dirigió al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque él no solía estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenía la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah también podía hacer. Su única ventaja, tal vez, era ser más joven y más guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. Tenía el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesó el corazón. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declaró con una voz tan suave como la brisa. Había agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintió extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la miró con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson está en declive. Sin mi apoyo, ¿vas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caída de la familia Watson, Joelle pasó de ser amada a quedar en ridículo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podían librarse. Incluso sus momentos íntimos con Adrian la hacían sentir degradada. Joelle se mordió el labio y se enderezó. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mío". Solo quería que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habían dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "¿Y de dónde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querías ser independiente, no deberías haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontró entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. Sí, había utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, ¿lo que era suyo no era también de él? Además, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les había dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendía a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre había despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con él era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejaría de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ¿Estaba sugiriendo que ella debía salir del matrimonio con las manos vacías? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legítimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mío. Pero no te preocupes, no pediré mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedó paralizado y su mirada se agudizó. Sus labios formaron una fina línea mientras apretaba la mandíbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se había preparado mentalmente, no podía soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponía más ansiosa. De repente, sonó el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacó de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "¡Adrian!". Capítulo 3 Siempre mantendré la cabeza en alto La frustración de Adrian crepitaba como estática. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "¡No se trata de eso!", replicó Joelle. La había malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazón latiendo con urgencia, corrió tras él. "¡Adrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejó de subir las escaleras y giró la cabeza. El celular en su mano había dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, ¿no se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntó burlonamente con una mirada gélida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, ¿por qué no se lo dices tú misma a la abuela? ¡No quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerró de golpe detrás de él, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisión. Joelle se apoyó contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizó al suelo. Una risa amarga emergió de sus labios. Irene había organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se había visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabía muy bien. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, lo más efectivo sería hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estúpida parte de ella se había aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo había mencionado primero a él, porque lo veía como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidó un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca había querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia había sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella había intentado pasarla por alto. Sus últimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, debería enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparó para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenía un vínculo muy especial con ella. En parte, había aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. Quería cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba más. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecía consumirla. Era consciente de que él no la amaba. ¡Nunca lo hizo y nunca lo haría! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonó su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "¿Shawn? ¿Qué ocurre?". "¡Señora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca había escuchado. Se le heló la s*gre y agarró el celular con más fuerza mientras permanecía en la escalera. "¿Dónde está mi hermano? ¿Qué le pasó?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistió a una reunión de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que biera. Supuestamente volvería a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistió en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedó congelada y la furia recorrió sus venas. "¿Erick no sabía que eso podría matarlo?". "¡Erick es un svergüenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chóferes de la familia Miller. ¡Señora Miller, tiene que venir rápido! El señor Watson está siendo operado y los médicos han emitido dos avisos de condición crítica. ¡No pude aguantar más, así que la llamé!". El asistente parecía estar al borde de las lágrimas. Joelle sabía que él no se habría puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situación fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la había protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrías que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debía estar en peligro. Joelle sintió como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formó en su garganta. Al bajar del último escalón, tropezó y se cayó con fuerza, torciéndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolvió a la realidad y las lágrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "¡Oh, no, señora Miller, tenga más cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corrió a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarró el brazo de Leah con la visión borrosa a causa de las lágrimas. Intentó hablar, pero las palabras le salían entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ¡Tengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintió su urgencia y respondió sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ¡Le pediré al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos después, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volvió hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazón de la criada se ablandó. Incluso con el rostro pálido y surcado de lágrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ¡Qué muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sé qué hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegó al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirófano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomó. Joelle se acercó y lo encontró arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en sgre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. Más tarde habría tiempo para eso. Cuando la condición de Shawn fue más estable, Joelle llevó al asistente a un lado. "Cuéntamelo todo. ¿Cómo ocurrió esto?". El asistente vaciló, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenó específicamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestión de vida o muerte. ¿Piensas que todavía es una opción no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondió el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea más llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn había luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrían desvanecido hacía mucho tiempo. Su deseo más profundo era que su hermana viviera cómodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecía por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguiría siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabía que no podía cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspiró profundamente y preguntó: "¿No mencionaron mi relación con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas más difíciles a usted". Joelle soltó una risa amarga. Jamás había estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podía soportarse a sí misma. Solo hacía una hora que le había pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligió personalmente. ¡Mientras sea la señora Miller, mantendré la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrás de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenía una sonrisa fría en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frágil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a él. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se había dado cuenta de que ella realmente no quería el divorcio. La mujer que había parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su título como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no había sido más que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacías. Era tan astuta que lo había d*gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tácticas tan engañosas, ¿cómo podría irse tan fácilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle sería una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciándose de él. Capítulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta Hacía mucho que Joelle se había vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. Observó sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordó los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ¡Qué pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeó. "¡Joelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, así que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozó una leve sonrisa. "¿Qué te trae al hospital?", preguntó mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicación de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "También vine a pedirte perdón, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "¿Descuidado?", replicó ella. "Tu hermano casi mta al mío, ¿y crees que una disculpa bastará para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeció y agarró la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondió él con una voz tan gélida como el invierno. "No fue a propósito". Luego, se volvió hacia Rebecca y agregó suavemente: "Vamos, ¿no viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendió todo. Había esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, había venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, sería por obligación, nada más. Pero sabía que no debía esperar que él la defendiera. "¡Rebecca, no olvidaré lo que hizo Erick!", espetó. Rebecca dobló las piernas y se desplomó sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapó justo a tiempo y la abrazó con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenía malas intenciones. ¡También está en el hospital!". "¿Ya está muerto? ¡Si no, tendrá que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solía arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la única familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperación, y su madre había fallecido en un accidente de tráfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habían sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentándose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos más oscuros, Shawn llevó sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasión por el violín. Ahora la idea de perderlo también a él era insoportable. Su único deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ¿cómo puedes decir eso?", sollozó Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijó su fría mirada en Joelle. "¿Qué deseas?". "Shawn recibió dos avisos de condición crítica. ¿Qué hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeó, su frágil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "¡Joelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ¡Por favor, ten compasión!". Se desmayó antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantó en sus brazos y le dio una última mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejó y la dejó clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareció una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, había sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtió en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que había sido. Ella solía ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sólo para complacer a su marido. ¡Qué patético! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? Los capítulos disponibles son limitados aquí, haga click el botón abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo más contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederá a este libro) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa	Mobo-Reader：Funny Reading		0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.manobook.com	IMAGE		https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1200042107899505&rawadid=120211265601860639	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464440938_1045689044023104_4314970394252343489_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8LxygNYIWTsQ7kNvgECyZEk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AdtIcu95_AJ-Ekm3uTmtkh6&oh=00_AYAMSDMjXvD5aHtUOlw6tpewjwq6hA1MRdBxrAizUs5o5Q&oe=672FFCBB	REGULAR_PAGE	0		1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,306,885	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2308789}'	No	2024-11-05 06:39	active	1700	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	290	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463384564_1258191665321352_3920804691950976922_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YQI2ZWnWsPEQ7kNvgGl9cGn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApQ3hPn5UUtxr1U_JHyBnYm&oh=00_AYCypFnm3wo9CX6i1nRN2KZ1B1-InslUBGuxt7LNPJ01ew&oe=672FFB55	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,304,618	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 06:24	active	1699	Free Worldwide Shipping!	Sip, spray, and stay refreshed on the move with the stylish 700ml Spray Water Bottle, your ultimate hydration companion! 💦👟	SHOP_NOW	https://fitfusionhub.co/products/spray-water-bottl	Fit Fusion Hub	https://www.facebook.com/shoproyalepaw/	60	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	fitfusionhub.co	VIDEO	⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5/5 Reviews!	https://fitfusionhub.co/products/spray-water-bottle	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/434184238_1072920160456235_24173197660041531_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dbmCN_S_v-UQ7kNvgGj-q_-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AYjR7hHNA2J4BeXTbRpm0xa&oh=00_AYC33BQj7_w_A9e54F455c7r8eFcz4XaYaH9ExKq27pR5A&oe=672FD4D8	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Royalepaw	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,302,656	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2302033}'	No	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697		🍁 Thanksgiving Giveaway – Let’s Make This Season Special! 🦃 As we gather to give thanks, I want to show my appreciation for YOU! I’m giving away a $50 gift card to Hy-Vee or Festival Foods to help make your Thanksgiving feast extra memorable. How to Enter: 1. Like this post ❤️ 2. Share it to spread the holiday cheer! 3. Tag who you’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving with 🧡 4. Follow my page for more caring giveaways! The contest starts today and ends on November 17th. I’ll announce the lucky winner on November 18th! Must be in Wisconsin. This giveaway is not affiliated with Facebook. 🍁 Sorteo de Acción de Gracias – ¡Hagamos esta temporada especial! 🦃 ¡Al reunirnos para dar gracias, quiero mostrar mi agradecimiento por TI! Estoy regalando una tarjeta de regalo de $50 para Hy-Vee o Festival Foods para que tu cena de Acción de Gracias sea aún más especial. Cómo participar: 1. Dale Me Gusta a esta publicación ❤️ 2. Compártela para compartir la alegría de la temporada! 3. Etiqueta a quien celebrará contigo 🧡 4. Sígueme para más sorteos llenos de cariño El sorteo comienza hoy y termina el 17 de noviembre. Anunciaré al afortunado ganador el 18 de noviembre. Debe vivir en Wisconsin. Este sorteo no está afiliado a Facebook. NMLS 1540067/Company NMLS 140031			Jolie Hayes-Cornerstone Mortgage, LLC	https://www.facebook.com/61555665880244/	86	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465544743_420502120923273_1468974627167158703_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NbxUBz_OQ8gQ7kNvgF9yxGb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ad2jB0QJHJG035sw15RMKzp&oh=00_AYBnOA7XM_Tvcvml3Sg4uGHYNDJlMlKU_EdGwdDVejsOnQ&oe=672FE336	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Jolie Hayes-Cornerstone Mortgage, LLC	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,302,470	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697		GIVEAWAY !!! ✨💕🦋🌈🎉☀️ . I'm so thankful for all of the support i've received since ive been back from maternity leave🥹💖✨ ! I've gotten to meet so many of you ! at markets or when you come by to pick up your order and we stay yapping for ever lol or just started following my acct. 💖✨🦋🎉 i appreciate you!! that's why I'm doing this give away a whole FIT ! just missing bottoms lol but hey you could pair it with anything <3 ✨ ✨ RULES ✨ 1. follow @wendys_vibrant_creations 2. like this post and share on your story (don’t forget to tag @wendys_vibrant_creations ) 3. tag 3 besties in the comments . . . GOODLUCK BESTIES !! ✨💖☀️🦋🌈🎉 . GIVEAWAY includes 1 Crewneck 1 Tote Bag 1 Glass Cup 1 Hair Clip ✨ ✨ WINNER WILL BE ANNOUNCED November 17 ✨💖🎉🎀🦋 . . free pick up 77017 TX small shipping fee , only in the US 📦 #giveaway #houston #borntoyap #wendysvibrantcreations #tx #goodluck	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/wendys_vibrant_creations	wendys_vibrant_creations	https://www.instagram.com/_u/wendys_vibrant_creations	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	IMAGE		http://instagram.com/wendys_vibrant_creations	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/446881394_411935288497097_5619207032882513210_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=h0exqux3tV8Q7kNvgH0Czby&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYBWjWfPgOa3RLJ0UY3re01W4MCFLJNsIjrqRqLFvQLlrw&oe=672FE93B	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	wendys_vibrant_creations	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,303,590	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 06:03	active	1698	Michael Kelly Patriot Decree Standard Electric Guitar - Cherry Sunburst - HR	Would you use this?	ORDER_NOW	http://www.homerecorder.com/product.php?pid=1822	Home Recorder	https://www.facebook.com/homerecorder/	57,407	1969-12-31 18:00	Order now	homerecorder.com	IMAGE	Michael Kelly Patriot Decree Standard Electric Guitar - Cherry Sunburst	http://www.homerecorder.com/product.php?pid=1822	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465658147_1214505689843897_7715643732296620579_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Qt_Y0WDKdzoQ7kNvgHThuNW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ar12wq_tY5a6AzPL4L_KGpY&oh=00_AYD4wjb2avQZoR7bRfX1svEq5ZDmYfgrOP7JaGcbf0xLEw&oe=672FC2CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Home Recorder	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,306,036	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2305474}'	No	2024-11-05 06:24	active	1699	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	💔My fated mate is my deceased sister’s boyfriend? The guy who accused me of killing my own sister and caused me to be tortured and shunned for 6 years? How could that be possible?	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/t39.35426-6/451059811_7988118437920781_7285605668614690812_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mnghO3zbabgQ7kNvgH--wws&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFgAFucLcwDv-6hQ0yXQ8p2&oh=00_AYDnYMuBgTfhuf-jpvetaqvVqdMtLA8xEmeQxWlUfJeM0Q&oe=672FE9C1	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,303,726	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-05 06:03	active	1698		Discover the beauty and vibrance of the ocean with our collectable pins inspired by coral reefs, designed by local artist Jack Kelly. Designed to capture the beauty of our magnificent underwater world.🐟🐠🐡 Our Coral Reef Collection is inspired by local reefs in the Florida keys and designed by local artist Jack Kelly. Own a piece of art that is wearable and will last! This collection is extremely vibrant and will inspire anyone to explore our local waterways. At Tru Island we have passion for the water and everything living in it! Help us keep our waterways clean. A portion of proceeds will go towards hosting and donating to beach clean ups in Florida. @jackkellyart @coralrestorationfoundation #art #collectibles #coralreef #flkeys #beach #island #deerfieldbeach #jackkelly #localart #islandlife	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/truislandco	TruIsland	https://www.facebook.com/100090523871133/	16	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	instagram.com	VIDEO		http://instagram.com/truislandco	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465457072_1025360452678726_6680061862203747071_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1o2akhgQ0YgQ7kNvgEqttqU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1Z9fVbuSe68FQs93Ejc9oe&oh=00_AYCH6TwnJBkgjDabxodacyWM7iHyHg-krbUYFUGZCm1Tdw&oe=672FDB47	PERSON_PROFILE	0	TruIsland	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,304,140	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2304137}'	No	2024-11-05 06:03	active	1698	Becki Guard- Kelly Davies Homes Team, LPT Realty	Thank you Zak and Sammie for the kind words. It was an absolute joy to go home shopping with you. Home buying CAN be a fun and exciting process. Let me help take some of the worries out of the process for you. I can be reached at 920.286.4076. Call me to schedule a showing for NE Wisconsin listings today.	CALL_NOW		Becki Guard- Kelly Davies Homes Team, LPT Realty	https://www.facebook.com/BeckiGuardKellyDaviesHomesTeam/	37	1969-12-31 18:00	Call now		IMAGE	Real Estate Agent		1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465693462_2509041969300206_1592433344989216439_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YxRLcrHJ1L8Q7kNvgF1qdRL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AQqoBloHe9dLh7if87nmr3j&oh=00_AYDlmVy1ggTbG_i68cUlsVdFzI4_AU0xgMiuoo932woE5A&oe=672FDA44	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Becki Guard- Kelly Davies Homes Team, LPT Realty	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,303,096	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2303091}'	No	2024-11-05 05:48	active	1697			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/sav_wareham_photo	sav_wareham_photo	https://www.instagram.com/_u/sav_wareham_photo	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/sav_wareham_photo	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/334271373_249713784050188_9125219573018112617_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=nSX3UKOut_wQ7kNvgGZDeT4&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYB40nksYIcKmGhWUdvUzwwfth-xM9KANE964OD4pT6aKA&oe=672FEDD3	IG_ADS_IDENTITY	1	sav_wareham_photo	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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