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Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Page Is Profile Page	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,520,965	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2520961}'	No	2024-11-24 18:33	active	1916	Last Chance Win Tickets To See Taylor Swift Live!	Last Chance - enter to win Taylor Swift grand finale tickets. 🎤 This is the grand finale, the very last show on Sunday, December 8th in Vancouver, BC. 🎤 Winner gets 2 Floor Seats: section B5, row 14 - arguably the best seats in the house and the experience of a lifetime. 💰 Each prize includes roundtrip airfare and lodging for 2, plus $500 cash. ✈️ Open to all US residents. The selected winners will be required to have valid documentation to travel to Vancouver, BC (valid passport, etc). 3 DAYS ONLY: Winner announced Monday, Nov 25! Seriously, this is only open for 72 hours 🤩🤩🤩 All entries fund sight saving research for children. No purchase or donation necessary. Void where prohibited. See official rules for details. Not endorsed or sponsored by Taylor Swift.	LEARN_MORE	https://araceagainstblindness.org/products/last-ch	A Race Against Blindness	https://www.facebook.com/a.race.against.blindness/	47,522	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	araceagainstblindness.org	IMAGE	Grand finale! One winner will receive 2 floor seats to Taylor Swift's final concert of the Eras Tour on Saturday, December 8th in Vancouver, BC. Grand Prize Package includes 2 floor seat tickets, roundtrip airfare, lodging, and $500 cash. See Official Rules for details!	https://araceagainstblindness.org/products/last-chance-tswift	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468007758_1586802435376606_7642118436110198905_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XJ2UXtZrYswQ7kNvgE_R4tP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5e-2IOLYwceSZFYz2qkyKU&oh=00_AYBXHo0DvcJywQtdn2WlV3BsdCvWpUEXvRIyyDgd71btGw&oe=67497ECE	PERSON_PROFILE	0	A Race Against Blindness	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,528,717	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":true,"simple_request_ratio":0.21451104100946372,"is_bh_selenium":null,"selenium_ratio":null,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	No	2024-11-24 19:59	active	1920	playstation 5 digital edition/WD_BLACK	playstation 5 digital edition/WD_BLACK - $500.00 1) PlayStation 5 Digital Edition https://a.co/d/1L6Mnmf 2)WD_BLACK 2TB SSD Officially Licensed Storage Expansion for PS5 Consoles, up to 7,300MB https://a.co/d/gZPFxrO 3)PS5 / PS5 Slim Stand and Cooling Station. https://a.co/d/0DjKSeY Everything together Asking Price is ( $500 - FIRM ). Facebook Marketplace	CONTACT_US	https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/170322171691	Eric Bonhomme	https://www.facebook.com/Eric-Bonhomme-137105809496176/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact us		IMAGE		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1703221716916610/	1969-12-31 18:00		REGULAR_PAGE	1	Eric Bonhomme	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,310	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524314}'	Yes	2024-11-24 19:03	active	1917	{{product.name}}	'Tis The Season 🎄 Our Holiday Headwear is Releasing Just in Time. Choose from Our Newest Designs including Naughty, Nice, Santa Skull, Cheers, and more Time to Bring in The Yuletide	SHOP_NOW	https://www.brandedbills.com/collections/holiday-c	Branded Bills	https://www.facebook.com/BrandedBills/	351,271	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	brandedbills.com	DCO	{{product.description}}	https://www.brandedbills.com/collections/holiday-collection	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467974645_1783729462452208_8951125700654488796_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zNHJ-2wobn4Q7kNvgHOmRxg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtiRy3BCD9YuUpwZzvZ-WY-&oh=00_AYCAxZsWJ43fu04r4ZLU1Vljae1goEyaLQn-1nZUJr0gAQ&oe=67498F75	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Branded Bills	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,565	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524836}'	No	2024-11-24 19:05	active	1919	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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 with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she 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." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, 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." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren 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 the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464198210_1335425697867830_3839403089342624662_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EBsfuLbjmDkQ7kNvgFTmsYj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Apq-W_ef3s5AtMTo5ZWFzxH&oh=00_AYCRqLvZc8e-ZEFw8zvusInwg2QhliFLwf7L3yCmneJHCQ&oe=67499680	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,529,105	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":true,"simple_request_ratio":0.2334384858044164,"is_bh_selenium":null,"selenium_ratio":null,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	Yes	2024-11-24 20:05	active	1920	Large 2 Dog Kennel Console new	Large 2 Dog Kennel Console new - $500.00 Brand new. Recently built double dog kennel for 2 large or medium size dogs. Measures 72” long, 24” deep, 29” tall. Solid bottom and removable divider. Facebook Marketplace	CONTACT_US	https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/862613099195	Corey Oergel	https://www.facebook.com/Corey-Oergel-369885423658123/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact us		IMAGE		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/862613099195408/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468325197_1079385216816874_2584292309279029947_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7AKiMVEpqVYQ7kNvgErIvDV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A_7yOYmYxCjBkz-2I8KBZn4&oh=00_AYCZ2gUjMDhTRxUbpLQtosKYob3x8SeQ3XboLQToHhfa6A&oe=6749A5ED	REGULAR_PAGE	1	Corey Oergel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,529,344	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2528172}'	No	2024-11-24 20:09	active	1920		🎉BLACK FRIDAY GIVEAWAY REVEAL #9 ‼️‼️GIVEAWAYS ALL DAY LONG ‼️‼️ Friday, November 29th, Doorbuster Deals will be having a HUGE event that you do not want to miss! 🛒🛒 We will be closed Thanksgiving day, which means all of our amazing items that are normally $10 on Thursday will be ONLY $8 on Black Friday! 🤑 🚨On top of that, we will be restocking the entire store EVERY SINGLE HOUR! 🚨🚨That’s not all! We will also be having huge GIVEAWAYS EVERY SINGLE HOUR! 🚨🚨🚨And lastly, we are offering 20% OFF our premium discount section at the front of the store on Black Friday ONLY! 🎉🎉The store will open at 7am with the first restock and giveaway at 8am and the last restock and giveaway at 7pm! The store will close at 8pm. 7337 W 25th St. North Riverside, Illinois.			Doorbuster Deals	https://www.facebook.com/DoorbusterDealsNR/	8,748	1969-12-31 18:00			VIDEO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468093860_2585845481610249_4284234893009229588_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5Yjbxqmo2oAQ7kNvgGgD03G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AO_C7KLFDcW0SYJ0W9HdajV&oh=00_AYAY-PmIqE-4YVsEwX24sDA2lsHI3TKaMbK6UJ3GpiI5SA&oe=6749906D	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Doorbuster Deals	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,523,086	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2523087}'	No	2024-11-24 18:52	active	1917			LEARN_MORE	http://thelements.com/	ThElèments	https://www.facebook.com/thelementscollection/	1	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thelements.com	CAROUSEL		http://thelements.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468425386_1667935130511115_415573024012485667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=f6U1tMn6qLQQ7kNvgH9fIUy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Anlvxb2VvDat_WVJKI631Jh&oh=00_AYD3NSAtRp8mtqpp5vHMzc1UKBm0M1wGsAiOs5n0kpQlVA&oe=67498791	PERSON_PROFILE	0	ThElèments	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,525,413	/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}'	Yes	2024-11-24 19:18	active	1919	Читать следующую главу👉	Когда она узнала, что незнакомый мужчина, с которым она провела свою первую брачную ночь, оказался ее законным мужем по договоренности, она сошла с ума! ===== Камилла Петрова сегодня вышла замуж. К несчастью для неё, жениха нигде не было видно. Она оглядела пустую комнату, и её лицо стало белым, словно простыня. Она чувствовала себя совершенно униженной. Камилла не желала терпеть это оскорбление! Но что она могла поделать? С самого рождения все аспекты её жизни контролировались другими людьми. Само собой разумеется, это касалось и её замужества. Камиллу принудил к этому союзу отец, человек, которым управляла жадность. Её дедушка работал шофёром у Родиона Новикова, главы могущественной семьи Новиковых. По досадной случайности они попали в ужасную аварию, в которой дед Камиллы погиб, спасая Родиона. В последние месяцы небольшая компания, которой управляла её семья, везде и всюду погрязла в огромных долгах. Они находились на грани банкротства. Несмотря на это, её хитрый отец отказался просить помощи у семьи Новиковых, зная, что это отменит долг, который они должны были семье Петровых. Вместо этого он придумал план, согласно которому внук Родиона, Виталий Новиков, женится на Камилле. Учитывая богатство семьи Новиковых, они были уверены, что те дадут большие деньги в обмен на руку и сердце Камиллы. И, в качестве дополнительного бонуса, они, наконец, установили бы более прочную связь с семьёй Новиковых, которая была бы законно скреплена. Разумеется, семья Новиковых не могла позволить себе отказаться от этого предложения, иначе они рисковали потерять лицо в том или ином случае. Виталий решил выразить своё недовольство всем этим, не явившись на банкет, хотя на нём не присутствовало никого, кроме членов семей. Он также отказал Камилле в использовании фамилии Новиковых и запретил ей говорить людям, что она его жена. На протяжении всего этого, от начала и до конца, никто не потрудился спросить мнение самой Камиллы. Сейчас она стоит с прямой спиной и расправленными плечами. Её ресницы, возможно, слегка дрожали, но в глазах читалось упрямство. Она не собиралась поддаваться унижению. Но как ей следует поступить? В то время, когда девушка размышляла о том, как проведёт первую брачную ночь, она получила сообщение от одной из своих коллег. Женщина просила Камиллу подменить её на ночной смене. Та не стала долго раздумывать. Она вышла из зала и вызвала такси, чтобы отправиться в больницу. Мгновением позже она оказалась в комнате отдыха персонала больницы, проверяя записи пациентов, а её вечернее платье давно сменилось белым лабораторным халатом. Внезапно дверь с громким стуком распахнулась с внешней стороны и ударилась о стену. Не успела Камилла поднять глаза, чтобы взглянуть, что происходит, как дверь снова захлопнулась. Затем она услышала щелчок выключателя, и в помещении стало темно. По её спине пробежал холодок. «Кто...» Не успела она договорить, как её толкнули на стол. Куча канцелярских принадлежностей упала на пол, и в этот момент она почувствовала, как к её шее прижался холодный острый кай нжа. «Тихо!» - свирепо прошептал нападавший. Девушка едва могла разглядеть лицо мужчины, хотя его глаза выделялись. Они мерцали в тусклом свете, его взгляд был полон бдительности. В воздухе вокруг них витал знакомый запах железа, и она поняла, что этот человек ранен. Благодаря многолетнему обучению и опыту врача, Камилла смогла сохранить спокойствие. Затем она медленно согнула одну ногу, планируя атаковать мужчину коленом. Но тот видел её насквозь. Как только он почувствовал её движение, то с силой сжал её ноги вместе и прижал к столу своими мощными бёдрами. Вдруг в коридоре послышался шум шагов. Они направлялись прямо в комнату отдыха персонала. «Быстрее, я видела, как он шёл сюда!» Достаточно было одного крика о помощи, и эти люди ворвались бы в комнату. Отчаявшись, мужчина опустил голову и по*ловал Камиллу. Она стала бороться и была удивлена тем, что смогла легко оттолкнуть его. Тем более, что мужчина больше не угрожал ей нжом. Мысли девушки заметались. В этот момент тот, кто находился по ту сторону двери, схватился за ручку. Приняв решение, Камилла притянула мужчину к себе и обвила руками его шею. На этот раз она половала его. «Я могу вам помочь», - пробормотала она под нос, надеясь, что её страх не был заметен. Мужчина шумно сглотнул. Ему потребовалась секунда, чтобы принять решение, затем она почувствовала его горячее дыхание у своего уха: «Я возьму на себя ответственность за это». Его голос был низким и притягательным. Но он, похоже, неправильно понял. Она хотела, чтобы всё это было притворством. Он не должен был ни за что брать ответственность. В следующую секунду дверь снова распахнулась. Камилла и мужчина тут же слились в очередном полуе. Несмотря на их затруднительное положение, мужчина обнаружил, что его тело среагировало на звук. Он мог бы потеряться в нём, если бы люди за дверью не заговорили. «Чрт взьми! Да это же просто цующаяся парочка. Чувак, они и вправду занимаются этим в больнице. Имейте хоть немного приличия!» Свет из коридора проникал в комнату, обнажая пару. Однако тело мужчины было обхвачено Камиллой, скрывая его лицо от любопытных глаз незваных гостей. «Что ж, это точно не Виталий. Этот ублюдок тяжело ранен. Неважно, насколько соблазнительна женщина, я сомневаюсь, что у него хватит сил сделать с ней что-нибудь». «Но, чувак, эта женщина издаёт довольно приятные звуки, а?» «Заткнись и пошевеливайся! Нам нужно найти Виталия как можно скорее, иначе мы потеряем головы!» Послышался шорох и топот ног, и мужчины бросились прочь, а дверь вернулась в своё исходное положение. Мужчина знал, что его преследователи ушли, но осознание того, что теперь они остались одни, подействовало на его самообладание. Он просто сорвался, и неожиданная волна поти захлестнула его. Этот поток же*ния не обошёл стороной и Камиллу. Возможно, дело было в их близости, или в том, как интимно они касались друг друга, а может быть, во внезапном приливе адреналина, но на поверхность поднялась бунтарская жилка, о которой она даже не подозревала. До этого момента девушка жила серой однообразной жизнью, всегда подчиняясь правилам и планам, установленным для неё другими. На этот раз - хотя бы раз - она собиралась побаловать себя. Девушка отбросила свои запреты и предоставила мужчине свободу действий, чтобы он делал всё, что захочет. Когда они закончили, мужчина нежно поцеловал её в щёку. «Я приду за тобой», - прошептал он, в его голосе всё ещё слышались отголоски наслаждения. А затем он ушёл, так же внезапно, как и пришёл. Прошло немало времени, прежде чем Камилла смогла подняться на ноги. Тишину в комнате нарушил звонок её телефона. Она огляделась и обнаружила, что он лежит на краю стола. Камилла схватила телефон, пока он не упал, и нажала на кнопку ответа. «Доктор! - раздался взволнованный голос. -В центр неотложной помощи только что привезли пациента. Он попал в аварию и получил серьёзные травмы. Нам нужно, чтобы вы немедленно оказали ему помощь!» Камилла прочистила горло, чтобы голос звучал ровно: «Хорошо, я буду через минуту». Она положила трубку и направилась к двери, но остановилась на пороге. Она оглядела себя. Она и вправду занялась сксом с незнакомцем в свою брачную ночь. Это был самый возмутительный поступок в её жизни! Но сейчас было не время праздновать свой поступок или размышлять о его последствиях. Камилла привела себя в порядок и отправилась в центр экстренной помощи. Весь остаток ночи она была занята работой. Когда она наконец освободилась, уже близился рассвет. Вернувшись в комнату отдыха персонала, она обнаружила, что в комнате было всё так же грязно. Руки девушки сжались в кулаки, а в голове пронеслись воспоминания о бурном прошлой ночью. «Спасибо, что подменила меня, доктор Петрова», - коллега Камиллы, Яна Агафонова, вошла с благодарной улыбкой. Та выдавила из себя улыбку: «Пожалуйста». «Дальше я справлюсь сама. Тебе следует вернуться и немного отдохнуть, - Яна посмотрела на бумаги, разбросанные по полу, и приподняла брови. - Что здесь произошло? Почему всё валяется на полу?» Камила в панике отвела глаза и ответила: «Ой, я случайно уронила их. Пожалуйста, приберись здесь. Я устала, поэтому пойду». Яне показался странным ответ Камиллы, но она не придала этому значения. Они попрощались, и женщина принялась собирать разбросанные вещи. Она едва успела начать, как в дверях появился сам директор больницы, а за ним - помощник Виталия. Глава 2 Чувство вины «Это врач, дежурившая вчера вечером, - сказал директор больницы. - Доктор Яна Агафонова». Ассистент Виталия, Денис Орлов, вошёл в комнату и посмотрел на табличку с именем на лабораторном халате Яны. «Пойдёмте со мной». Яна была в замешательстве. «Куда мы идём?» Но директор больницы не захотел отвечать на её вопрос. Он с силой потянул её за руку и сказал: «Просто пойдёмте. Не заставляйте господина Новикова ждать». Вскоре она оказалась в кабинете директора больницы. Виталий сидел на диване, его худощавое и мускулистое тело откинулось назад в непринуждённой позе, а длинные ноги были скрещены перед ним. Нужно было иметь острый глаз и присмотреться повнимательнее, чтобы понять, что его губы были бледнее обычного. К счастью, резкий запах дезинфицирующего средства, которым были пропитаны стены больницы, скрывал запах кви на его коже. Он был одет в чистый чёрный костюм, который также помог скрыть красные пятна, в противном случае встревожившие бы всех окружающих. В его выражении лица чувствовалась жёсткость, которая так и говорила, будто он побывал в самом аду, и что с ним не стоит шутить. Денис подошёл к дивану и наклонился поближе, чтобы прошептать Виталию на ухо: «Видеозаписи с камер наблюдения прошлой ночи были намеренно подделаны, скорее всего, это сделали ваши нападавшие. Они подчистили следы и убрали все возможные улики. Это доктор Яна Агафонова, дежурившая прошлой ночью. Директор больницы сам подтвердил это. Я также перепроверил записи. Это действительно она». Только тогда Виталий поднял глаза. У Яны резко перехватило дыхание и она поняла, что перед ней сам босс корпорации «Парамаунт». «Вы тот человек, который помог мне прошлой ночью?» - спросил Виталий, оглядывая её с головы до ног. Яна тут же пригнула голову, не решаясь встретиться с грозным взглядом мужчины. «Да... Э-это была я», - она не совсем понимала, о чём идёт речь, но знала, что в её интересах войти в доверие к Виталию Новикову. Выгода не заставит себя ждать. Так случилось, что в Центральном военном госпитале собирались отобрать кандидатов для прохождения практики. И хотя это было обозначено как таковое, все в этой отрасли знали, что интерны в конечном итоге будут приняты на работу и доживут до конца своей карьеры в этом учреждении. Если уж на то пошло, Центральный военный госпиталь имел доступ к ресурсам, которые были намного лучше, чем в этой больнице. Яна планировала подружиться с Виталием в надежде использовать его связи, чтобы попасть в лучшую больницу. «Я могу компенсировать тебе всем, чем ты захочешь, даже браком», - внезапно прервал её мысли холодный голос Виталия. Его лицо оставалось отстранённым, но мысль о вчерашней ночи смягчила жёсткую линию его рта. «Что ж... Я...» - это было настолько неожиданно, чем Яна могла себе представить, что она с трудом могла подобрать слова. «Приходи ко мне, как только примешь решение», - встал Виталий и жестом попросил Дениса дать ей свой контактный телефон. Директор больницы поспешил и предложил Виталию проводить его к выходу. «В этом нет необходимости», - отказался тот, и всё его поведение снова стало холодным. Затем он остановился, как будто его кое-что осенило. Он обернулся к директору и сказал: «Пожалуйста, позаботьтесь о ней». «Конечно», - заверил его директор больницы с вежливой улыбкой. Убедившись, что они находятся вне пределов слышимости, Денис подошёл к Виталию. «Начальник, - обратился он тихим, но настоятельным голосом, - вы ведь уже женаты. Я не думаю, что брак является приемлемым вариантом для госпожи Агафоновой. Вам следует отказаться от этого предложения». Губы Виталия дёрнулись при упоминании о его браке, а лицо ещё больше помрачнело, когда он подумал о женщине, на которой его заставили жениться. «Тебе что, жить надоело?» - пригрозил он своему помощнику. Тот понял, что сказал то, чего не следовало, и тут же задрожал. В этот момент он не знал, кто больше всего злит его босса - новая невеста или человек, стоящий за вчерашним нападением. Тем временем Камилла вернулась на виллу, которую должна была делить с мужем. Экономка средних лет, Виктория Романова, встретила её в фойе, на её лице было написано беспокойство. «Почему вас не было вчера вечером, госпожа?» «Я должна была подменить коллегу», - ответила та. Её глаза были покрасневшими и слезились от усталости. Увидев это, Виктория решила не настаивать на своём. Камилла поднялась наверх и погрузилась в ванну. Её мысли невольно вернулись к предыдущей ночи, и она почувствовала, как её щёки начали гореть. Она вздохнула и погрузилась в воду, как бы спасаясь от тревожных воспоминаний. Её чувства по этому поводу были смешанными, и она не знала, с чего начать. Она даже не представляла, что это был за человек. Более того, она теперь была замужем. От этой мысли она почувствовала вину. Несмотря на обстоятельства, которые привели их к нынешнему положению, факт оставался фактом: она и Виталий являются мужем и женой. Камилла вышла из ванны, оделась и снова приготовилась к выходу. Как только она спустилась вниз, Виктория тут же засуетилась вокруг неё: «Вы опять уходите так скоро? Почему бы вам сначала не позавтракать?» Та посмотрела на время. «Нет, я опоздаю на работу». Виктория знала, что Камилла врач, поэтому она понимала, что для этой молодой девушки является нормой проводить на работе неумеренное количество времени. Тогда она протянула ей стакан молока: «Выпейте хотя бы это. Осторожно, оно горячее». «Спасибо», - тихо произнесла девушка, согретая заботой экономки. «Не за что», - любезно улыбнулась экономка. Возможно, этот брак и был вынужденным, но она достаточно хорошо знала, что нельзя смотреть на Камиллу свысока. Даже без титула жены Виталия Новикова Камилла - профессиональный врач, и это делает её более чем достойной уважения. Допив молоко, Камилла вернула стакан Виктории и направилась к выходу. Однако она не пошла сразу в комнату отдыха персонала. Она вышла из дома пораньше, потому что ей нужно было зайти в стационар. Её мать была помещена в отделение интенсивной терапии. Камилла молча вошла в палату и проверила состояние матери. Женщина по-прежнему находилась в плохом состоянии. Сердце девушки заныло. Её мать страдала от сердечной недостаточности и находилась в критическом состоянии. Единственным способом сохранить жизнь матери была пересадка сердца, которая, естественно, обошлась бы в целое состояние. Основной причиной, по которой Камилла согласилась на брак, было то, что её отец угрожал удержать деньги, необходимые для операции. Теперь, когда она вышла замуж, как того требовал её отец, всё, что им было нужно, это найти подходящего донора сердца. Камилла бросила горький взгляд на мать: «Мама, я тебя вылечу. Я обещаю». Её мать была самым близким человеком, её главной поддержкой и надёжным доверенным лицом. Неожиданно зазвонил телефон. Девушка достала телефон из кармана и ответила на звонок. «Мила, - раздался мужской голос. - Мне нужно, чтобы ты оказала мне одну услугу». Глава 3 Частный пациент Камилле позвонил Фёдор Фальков. Они учились в одном медицинском университете, хотя он был на два года старше её. Затем он уехал за границу, чтобы продолжить обучение, и теперь был известным экспертом в своей области. Фёдор всегда хорошо заботился о Камилле, поэтому они были довольно близки. «О какой услуге идёт речь?» - прямо спросила Камилла. «У меня есть пациент, нуждающийся в лечении, однако у меня появилось неотложное дело, и я не думаю, что смогу заняться этим в ближайшее время. Пожалуйста, возьми пациента под своё крыло», - попросил Фёдор. Камила взглянула на своё расписание. Сегодня у неё не было дел в офисе, и, если не считать двух операций, запланированных на полдень, она была практически свободна. «Да, конечно. Куда мне подъехать?» - спросила Камилла. «Я напишу тебе адрес. Когда доберёшься туда, просто скажи охранникам, что ты приехала к господину Калашникову, и они обо всём позаботятся», - ответил Фёдор. «Договорились», - ответила девушка. «Ещё кое-что, - добавил Фёдор, и его тон стал серьёзным. - Никогда никому об этом не говори и не задавай лишних вопросов. Всё, что тебе нужно сделать, это вылечить пациента». «Ясно. Не волнуйся», - ответила Камилла. Они попрощались, и Камилла вызвала такси, чтобы добраться к пациенту. Место оказалось в престижном районе, заполненном виллами, оснащёнными системами безопасности высшего уровня. Как и ожидалось, на входе девушка столкнулась с суровой охраной. Камилла последовала инструкциям и упомянула господина Калашникова. Сделав звонок, чтобы убедиться в правдивости её слов, охранник пригласил Камиллу внутрь. Девушка легко нашла виллу. Она поднялась по ступенькам и позвонила в дверь. Через несколько секунд дверь открылась. Казалось, что ситуация действительно была срочной. Денис нахмурился. Они ждали Фёдора, но вместо этого на пороге оказалась незваная гостья. «Простите, вы…» - начала девушка. Из указаний Фёдора Камилла уже сделала вывод, что этот пациент ценит своё личное пространство, и чтобы избежать неприятностей, она сочла разумным надеть маску. Безопасность была в приоритете. «Доктор Фальков попросил меня приехать сюда», - сказала Камилла. Денис мельком взглянул на аптечку, которую она держала: «Вы знаете, что делать?» «Да, доктор Фальков дал мне инструкции. Я сохраню всё в строгой конфиденциальности», - ответила девушка. Денис знал, что Фёдор не передал бы свои обязанности тому, кто не заслуживает доверия или некомпетентен, поэтому утвердительно кивнул и впустил Камиллу. Он провёл её мимо роскошной гостиной, затем вверх по лестнице в спальню. В комнате было темно. «Как я буду проводить лечение без света?» - спросила Камилла. Когда Виталий услышал женский голос, то поспешно схватил свой пиджак и натянул его на лицо. «Включи свет», - приказал он сквозь ткань. Денис щёлкнул выключателем, и комнату залил яркий свет. Первой мыслью Камиллы было то, что голос пациента был довольно знакомым, однако она отмахнулась от этих мыслей. Она увидела человека, лежащего на кровати, чья белая парадная рубашка была в пятнах давно засохшей крови. Камилла не хотела вдаваться в подробности и решила сосредоточиться на ранах. Мужчина явно не хотел выдавать свою личность, поэтому девушка естественным образом уважала его границы и вела себя прилично. Она поставила свою аптечку на тумбочку и достала хирургические инструменты. Камилла ножницами разрезала рубашку пациента, обнажив его раны, которые были покрыты тонким слоем марли. Она убрала всё и, наконец, увидела две зияющие раны на правой стороне торса мужчины. Камилла начала лечение, обработав раны своими ловкими руками. Всё это время она оставалась спокойной, а её движения были быстрыми и эффективными. «Есть ли у вас аллергия на анестезию?» - спросила она через некоторое время. К счастью, раны были неглубокие и повредили лишь небольшую часть кожи, однако требовалось хирургическое вмешательство. Процесс требовал применения местной анестезии. Камилла говорила спокойно, почти тихо, что резко контрастировало с её безумным голосом прошлой ночью. Поэтому, несмотря на обмен несколькими словами, Виталий совсем не узнал её. «Нет», - сказал он своим обычным холодным голосом, про себя восхваляя её профессионализм. Камилла приступила к приготовлению анестезии, а затем ввела её в область вокруг ран. Им пришлось подождать пару минут, пока началось действие препарата, после чего она наложила швы. Примерно через час Камилла наконец закончила. В целом, лечение прошло быстро и успешно. Камилла посмотрела на свои оквавленные руки и сказала: «Мне нужно в уборную». «Вы можете использовать ту, что внизу», - ответил Денис. Камилла поспешно покинула спальню. Убедившись, что девушка вернулась на первый этаж, Денис закрыл дверь и поспешил к Виталию. «Я узнал, что бандиты, напавшие на вас вчера, подосланы Артёмом. Он, вероятно, отчаянно хочет избавиться от вас, особенно после того, как вы вычислили его шпионов в вашей компании», - сказал Денис. Виталий застонал от боли, усаживаясь, а затем подтянулся к краю кровати и опустил ноги на пол. Он выглядел слабым, но его глаза вспыхнули опасным блеском. Мужчина перевёл пронзительный взгляд на своего помощника. «Эта женщина, на которой я был вынужден жениться, имеет какое-либо отношение к Артёму?» - спросил он. Денис понизил голос: «На самом деле, Артём связался с вашим тестем, Мироном. Он стремился выдать свою дочь замуж за члена семьи Новиковых, но, похоже, никогда не рассматривал вашего кузена Илью, как подходящего кандидата. Должно быть, Артём договорился с ним». «Он не перестаёт меня удивлять каждый день. С моей стороны будет не вежливо промолчать в ответ», - сказал Виталий. За время отсутствия Виталия, в городе произошло много событий, в которых был замешан Илья. «Я слышал, что у Ильи есть захудалый бар "Шарм" на улице Арбатская», - протянул Виталий. Денис всё понял с полуслова. «Да, поскольку шпионов выгнали из компании, этот клуб стал их единственным источником дохода, и если его закроют, то им придётся довольно туго», - сказал Денис. «Помоги им в этом», - сказал Виталий, и его голос стал на октаву ниже. Денис столкнулся с Камиллой, когда спускался вниз. Он предположил, что Фёдор проинструктировал девушку заранее, однако решил немного её напугать для большего эффекта: «Если вы расскажете об этом кому-нибудь, вас настигнет ужасная смерть», - сказал он. Если слух о травмах Виталия дойдёт до Артёма или его сына Ильи, они обязательно повернут это в свою пользу. Камилла кивнула: «Я сохраню это в тайне. Я только возьму свою аптечку и немедленно уйду». Когда девушка вернулась в спальню, то обнаружила мужчину, стоящего у окна напротив двери. Он стоял к ней спиной, однако девушка могла рассмотреть его широкие плечи и мускулистую спину. Его тело было стройным, просто идеальным. «Вы разве не ушли?» - спросил мужчина насмешливым голосом. Он не обернулся, но каким-то образом понял, что она смотрит на него. Возможно, он почувствовал её горячий взгляд. Камилла смущённо опустила голову. Как бы ей не хотелось это признавать, но этот мужчина заинтересовал её. Глава 4 Стажировка Камилла, опустив голову, торопливо взяла свою аптечку. Прочистив горло, она дала мужчине несколько указаний. Как бы там ни было, она всё же была врачом. «Вам нельзя пока мочить свои раны. Дезинфицируйте их раз в день и носите свободные рубашки, чтобы не раздражать раны». Она поставила бутылочку с таблетками и тюбик с мазью на тумбочку. «Я оставляю вам эти лекарства». Виталий что-то пробормотал в знак признательности, но не обернулся. Камилла тоже больше ничего не сказала и сразу же покинула виллу. Когда она вернулась в больницу, было уже почти одиннадцать дня. Она направилась в столовую, чтобы перекусить. Едва устроившись за своим столом, её вызвали в кабинет главврача. «Я отправляю Яну в Центральный военный госпиталь на стажировку», - сказал главврач тоном, не терпящим возражений. Камилла была потрясена и сказала: «Но я думала, что вы уже решили отправить меня?» «Камилла, я уверен, что ты знаешь о том, что всё высокотехнологичное оборудование нашей больницы спонсировалось корпорацией "Парамаунт". Президент Новиков лично попросил меня позаботиться о Яне. Я не могу позволить себе пойти против его воли». Камилла ощетинилась при упоминании имени Виталия. Хотя они и были официально женаты, но они никогда не встречались. Она видела мужчину только в журналах и иногда в новостях по телевизору. Значит, он и Яна? Сердце Камиллы ёкнуло, но она оставалась спокойной. «Вот как?» «Да, боюсь, у меня связаны руки. Послушай, Камилла, мы оба знаем о твоих способностях, но...» - главврач хотел успокоить девушку, но не знал, как. Камилла выделялась среди своих сверстников благодаря невероятному таланту и профессиональной этике. Главврач ценил её больше всех остальных. «Я понимаю», - пробормотала Камилла себе под нос. Девушка говорила себе, что она была не в том положении, чтобы расстраиваться из-за вмешательства Виталия. Он был вынужден жениться на ней, и, естественно, она не могла рассчитывать на то, что он будет заботиться о ней. «Мне ещё нужно подготовиться к операции, так что я пойду», - смиренным голосом сказала девушка. Камилла понимала, что ничего не может сделать, чтобы изменить ситуацию. Главврач просто вздохнул и смотрел, как она уходит. Камилла с энтузиазмом погрузилась в работу, пытаясь не думать о стажировке. Она без заминки провела свою вторую операцию, затем сняла свою хирургическую форму и, посмотрев вверх, устало плюхнулась на стул. Именно в этот момент в гостиную вошла Яна и сказала: «Здравствуй, Камилла, - поприветствовала она, ярко улыбаясь. - Ты свободна вечером? Позволь угостить тебя ужином». «Извини, но у меня есть дела, с которыми нужно разобраться позже», - вежливо отказалась Камилла. Девушка не была в хороших отношениях с Яной. Они были просто коллегами, а не подругами. Обе окончили один и тот же университет в одно и то же время. Ещё тогда Яна была той ещё штучкой. Она была очень амбициозной и всегда хотела покрасоваться и привлекать всеобщее внимание. Камилла, в свою очередь, предпочитала оставаться незаметной и была погружена в свои книги. Можно сказать, что девушки были абсолютно разными. Понятное дело, что они не очень хорошо ладили. «О, очень жаль, - сказала Яна, выглядя почему-то смущённой. - Вообще-то я хотела с тобой кое о чём поговорить». Камилла встала и подошла к своему шкафчику, чтобы повесить халат. «Говори», - сказала она, не глядя на Яну. Тот факт, что её коллега так или иначе связалась с Виталием, ещё больше отдалил Камиллу от Яны. «Ты, должно быть, слышала, да? Мне очень жаль. Я понятия не имела, что директор…» «Всё в порядке», - перебила Камилла. Однако Яна ещё не всё сказала и продолжила: «И ещё, можешь сохранить в секрете то, что вчера вечером ты вышла на смену вместо меня? Знаешь, поскольку я собираюсь в Центральный военный госпиталь, я не хочу, чтобы это причинило какие-либо проблемы». Несмотря на то, что просьба Яны была необычной, Камилла не думала об этом и ответила: «Я никому не скажу». В любом случае, не было ничего странного в том, чтобы взять на себя смену коллеги. Время от времени им приходилось сталкиваться с личными чрезвычайными обстоятельствами. На территории больницы. Фёдор сидел на заднем сиденье дорогой чёрной машины, которая была припаркована у ворот. «Ну, - сказал он голосом, переполненным гордостью, - что думаешь о моей ученице? У неё отличные способности, не так ли?» Рядом с мужчиной сидел Виталий, откинувшись на спинку сиденья. Он снова подумал о враче, который лечил его, и вспомнил, какими спокойными и точными были её действия. На самом деле, мужчина был поражен её способностями. «Это госпожа Волкова», - вдруг заговорил Денис. Виталий опустил стекло как раз в тот момент, когда Яна подошла к машине. Брови Фёдора поднялись, и он сказал: «Яна?» Денис обернулся с водительского места и спросил: «Вы знаете её?» Фёдор кивнул, его взгляд заблестел от любопытства. «Она была студенткой на год младше в моём университете». Виталию стало любопытно, когда он услышал это. Значит, эта девушка не только спасла его прошлой ночью, но и залечила его раны? «Это судьба?» - воскликнул Денис. Вселенная наконец решила дать его боссу шанс на любовь? «Какого чёрта ты несёшь?» - спросил Фёдор, нахмурившись, переводя взгляд с одного мужчины на другого. ...... Что будет дальше? Количество глав здесь ограничено, нажмите на кнопку ниже, чтобы установить приложение и продолжить чтение более захватывающих глав! (Вы будете автоматически перенаправлены на книгу, когда откроете приложение) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-	Lime novel	https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/	896	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.litradnovie.com	VIDEO		https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381651670790	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466001891_877815764543832_1007746490854898388_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3htLvjb64LoQ7kNvgE34pIf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7-l3pYkqCcGzNWRNcatQqd&oh=00_AYBvtSITeNx9TNXZL71ZPbHjEfVe3u-ro1JqPeZmUxfxCA&oe=6749AD63	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Lime novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,419	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2525505}'	No	2024-11-24 19:04	active	1919	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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 with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she 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." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, 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." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren 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 the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	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2,523,996	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524447}'	No	2024-11-24 19:00	active	1919	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=b9aPlpllTVUQ7kNvgGedOnL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=At-52rFSmlbTm9ybhhHc7yh&oh=00_AYB4RdK7Dx0d6gXami3DaFVaY3KCb1jxa_Zr1At8n99awA&oe=6749973B	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,954	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524836}'	No	2024-11-24 19:11	active	1919	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	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 with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she 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." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, 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." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren 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 the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	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/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ekn73mAbfKUQ7kNvgGGGiJA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6Wk4W6rSKexRJKU2T1fHMP&oh=00_AYAVg0ELIL5kZrwmw6MRjrc2QtM5jErfh35YSAwAraaE3A&oe=674994B5	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,525,340	/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}'	Yes	2024-11-24 19:17	active	1919	Читать следующую главу👉	Когда она узнала, что незнакомый мужчина, с которым она провела свою первую брачную ночь, оказался ее законным мужем по договоренности, она сошла с ума! ===== Камилла Петрова сегодня вышла замуж. К несчастью для неё, жениха нигде не было видно. Она оглядела пустую комнату, и её лицо стало белым, словно простыня. Она чувствовала себя совершенно униженной. Камилла не желала терпеть это оскорбление! Но что она могла поделать? С самого рождения все аспекты её жизни контролировались другими людьми. Само собой разумеется, это касалось и её замужества. Камиллу принудил к этому союзу отец, человек, которым управляла жадность. Её дедушка работал шофёром у Родиона Новикова, главы могущественной семьи Новиковых. По досадной случайности они попали в ужасную аварию, в которой дед Камиллы погиб, спасая Родиона. В последние месяцы небольшая компания, которой управляла её семья, везде и всюду погрязла в огромных долгах. Они находились на грани банкротства. Несмотря на это, её хитрый отец отказался просить помощи у семьи Новиковых, зная, что это отменит долг, который они должны были семье Петровых. Вместо этого он придумал план, согласно которому внук Родиона, Виталий Новиков, женится на Камилле. Учитывая богатство семьи Новиковых, они были уверены, что те дадут большие деньги в обмен на руку и сердце Камиллы. И, в качестве дополнительного бонуса, они, наконец, установили бы более прочную связь с семьёй Новиковых, которая была бы законно скреплена. Разумеется, семья Новиковых не могла позволить себе отказаться от этого предложения, иначе они рисковали потерять лицо в том или ином случае. Виталий решил выразить своё недовольство всем этим, не явившись на банкет, хотя на нём не присутствовало никого, кроме членов семей. Он также отказал Камилле в использовании фамилии Новиковых и запретил ей говорить людям, что она его жена. На протяжении всего этого, от начала и до конца, никто не потрудился спросить мнение самой Камиллы. Сейчас она стоит с прямой спиной и расправленными плечами. Её ресницы, возможно, слегка дрожали, но в глазах читалось упрямство. Она не собиралась поддаваться унижению. Но как ей следует поступить? В то время, когда девушка размышляла о том, как проведёт первую брачную ночь, она получила сообщение от одной из своих коллег. Женщина просила Камиллу подменить её на ночной смене. Та не стала долго раздумывать. Она вышла из зала и вызвала такси, чтобы отправиться в больницу. Мгновением позже она оказалась в комнате отдыха персонала больницы, проверяя записи пациентов, а её вечернее платье давно сменилось белым лабораторным халатом. Внезапно дверь с громким стуком распахнулась с внешней стороны и ударилась о стену. Не успела Камилла поднять глаза, чтобы взглянуть, что происходит, как дверь снова захлопнулась. Затем она услышала щелчок выключателя, и в помещении стало темно. По её спине пробежал холодок. «Кто...» Не успела она договорить, как её толкнули на стол. Куча канцелярских принадлежностей упала на пол, и в этот момент она почувствовала, как к её шее прижался холодный острый кай нжа. «Тихо!» - свирепо прошептал нападавший. Девушка едва могла разглядеть лицо мужчины, хотя его глаза выделялись. Они мерцали в тусклом свете, его взгляд был полон бдительности. В воздухе вокруг них витал знакомый запах железа, и она поняла, что этот человек ранен. Благодаря многолетнему обучению и опыту врача, Камилла смогла сохранить спокойствие. Затем она медленно согнула одну ногу, планируя атаковать мужчину коленом. Но тот видел её насквозь. Как только он почувствовал её движение, то с силой сжал её ноги вместе и прижал к столу своими мощными бёдрами. Вдруг в коридоре послышался шум шагов. Они направлялись прямо в комнату отдыха персонала. «Быстрее, я видела, как он шёл сюда!» Достаточно было одного крика о помощи, и эти люди ворвались бы в комнату. Отчаявшись, мужчина опустил голову и по*ловал Камиллу. Она стала бороться и была удивлена тем, что смогла легко оттолкнуть его. Тем более, что мужчина больше не угрожал ей нжом. Мысли девушки заметались. В этот момент тот, кто находился по ту сторону двери, схватился за ручку. Приняв решение, Камилла притянула мужчину к себе и обвила руками его шею. На этот раз она половала его. «Я могу вам помочь», - пробормотала она под нос, надеясь, что её страх не был заметен. Мужчина шумно сглотнул. Ему потребовалась секунда, чтобы принять решение, затем она почувствовала его горячее дыхание у своего уха: «Я возьму на себя ответственность за это». Его голос был низким и притягательным. Но он, похоже, неправильно понял. Она хотела, чтобы всё это было притворством. Он не должен был ни за что брать ответственность. В следующую секунду дверь снова распахнулась. Камилла и мужчина тут же слились в очередном полуе. Несмотря на их затруднительное положение, мужчина обнаружил, что его тело среагировало на звук. Он мог бы потеряться в нём, если бы люди за дверью не заговорили. «Чрт взьми! Да это же просто цующаяся парочка. Чувак, они и вправду занимаются этим в больнице. Имейте хоть немного приличия!» Свет из коридора проникал в комнату, обнажая пару. Однако тело мужчины было обхвачено Камиллой, скрывая его лицо от любопытных глаз незваных гостей. «Что ж, это точно не Виталий. Этот ублюдок тяжело ранен. Неважно, насколько соблазнительна женщина, я сомневаюсь, что у него хватит сил сделать с ней что-нибудь». «Но, чувак, эта женщина издаёт довольно приятные звуки, а?» «Заткнись и пошевеливайся! Нам нужно найти Виталия как можно скорее, иначе мы потеряем головы!» Послышался шорох и топот ног, и мужчины бросились прочь, а дверь вернулась в своё исходное положение. Мужчина знал, что его преследователи ушли, но осознание того, что теперь они остались одни, подействовало на его самообладание. Он просто сорвался, и неожиданная волна поти захлестнула его. Этот поток же*ния не обошёл стороной и Камиллу. Возможно, дело было в их близости, или в том, как интимно они касались друг друга, а может быть, во внезапном приливе адреналина, но на поверхность поднялась бунтарская жилка, о которой она даже не подозревала. До этого момента девушка жила серой однообразной жизнью, всегда подчиняясь правилам и планам, установленным для неё другими. На этот раз - хотя бы раз - она собиралась побаловать себя. Девушка отбросила свои запреты и предоставила мужчине свободу действий, чтобы он делал всё, что захочет. Когда они закончили, мужчина нежно поцеловал её в щёку. «Я приду за тобой», - прошептал он, в его голосе всё ещё слышались отголоски наслаждения. А затем он ушёл, так же внезапно, как и пришёл. Прошло немало времени, прежде чем Камилла смогла подняться на ноги. Тишину в комнате нарушил звонок её телефона. Она огляделась и обнаружила, что он лежит на краю стола. Камилла схватила телефон, пока он не упал, и нажала на кнопку ответа. «Доктор! - раздался взволнованный голос. -В центр неотложной помощи только что привезли пациента. Он попал в аварию и получил серьёзные травмы. Нам нужно, чтобы вы немедленно оказали ему помощь!» Камилла прочистила горло, чтобы голос звучал ровно: «Хорошо, я буду через минуту». Она положила трубку и направилась к двери, но остановилась на пороге. Она оглядела себя. Она и вправду занялась сксом с незнакомцем в свою брачную ночь. Это был самый возмутительный поступок в её жизни! Но сейчас было не время праздновать свой поступок или размышлять о его последствиях. Камилла привела себя в порядок и отправилась в центр экстренной помощи. Весь остаток ночи она была занята работой. Когда она наконец освободилась, уже близился рассвет. Вернувшись в комнату отдыха персонала, она обнаружила, что в комнате было всё так же грязно. Руки девушки сжались в кулаки, а в голове пронеслись воспоминания о бурном прошлой ночью. «Спасибо, что подменила меня, доктор Петрова», - коллега Камиллы, Яна Агафонова, вошла с благодарной улыбкой. Та выдавила из себя улыбку: «Пожалуйста». «Дальше я справлюсь сама. Тебе следует вернуться и немного отдохнуть, - Яна посмотрела на бумаги, разбросанные по полу, и приподняла брови. - Что здесь произошло? Почему всё валяется на полу?» Камила в панике отвела глаза и ответила: «Ой, я случайно уронила их. Пожалуйста, приберись здесь. Я устала, поэтому пойду». Яне показался странным ответ Камиллы, но она не придала этому значения. Они попрощались, и женщина принялась собирать разбросанные вещи. Она едва успела начать, как в дверях появился сам директор больницы, а за ним - помощник Виталия. Глава 2 Чувство вины «Это врач, дежурившая вчера вечером, - сказал директор больницы. - Доктор Яна Агафонова». Ассистент Виталия, Денис Орлов, вошёл в комнату и посмотрел на табличку с именем на лабораторном халате Яны. «Пойдёмте со мной». Яна была в замешательстве. «Куда мы идём?» Но директор больницы не захотел отвечать на её вопрос. Он с силой потянул её за руку и сказал: «Просто пойдёмте. Не заставляйте господина Новикова ждать». Вскоре она оказалась в кабинете директора больницы. Виталий сидел на диване, его худощавое и мускулистое тело откинулось назад в непринуждённой позе, а длинные ноги были скрещены перед ним. Нужно было иметь острый глаз и присмотреться повнимательнее, чтобы понять, что его губы были бледнее обычного. К счастью, резкий запах дезинфицирующего средства, которым были пропитаны стены больницы, скрывал запах кви на его коже. Он был одет в чистый чёрный костюм, который также помог скрыть красные пятна, в противном случае встревожившие бы всех окружающих. В его выражении лица чувствовалась жёсткость, которая так и говорила, будто он побывал в самом аду, и что с ним не стоит шутить. Денис подошёл к дивану и наклонился поближе, чтобы прошептать Виталию на ухо: «Видеозаписи с камер наблюдения прошлой ночи были намеренно подделаны, скорее всего, это сделали ваши нападавшие. Они подчистили следы и убрали все возможные улики. Это доктор Яна Агафонова, дежурившая прошлой ночью. Директор больницы сам подтвердил это. Я также перепроверил записи. Это действительно она». Только тогда Виталий поднял глаза. У Яны резко перехватило дыхание и она поняла, что перед ней сам босс корпорации «Парамаунт». «Вы тот человек, который помог мне прошлой ночью?» - спросил Виталий, оглядывая её с головы до ног. Яна тут же пригнула голову, не решаясь встретиться с грозным взглядом мужчины. «Да... Э-это была я», - она не совсем понимала, о чём идёт речь, но знала, что в её интересах войти в доверие к Виталию Новикову. Выгода не заставит себя ждать. Так случилось, что в Центральном военном госпитале собирались отобрать кандидатов для прохождения практики. И хотя это было обозначено как таковое, все в этой отрасли знали, что интерны в конечном итоге будут приняты на работу и доживут до конца своей карьеры в этом учреждении. Если уж на то пошло, Центральный военный госпиталь имел доступ к ресурсам, которые были намного лучше, чем в этой больнице. Яна планировала подружиться с Виталием в надежде использовать его связи, чтобы попасть в лучшую больницу. «Я могу компенсировать тебе всем, чем ты захочешь, даже браком», - внезапно прервал её мысли холодный голос Виталия. Его лицо оставалось отстранённым, но мысль о вчерашней ночи смягчила жёсткую линию его рта. «Что ж... Я...» - это было настолько неожиданно, чем Яна могла себе представить, что она с трудом могла подобрать слова. «Приходи ко мне, как только примешь решение», - встал Виталий и жестом попросил Дениса дать ей свой контактный телефон. Директор больницы поспешил и предложил Виталию проводить его к выходу. «В этом нет необходимости», - отказался тот, и всё его поведение снова стало холодным. Затем он остановился, как будто его кое-что осенило. Он обернулся к директору и сказал: «Пожалуйста, позаботьтесь о ней». «Конечно», - заверил его директор больницы с вежливой улыбкой. Убедившись, что они находятся вне пределов слышимости, Денис подошёл к Виталию. «Начальник, - обратился он тихим, но настоятельным голосом, - вы ведь уже женаты. Я не думаю, что брак является приемлемым вариантом для госпожи Агафоновой. Вам следует отказаться от этого предложения». Губы Виталия дёрнулись при упоминании о его браке, а лицо ещё больше помрачнело, когда он подумал о женщине, на которой его заставили жениться. «Тебе что, жить надоело?» - пригрозил он своему помощнику. Тот понял, что сказал то, чего не следовало, и тут же задрожал. В этот момент он не знал, кто больше всего злит его босса - новая невеста или человек, стоящий за вчерашним нападением. Тем временем Камилла вернулась на виллу, которую должна была делить с мужем. Экономка средних лет, Виктория Романова, встретила её в фойе, на её лице было написано беспокойство. «Почему вас не было вчера вечером, госпожа?» «Я должна была подменить коллегу», - ответила та. Её глаза были покрасневшими и слезились от усталости. Увидев это, Виктория решила не настаивать на своём. Камилла поднялась наверх и погрузилась в ванну. Её мысли невольно вернулись к предыдущей ночи, и она почувствовала, как её щёки начали гореть. Она вздохнула и погрузилась в воду, как бы спасаясь от тревожных воспоминаний. Её чувства по этому поводу были смешанными, и она не знала, с чего начать. Она даже не представляла, что это был за человек. Более того, она теперь была замужем. От этой мысли она почувствовала вину. Несмотря на обстоятельства, которые привели их к нынешнему положению, факт оставался фактом: она и Виталий являются мужем и женой. Камилла вышла из ванны, оделась и снова приготовилась к выходу. Как только она спустилась вниз, Виктория тут же засуетилась вокруг неё: «Вы опять уходите так скоро? Почему бы вам сначала не позавтракать?» Та посмотрела на время. «Нет, я опоздаю на работу». Виктория знала, что Камилла врач, поэтому она понимала, что для этой молодой девушки является нормой проводить на работе неумеренное количество времени. Тогда она протянула ей стакан молока: «Выпейте хотя бы это. Осторожно, оно горячее». «Спасибо», - тихо произнесла девушка, согретая заботой экономки. «Не за что», - любезно улыбнулась экономка. Возможно, этот брак и был вынужденным, но она достаточно хорошо знала, что нельзя смотреть на Камиллу свысока. Даже без титула жены Виталия Новикова Камилла - профессиональный врач, и это делает её более чем достойной уважения. Допив молоко, Камилла вернула стакан Виктории и направилась к выходу. Однако она не пошла сразу в комнату отдыха персонала. Она вышла из дома пораньше, потому что ей нужно было зайти в стационар. Её мать была помещена в отделение интенсивной терапии. Камилла молча вошла в палату и проверила состояние матери. Женщина по-прежнему находилась в плохом состоянии. Сердце девушки заныло. Её мать страдала от сердечной недостаточности и находилась в критическом состоянии. Единственным способом сохранить жизнь матери была пересадка сердца, которая, естественно, обошлась бы в целое состояние. Основной причиной, по которой Камилла согласилась на брак, было то, что её отец угрожал удержать деньги, необходимые для операции. Теперь, когда она вышла замуж, как того требовал её отец, всё, что им было нужно, это найти подходящего донора сердца. Камилла бросила горький взгляд на мать: «Мама, я тебя вылечу. Я обещаю». Её мать была самым близким человеком, её главной поддержкой и надёжным доверенным лицом. Неожиданно зазвонил телефон. Девушка достала телефон из кармана и ответила на звонок. «Мила, - раздался мужской голос. - Мне нужно, чтобы ты оказала мне одну услугу». Глава 3 Частный пациент Камилле позвонил Фёдор Фальков. Они учились в одном медицинском университете, хотя он был на два года старше её. Затем он уехал за границу, чтобы продолжить обучение, и теперь был известным экспертом в своей области. Фёдор всегда хорошо заботился о Камилле, поэтому они были довольно близки. «О какой услуге идёт речь?» - прямо спросила Камилла. «У меня есть пациент, нуждающийся в лечении, однако у меня появилось неотложное дело, и я не думаю, что смогу заняться этим в ближайшее время. Пожалуйста, возьми пациента под своё крыло», - попросил Фёдор. Камила взглянула на своё расписание. Сегодня у неё не было дел в офисе, и, если не считать двух операций, запланированных на полдень, она была практически свободна. «Да, конечно. Куда мне подъехать?» - спросила Камилла. «Я напишу тебе адрес. Когда доберёшься туда, просто скажи охранникам, что ты приехала к господину Калашникову, и они обо всём позаботятся», - ответил Фёдор. «Договорились», - ответила девушка. «Ещё кое-что, - добавил Фёдор, и его тон стал серьёзным. - Никогда никому об этом не говори и не задавай лишних вопросов. Всё, что тебе нужно сделать, это вылечить пациента». «Ясно. Не волнуйся», - ответила Камилла. Они попрощались, и Камилла вызвала такси, чтобы добраться к пациенту. Место оказалось в престижном районе, заполненном виллами, оснащёнными системами безопасности высшего уровня. Как и ожидалось, на входе девушка столкнулась с суровой охраной. Камилла последовала инструкциям и упомянула господина Калашникова. Сделав звонок, чтобы убедиться в правдивости её слов, охранник пригласил Камиллу внутрь. Девушка легко нашла виллу. Она поднялась по ступенькам и позвонила в дверь. Через несколько секунд дверь открылась. Казалось, что ситуация действительно была срочной. Денис нахмурился. Они ждали Фёдора, но вместо этого на пороге оказалась незваная гостья. «Простите, вы…» - начала девушка. Из указаний Фёдора Камилла уже сделала вывод, что этот пациент ценит своё личное пространство, и чтобы избежать неприятностей, она сочла разумным надеть маску. Безопасность была в приоритете. «Доктор Фальков попросил меня приехать сюда», - сказала Камилла. Денис мельком взглянул на аптечку, которую она держала: «Вы знаете, что делать?» «Да, доктор Фальков дал мне инструкции. Я сохраню всё в строгой конфиденциальности», - ответила девушка. Денис знал, что Фёдор не передал бы свои обязанности тому, кто не заслуживает доверия или некомпетентен, поэтому утвердительно кивнул и впустил Камиллу. Он провёл её мимо роскошной гостиной, затем вверх по лестнице в спальню. В комнате было темно. «Как я буду проводить лечение без света?» - спросила Камилла. Когда Виталий услышал женский голос, то поспешно схватил свой пиджак и натянул его на лицо. «Включи свет», - приказал он сквозь ткань. Денис щёлкнул выключателем, и комнату залил яркий свет. Первой мыслью Камиллы было то, что голос пациента был довольно знакомым, однако она отмахнулась от этих мыслей. Она увидела человека, лежащего на кровати, чья белая парадная рубашка была в пятнах давно засохшей крови. Камилла не хотела вдаваться в подробности и решила сосредоточиться на ранах. Мужчина явно не хотел выдавать свою личность, поэтому девушка естественным образом уважала его границы и вела себя прилично. Она поставила свою аптечку на тумбочку и достала хирургические инструменты. Камилла ножницами разрезала рубашку пациента, обнажив его раны, которые были покрыты тонким слоем марли. Она убрала всё и, наконец, увидела две зияющие раны на правой стороне торса мужчины. Камилла начала лечение, обработав раны своими ловкими руками. Всё это время она оставалась спокойной, а её движения были быстрыми и эффективными. «Есть ли у вас аллергия на анестезию?» - спросила она через некоторое время. К счастью, раны были неглубокие и повредили лишь небольшую часть кожи, однако требовалось хирургическое вмешательство. Процесс требовал применения местной анестезии. Камилла говорила спокойно, почти тихо, что резко контрастировало с её безумным голосом прошлой ночью. Поэтому, несмотря на обмен несколькими словами, Виталий совсем не узнал её. «Нет», - сказал он своим обычным холодным голосом, про себя восхваляя её профессионализм. Камилла приступила к приготовлению анестезии, а затем ввела её в область вокруг ран. Им пришлось подождать пару минут, пока началось действие препарата, после чего она наложила швы. Примерно через час Камилла наконец закончила. В целом, лечение прошло быстро и успешно. Камилла посмотрела на свои оквавленные руки и сказала: «Мне нужно в уборную». «Вы можете использовать ту, что внизу», - ответил Денис. Камилла поспешно покинула спальню. Убедившись, что девушка вернулась на первый этаж, Денис закрыл дверь и поспешил к Виталию. «Я узнал, что бандиты, напавшие на вас вчера, подосланы Артёмом. Он, вероятно, отчаянно хочет избавиться от вас, особенно после того, как вы вычислили его шпионов в вашей компании», - сказал Денис. Виталий застонал от боли, усаживаясь, а затем подтянулся к краю кровати и опустил ноги на пол. Он выглядел слабым, но его глаза вспыхнули опасным блеском. Мужчина перевёл пронзительный взгляд на своего помощника. «Эта женщина, на которой я был вынужден жениться, имеет какое-либо отношение к Артёму?» - спросил он. Денис понизил голос: «На самом деле, Артём связался с вашим тестем, Мироном. Он стремился выдать свою дочь замуж за члена семьи Новиковых, но, похоже, никогда не рассматривал вашего кузена Илью, как подходящего кандидата. Должно быть, Артём договорился с ним». «Он не перестаёт меня удивлять каждый день. С моей стороны будет не вежливо промолчать в ответ», - сказал Виталий. За время отсутствия Виталия, в городе произошло много событий, в которых был замешан Илья. «Я слышал, что у Ильи есть захудалый бар "Шарм" на улице Арбатская», - протянул Виталий. Денис всё понял с полуслова. «Да, поскольку шпионов выгнали из компании, этот клуб стал их единственным источником дохода, и если его закроют, то им придётся довольно туго», - сказал Денис. «Помоги им в этом», - сказал Виталий, и его голос стал на октаву ниже. Денис столкнулся с Камиллой, когда спускался вниз. Он предположил, что Фёдор проинструктировал девушку заранее, однако решил немного её напугать для большего эффекта: «Если вы расскажете об этом кому-нибудь, вас настигнет ужасная смерть», - сказал он. Если слух о травмах Виталия дойдёт до Артёма или его сына Ильи, они обязательно повернут это в свою пользу. Камилла кивнула: «Я сохраню это в тайне. Я только возьму свою аптечку и немедленно уйду». Когда девушка вернулась в спальню, то обнаружила мужчину, стоящего у окна напротив двери. Он стоял к ней спиной, однако девушка могла рассмотреть его широкие плечи и мускулистую спину. Его тело было стройным, просто идеальным. «Вы разве не ушли?» - спросил мужчина насмешливым голосом. Он не обернулся, но каким-то образом понял, что она смотрит на него. Возможно, он почувствовал её горячий взгляд. Камилла смущённо опустила голову. Как бы ей не хотелось это признавать, но этот мужчина заинтересовал её. Глава 4 Стажировка Камилла, опустив голову, торопливо взяла свою аптечку. Прочистив горло, она дала мужчине несколько указаний. Как бы там ни было, она всё же была врачом. «Вам нельзя пока мочить свои раны. Дезинфицируйте их раз в день и носите свободные рубашки, чтобы не раздражать раны». Она поставила бутылочку с таблетками и тюбик с мазью на тумбочку. «Я оставляю вам эти лекарства». Виталий что-то пробормотал в знак признательности, но не обернулся. Камилла тоже больше ничего не сказала и сразу же покинула виллу. Когда она вернулась в больницу, было уже почти одиннадцать дня. Она направилась в столовую, чтобы перекусить. Едва устроившись за своим столом, её вызвали в кабинет главврача. «Я отправляю Яну в Центральный военный госпиталь на стажировку», - сказал главврач тоном, не терпящим возражений. Камилла была потрясена и сказала: «Но я думала, что вы уже решили отправить меня?» «Камилла, я уверен, что ты знаешь о том, что всё высокотехнологичное оборудование нашей больницы спонсировалось корпорацией "Парамаунт". Президент Новиков лично попросил меня позаботиться о Яне. Я не могу позволить себе пойти против его воли». Камилла ощетинилась при упоминании имени Виталия. Хотя они и были официально женаты, но они никогда не встречались. Она видела мужчину только в журналах и иногда в новостях по телевизору. Значит, он и Яна? Сердце Камиллы ёкнуло, но она оставалась спокойной. «Вот как?» «Да, боюсь, у меня связаны руки. Послушай, Камилла, мы оба знаем о твоих способностях, но...» - главврач хотел успокоить девушку, но не знал, как. Камилла выделялась среди своих сверстников благодаря невероятному таланту и профессиональной этике. Главврач ценил её больше всех остальных. «Я понимаю», - пробормотала Камилла себе под нос. Девушка говорила себе, что она была не в том положении, чтобы расстраиваться из-за вмешательства Виталия. Он был вынужден жениться на ней, и, естественно, она не могла рассчитывать на то, что он будет заботиться о ней. «Мне ещё нужно подготовиться к операции, так что я пойду», - смиренным голосом сказала девушка. Камилла понимала, что ничего не может сделать, чтобы изменить ситуацию. Главврач просто вздохнул и смотрел, как она уходит. Камилла с энтузиазмом погрузилась в работу, пытаясь не думать о стажировке. Она без заминки провела свою вторую операцию, затем сняла свою хирургическую форму и, посмотрев вверх, устало плюхнулась на стул. Именно в этот момент в гостиную вошла Яна и сказала: «Здравствуй, Камилла, - поприветствовала она, ярко улыбаясь. - Ты свободна вечером? Позволь угостить тебя ужином». «Извини, но у меня есть дела, с которыми нужно разобраться позже», - вежливо отказалась Камилла. Девушка не была в хороших отношениях с Яной. Они были просто коллегами, а не подругами. Обе окончили один и тот же университет в одно и то же время. Ещё тогда Яна была той ещё штучкой. Она была очень амбициозной и всегда хотела покрасоваться и привлекать всеобщее внимание. Камилла, в свою очередь, предпочитала оставаться незаметной и была погружена в свои книги. Можно сказать, что девушки были абсолютно разными. Понятное дело, что они не очень хорошо ладили. «О, очень жаль, - сказала Яна, выглядя почему-то смущённой. - Вообще-то я хотела с тобой кое о чём поговорить». Камилла встала и подошла к своему шкафчику, чтобы повесить халат. «Говори», - сказала она, не глядя на Яну. Тот факт, что её коллега так или иначе связалась с Виталием, ещё больше отдалил Камиллу от Яны. «Ты, должно быть, слышала, да? Мне очень жаль. Я понятия не имела, что директор…» «Всё в порядке», - перебила Камилла. Однако Яна ещё не всё сказала и продолжила: «И ещё, можешь сохранить в секрете то, что вчера вечером ты вышла на смену вместо меня? Знаешь, поскольку я собираюсь в Центральный военный госпиталь, я не хочу, чтобы это причинило какие-либо проблемы». Несмотря на то, что просьба Яны была необычной, Камилла не думала об этом и ответила: «Я никому не скажу». В любом случае, не было ничего странного в том, чтобы взять на себя смену коллеги. Время от времени им приходилось сталкиваться с личными чрезвычайными обстоятельствами. На территории больницы. Фёдор сидел на заднем сиденье дорогой чёрной машины, которая была припаркована у ворот. «Ну, - сказал он голосом, переполненным гордостью, - что думаешь о моей ученице? У неё отличные способности, не так ли?» Рядом с мужчиной сидел Виталий, откинувшись на спинку сиденья. Он снова подумал о враче, который лечил его, и вспомнил, какими спокойными и точными были её действия. На самом деле, мужчина был поражен её способностями. «Это госпожа Волкова», - вдруг заговорил Денис. Виталий опустил стекло как раз в тот момент, когда Яна подошла к машине. Брови Фёдора поднялись, и он сказал: «Яна?» Денис обернулся с водительского места и спросил: «Вы знаете её?» Фёдор кивнул, его взгляд заблестел от любопытства. «Она была студенткой на год младше в моём университете». Виталию стало любопытно, когда он услышал это. Значит, эта девушка не только спасла его прошлой ночью, но и залечила его раны? «Это судьба?» - воскликнул Денис. Вселенная наконец решила дать его боссу шанс на любовь? «Какого чёрта ты несёшь?» - спросил Фёдор, нахмурившись, переводя взгляд с одного мужчины на другого. ...... Что будет дальше? Количество глав здесь ограничено, нажмите на кнопку ниже, чтобы установить приложение и продолжить чтение более захватывающих глав! (Вы будете автоматически перенаправлены на книгу, когда откроете приложение) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-	Hello reading		0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.litradnovie.com	IMAGE		https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195190390476	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465704886_1291441575363252_8231426759484419109_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eg8c3Rj503kQ7kNvgFHUKK5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AmtvEJfDbQ2d1QyU_vQy4E9&oh=00_AYB1TsLrBm0wKbCuR61X3COp9ZLLCzVpbrAecR_DqS42wQ&oe=6749A42F	REGULAR_PAGE	0		1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,899	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524888}'	No	2024-11-24 19:10	active	1919	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	It had been three years of marriage. Justine Thorpe finally found her husband, Ash Vanderbilt, in the OB-GYN clinic of a hospital. He hadn't shown up for three months. However, he was not alone. Another woman—his mistress—was with him. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Justine. Her name was Jenny Thorpe, and she had been living as Justine's replacement in the Thorpe family for 16 years. Justine had suspected her husband of having an affair for at least six months, but she never imagined it would be with Jenny. Not that the revelation was entirely surprising, now that she thought about it. Everyone in Sol's upper class knew that Ash's true love had always been his childhood friend. Justine was the devil who had gotten in the way. Seeing Ash and Jenny together somehow relieved Justine. The mystery was finally solved. She watched them enter the elevator. Ash's delicate eyelashes were lowered as he spoke softly to his companion. Justine had never seen him this gentle before. Jenny was grazing her slightly protruding belly, nodding bashfully. Justine and Jenny closely resembled each other, yet Justine could never mimic the seductive femininity that Jenny exuded. Suddenly, Jenny lifted her head and met Justine's gaze before ducking into Ash's arms as if frightened. "Ashie!" she mumbled. Just as always, Jenny was putting on a show again. Ash looked up with a glare. His eyes met Justine's, and the gentleness on his face dissipated, replaced by that all-too-familiar apathy and annoyance. Justine and Ash were married only because their parents had wanted them to be. She had lost her parents when she was three, though, and while she had been missing, Jenny had come out of nowhere and stolen Justine's identity. By the time Justine was finally found. Ash's mind had already been set—he only cared for his "childhood friend". The seniors in the family had had to force him to take Justine's hand. Justine did not mind. The only thing she loved about Ash was his looks, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He seemed more and more like a stranger to her. - The elevator door shut. Justine thought their encounter was dramatic. Just imagine how much of a soap opera episode it would be like if she ran at Ash, slapped him, and then confronted Jenny! "Jean! When did you get here? I was just about to grab this medicine for you!" Justine turned to meet Iris Carr, her manager. She smiled and signed, "An expecting mother needed help." Iris studied her heart-stopping beauty and felt a pang in her heart. Justine was so gorgeous, kind, gentle, and an extraordinary dancer. She was a mute who outshone so many people Iris had known. She had even been the prima ballerina of a well-known ballet company, until… "Here. Your painkillers," Iris said, her eyes reddening slightly as she choked back a sob. "How could you just… injure your spine? You finally managed to become the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale! If you could just finish this tour, you could have..." Becoming the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale ballet company was the dream of countless dancers worldwide. And Justine had been considered after just one interview—it was incredible! The tragedy weighed heavily on Iris. Justine had always been silent about her family matters, leading Iris to list her as orphaned on her resume, stating she had grown up in an orphanage. Over time, Iris had even come to believe it herself. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Justine smiled faintly, seemingly unaware of the sympathy in Iris' face, as she received the painkillers. A year ago, Ash's uncle had hired a hitman on his life. Justine's attempt to save him resulted in her spinal injury. Ash had found the best doctors money could buy and purchased expensive medical equipment for her. The medical team later concluded that her treatment was complete. Unfortunately, two months later, her old injury was aggravated while she was preparing for the tour. After another examination, Justine's career was essentially over. While the spinal injury wouldn't affect her daily life, she could no longer dance. Justine had informed Ash immediately, but he had yet to respond. Maybe he never cared. She had cried her heart out after returning from the hospital, but ultimately, she accepted her fate. This was not the end of the world. After some reflection, Justine decided to continue her tour. She would get treatment alongside it, determined to end her career as a ballet dancer on a high note. This evening's performance would be her last. However, that morning, she woke up to find her painkiller supply depleted. Justine squeezed the paper bag, her eyes feeling dry. It was as if she were a character in a soap opera. Meeting Ash and Jenny felt like a cruel joke. The pain in her spine flared slightly. Regret washed over her. If only she had never tried to save Ash. Instead, he survived long enough to become a villain, insulting the handsome face Justine once adored. She tucked the painkillers into her pocket and took out her phone. Her long lashes veiled the coldness in her eyes as she looked down at the screen. She then selected Ash's number, typed a message, and sent it immediately. - "Why was she in the OB-GYN, Ashie?" At the basement parking lot, Jenny subconsciously shielded her belly and added, "Could she be, you know…" "That's impossible," Ash replied firmly. Jenny looked away to hide her surprised glee. So Justine had never managed to sleep with him in all three years of marriage? Well, it wasn't that surprising. Everyone in Sol knew that, as a boy, Ash had almost been strangled to death by his mute and mentally ill mother. Traumatized, Ash harbored hatred for his birth mother—and for people who were mute like her. Thus, when his maternal grandparents forced him to marry Justine, it felt like a cruel joke aimed at Ash. There was no way he would ever sleep with her. Poor Justine! A laughingstock, was she not? So what if she was beautiful? What if she could perform some snobby, pretentious dance? Ash had still abandoned her. How could she ever compete with Jenny for Ash's heart? Jenny suppressed her glee and pretended to look sad. "Oh, Ashie… I bet the one person Justine hates the most is me. You are aware of what transpired. She nearly took my life when she returned to the Thorpes. And now she saw us at the OB-GYN," she said. "I should explain myself to her once I get back. I don't want her to throw another fit—" "She won't," Ash interjected. Justine was his simp, always obeying his wishes. For years, there had been fabricated scandals circulating online about celebrities sleeping with him, yet Justine had never questioned him about any of it. She trusted him—like a machine programmed to smile and serve him. "Don't overthink it, Jenny. She won't hurt you," he added. "I'll have someone escort you home safely." Jenny still looked like she was about to cry. She was on the verge of getting into Ash's car when she suddenly caught sight of Justine in the parking lot. Ash had assured her that everything would be fine, but what made him so certain? Jenny could never forget the day Justine chased her with a kitchen knife like a rabid dog. It was a true display of Justine's character. Did she really believe she could charm Ash into loving her by hiding her true nature? Did she think she could be Mrs. Vanderbilt forever? It was almost laughable. "Juju!" Jenny called out cheerfully. Justine had always hated that nickname and would go ballistic over it. What if she reacted that way again this time? Ash's expression darkened as he shot a brief glance at Justine, immediately noticing how thin she had become. Justine turned to them and nodded politely as if she had no idea who they were. She signed to the woman beside her, entered her ballet company's car, and drove away. Jenny gritted her teeth. She did not take the bait! She squeezed out some crocodile tears and grabbed Ash's sleeve. "Ashie, Ashie! Did you see that? She didn't even acknowledge us! This is all my fault! I shouldn't have come to you for help even if I have no one else to turn to… Because we were engaged before, so this had to look really bad… "Oh no, I'm the one who ruined your marriage! I should have just stayed with those guys!" she sobbed. Ash ignored her. He was fixated on what Justine had signed: "I don't know them. They mistook me for someone else." "Ashie, you gotta chase after her!" Jenny cried out as though she cared about preserving Ash and Justine's relationship. Ash was unfazed. He absent-mindedly glanced at the sleeve Jenny was grabbing and realized that Justine had bought this coat for him. She had won a ballet competition that day and used the prize money to purchase it, presenting it almost like a tribute. Ash yanked the sleeve away from Jenny. "I've told you. She won't mind." At that moment, his phone vibrated. Ash scanned the screen, and his eyes suddenly grew bitterly cold as the words leaped into view: [I want a divorce.] Chapter 2 At the Grand Theater of Sol. A towering man stood in the darkness where the audience gathered. He felt as cold as winter. His eyes were fixed on the stage as the Black Swan darted across it, agile and mesmerizing. The Black Swan's movements were fluid and firm, sensual and tempting. The man almost wished he could possess her right now. The performance was nearing its end, so the man turned away and strode toward the backstage. - The performance ended. Justine felt a quiet pain in her waist, but she gritted her teeth through the production. The crowd erupted in ovation. She took one last yearning glance at the stage and her adoring audience before returning backstage. Iris had been watching her every move with concern. "Is it hurting? I can cancel the fan meeting and photo session if you need it. You can rest in the breakroom, and once the rest of the performance is over, I'll come for you," Iris suggested. Justine waved reassuringly. Many of these fans had traveled all the way to Sol to see her performance—to meet her. How could she let them down? Soon, the photo session concluded. After checking in with Justine, Iris left to direct the stage. Suddenly, Justine found herself alone. She looked around as memories flooded back. Ballet had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Concerned that Justine's disability might hinder her job prospects, the orphanage's director had signed her up for ballet classes after discovering her talent, despite the lack of funding from the orphanage. All that hard work and dedication was gone like the wind because of her career-ending injury. How could anyone not feel regret? Justine removed her makeup and pressed her hand against her waist, trying to support it as she tiredly headed to the prima ballerina's room. It was dark inside. She reached for the light switch. Suddenly, from the shadows, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Then, the door shut and locked behind her. Panic surged through Justine. The scent enveloping her was familiar. Why was Ash there? Before she could answer her own question, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. More kisses followed, violent and punishing. Justine wanted to shove him away, but Ash was a hulking mass of angry muscle, dominating her completely. Fear surged as she bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. Jenny had no idea how wrong she was about Justine and Ash's life. Their marriage had been consummated quickly, thanks to the "intervention" of some elders. Although Ash might resent Justine's existence, he was undeniably addicted to her body. They had known each other for so long and so well that they instinctively understood how to arouse and please one another. This knowledge was etched into their flesh, a part of their movements. Justine's thoughts spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, she felt a bite on her shoulder. She could tell Ash was upset just from the strength—and it irritated her. What was his problem?! He had always wanted this divorce! he had signed the paper with his name on the day of their wedding! With Justine gone, he would finally be able to marry the woman he really wanted, right? So why is he angry now? Because she was the one who had suggested it instead of him? The backstage was starting to fill with people. She could even hear one of the assistant artistic directors rushing past her room. If anyone were to knock—or even open—her door, Justine would be famous in the scene for the worst reason possible! Justine bit her lips, forcing herself not to let out even a should. Unfortunately, this only made Ash more beastly. He hated silence, so he did everything he could to make her scream and yelp. - The light was on, bright and blinding. Ash sat languidly on the couch, his shirt and suit surprisingly neat. In contrast, Justine's expensive ballet dress lay torn. After a shower, she slipped into an oversized practice garment while Ash glared at her. "A divorce?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was difficult to discern his emotions from his voice. Justine studied him—he was still as handsome as ever, but gone was the youthful, teenage look she once loved. In its place stood an indifferent, reserved man in a suit. Her eyes no longer sparkled with admiration and yearning when she looked at him. She nodded firmly. Ash snickered. "What? Because of Jenny?" For some reason, the thought of Justine exploding over his affair with Jenny excited him. Unfortunately, she simply shook her head determinedly. "I don't love you anymore," she signed. "That's why I want a divorce." Reality shattered Ash's fleeting excitement. Her straightforwardness left no room for ambiguity—she didn't even hint at clinging. His mind went blank. Suddenly, he recalled that rainy night many years ago when that woman had pushed him into the mud, signing furiously, "I don't love you anymore! I am not your mother! You are disgusting, just like your father! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!" It felt as though all emotions had drained from him. Ash rose and glared at Justine frostily. "Suit me just fine. You stole this marriage from Jenny back then, anyway. She finally gets what's always been hers." "Congratulations," Justine signed earnestly. Ash was stunned. He had not expected that from her. He remembered Jenny begging Justine not to take him away when Justine had taken out a lipstick and written on the wall, right in front of their parents, 'He is mine, and only mine!' The same woman… just congratulated Jenny. Rage inexplicably flared within him. Granted, this marriage should have ended sooner. It had been delayed because she had saved his life while sustaining grievous injuries a year ago, but now she was the one requesting a divorce. That worked to Ash's advantage, right? He had no reason to be mad. "My lawyer will contact you tomorrow at noon to finalize our divorce," he said. Justine nodded. Surprisingly, she felt not a hint of sadness or longing. "Good. We can announce our divorce at the family dinner tomorrow evening," she signed. Ash looked away from her. she had this all planned out, hadn't she? It was as if she could not wait to have every tie with him severed. Chapter 3 Ash sneered and went through the door. Justine watched his hulking frame, suddenly recalling hazy memories of her teenage past: a younger version of him, tall and lean, with his back against her. Despite her earlier calm, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "Justine…" He had stopped by the door and turned to face her. "I no longer answer to my grandfather, Justine. So there's zero chance of you going back to being my wife after this. Don't regret it. "And most importantly—don't give Jenny trouble. You've tormented her enough." Ash understood how obsessive her love had been. Justine's life was so devoid of meaning that the only two things she had were ballet and him. This was why Ash was convinced that Justine's sudden change of attitude stemmed from spite after seeing Jenny. Once she calmed down, he was sure she would regret this decision. His job was to ensure her regret was futile. She could no longer return to him—and he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enough—the poor girl had endured much of Justine's wrath. That was why he was determined not to let Jenny suffer for him any longer, no matter how hysterical Justine could be. "Trust me, Mr. Vanderbilt. You should say this to her," Justine signed, her eyes gentle as always. "She should not mess with me." Otherwise, Jenny would suffer worse. - Justine was nothing if not determined. When Ash was her prize, no one—not could have gotten in her way. But now that she wanted him out of her life, she wouldn't shed a tear for him. After Ash left, Justine cleaned up the room. She picked up the torn pieces of her favorite ballet dress. It had been tailor-made for her—a piece of luxury she had won in an international competition. Fixing it would require a lot of money. She had to demand compensation for it in the divorce agreement! Just then, she heard Iris' voice from outside. "Jean? Are you up?" The performances had ended a while ago. Iris had arrived earlier, but the light in the room had been off, so she had assumed Justine had been sleeping. Justine lit a lavender candle, and once the stench of Ash's intrusion faded, she opened the door. "It's over?" she signed. "Other troupes have all left except for your group! Everyone's waiting for you at the party," Iris replied, doing her best to mask her sadness. Yes, it was a party, all right—a farewell party. Suddenly, Justine's phone rang, startling her. Few people ever called her phone. Those who knew her preferred video calls. But this was an audio call. "Looks like a landline number," Iris murmured. She quickly looked it up on the Internet. "That's… Eudaimonia Home in Saintwood. Why is a nursing home calling you at this hour?" Justine answered the call before Iris finished her explanation. "Is this Justine Thorpe? Good evening. This is Eudaimonia Home. Mrs. Aurora Roch hasn't been feeling too well for the past two days. If you can, please come here as soon as possible. She would like to meet you." Justine was shocked. - The trip took three hours, and it was already one in the morning when Justine arrived. The nurse who had called her led Justine to Aurora's room. "She's been expecting you," the young woman said. The sight of a sickly, bony woman on a sickbed greeted Justine. Aurora had once been the director of Glascape Orphanage and had been a mother figure who raised Justine. She was the one who had recognized the potential ballerina in her and let her shine. Three years ago… While suffering from an incurable disease, Justine's grandfather found her in the orphanage and wanted her to return home. Justine refused—until some bloggers discovered Glascape Island. The rustic beauty of the fishing town quickly spread across the Internet, attracting several corporations eager to transform it into a tourist destination. At that critical moment, Aurora was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Justine faced a difficult choice. She needed money to prevent the island's purchase and save Aurora. Thus, she approached her grandfather and agreed to a deal. Soon after, Aurora informed Justine that she had contacted a hospital abroad where she would receive treatment. They parted ways but promised to stay in touch. "The treatment went well," she would say. "I met someone I love in the wonderful continent of Aestra. I would like to spend my last few years there." Justine believed her. Aurora had discovered her stomach cancer at an early stage, so her chances of recovery were high. Justine sincerely hoped Aurora was living happily out there, free from any shackles. Then Justine decided to marry Ash. That was when Aurora suddenly came to see her. They had a big argument, and afterward, Aurora stopped contacting Justine. - For years, Justine had been trying to locate Aurora. She would ask around and chase down leads, but she never managed to find her—until today. On her way to the hospital, the nurse provided details about Aurora's illness. The cancer cells had been spreading even back when they had their fight. "Jean, is that you?" Aurora's voice sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Justine approached her, choking back tears. Aurora examined her face and smiled. "Oh, Jean. You're even more beautiful now!" she whispered. Justine studied her in disbelief. Suffering had taken so much from her. Aurora was left with nothing but bones and skin! Justine could not help but cry. "I thought you found someone you love! A-And you're spending your last days somewhere in Aestra!" Justine signed slowly. "So why are you here? Why are you… dying?" Aurora's eyes reddened. "I'm so sorry. I lied." Justine cast her eyes at Aurora's face, shakily holding her hands. She pressed her forehead against the back of Aurora's hands—just like she used to when she was a child. But there was no warmth left in Aurora's hands. They were frighteningly cold. "Love, you're all grown up now. You have to… learn to accept death… Mine… and Ares'..." Ares… Justine felt her blood freeze. Memories flooded her—it was a beautiful day. A young man ran across the white waves as they rolled. He laughed and turned back to her, his smile brighter than the sun. "Come over here for a hug, Little Justine!" he had called. Pain coursed through Justine’s limbs. She met Aurora's gaze, her eyes brimming with tears of agony. Chapter 4 Aurora knew exactly what was on her mind. She had raised this child, after all. Half a year after Ares' death, the Thorpe family located Justine in Glascape. Aurora hadn't wanted to be separated from the young woman, but Justine's worsening mental state had made her reconsider. Justine had taken it poorly, wasting all her time searching for news about a man who was already dead. She had been a woman possessed—everyone feared she would become more self-destructive. Aurora had hoped that sending Justine away to a new place with her original family might help her move on. That was why she had accepted the Thorpes' offer. Thus, Justine returned to Sol. Who would have thought Justine would marry someone not long after? Aurora knew how much Justine had loved Ares. There was no way she could have accepted another man in her life so soon—let alone a husband. Fearing it was a political marriage of convenience at the cost of her child's agency, Aurora had rushed to Sol. That was when she met Ash Vanderbilt. The young man had just returned from studying abroad. Most terrifying, though, was how much he resembled Ares physically. The only difference between them was the feeling they evoked. Justine had gone mad! She had latched onto Ash as if he were her last hope, utterly convinced in her denial that Ash Vanderbilt was an amnesiac Ares Vance. Any mention of the truth—Ares' death—would send Justine into uncontrollable hysteria. So why was she so different today? Why was she looking at Aurora with such crushing dejection in her eyes… without a single retort of denial? "Y-You know… he's not him, d-don't you?" Aurora whispered shakily. Justine nodded tearfully. Of course, she knew! Ahhh, Ash could not muster even the smallest amount of the kindness Ares had so effortlessly displayed. However, back then, Justine could not bear the thought of living in a world without Ares. She had deluded herself, clinging to an impostor, surviving through Ash's superficial semblance of him. How else could she have lived this long? But Ash... was a disappointment. He wore those suits so frequently now that it had become harder and harder to see Ares' ghost in him. Aurora let out a pained sob. "No, no, no. How cruel has he been to you…" How cruel had Ash been to Justine? How much hurt had she endured to break a spell so ingrained in her? What had it taken for Justine to admit she had been living in a delusion? The implication stabbed Aurora like a knife. The equipment connected to her began to beep shrillily in alarm. Justine panicked. She was about to call the nurse when Aurora suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Jean… once I'm gone, you're not bound to anyone in this world anymore… Do you understand me?" she croaked. "Leave them. Go home. L-Live… your life... You are free, Jean." Justine nodded frantically, pressing the emergency button over and over. Aurora's breathing grew erratic, but her eyes were fixed on Justine. She could not leave just yet. Her precious girl was still there, all alone. No one would stand for her. No one would speak for her. Alone. "J-Jean..." she whispered one last time, holding Justine's hand. "C-Call me..." Justine trembled. "Call me... M-Mom..." Aurora exhausted all her strength. Her body collapsed into Justine's arms, her breath short. The old woman was hyperventilating, looking at Justine with a pleading gaze. Justine had not been born mute. It was trauma—from before her time in the orphanage—that had caused her mutism. Aurora had taken her to countless specialists, but the effects of the treatments had been discouragingly small. Now, all Justine could hear was the ringing in her ears. She nodded vigorously and opened her mouth, trying to force out a sound. Her throat felt strange. Panic welled inside her. Time seemed to slow. All she could produce was silence. The nurses rushed into the room, and Justine felt herself being pulled away from Aurora. Chaos surrounded her, accompanied by the incessant ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard the long beep from the machine that the ringing finally subsided. One of the nurses gently closed Aurora's eyes. She had been watching Justine until the very end. Then, they covered her pain-twisted face with a piece of white cloth. It was not the first corpse Justine had ever seen. The first time was at a funeral home in Glascape. Aurora had howled, her voice thick with tears, "Ares! no, no!" 'You see this, Ares? You loved me so much, and yet I wasn't there when you ended your life. I never even visited you once in so many years. 'She raised me, right? She just wanted me to call her Mom. And I couldn't even do that. 'I'm a terrible person,' Justine thought. - Aurora had left notes for her burial. There was to be no funeral. She wanted to be cremated immediately. She had also appointed Justine to decide what to do with her ashes and belongings. As Aurora was pushed into the crematory, the nurse who had cared for her the longest collapsed to her knees in tears, howling. But Justine could only watch in cursed silence. Her lips were pale as she tried to call out to Aurora in her mind. - The first snow had arrived on Sol. Ash's meeting had just ended. Robin Letto, his secretary, rushed to his side. "Mr. Vanderbilt! Ms. Pearce said she can't seem to contact Mrs. Vanderbilt," she said hesitantly, too afraid to even breathe too loudly. Ash’s mood had been in the gutters today. It was as if the air itself could freeze around him. Logically, after regaining full control over the family business and outmaneuvering his uncles, Ash should have been overjoyed. Yet, he was the exact opposite. Ash frowned. "Fine." He expected her to regret it, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Now, divorce was back on the table. Despite Ash's thoughts, there was a renewed spring in his step, something even he failed to notice. Nearby, Robin acutely sensed the change in his demeanor. His mood, unexpectedly, seemed to have improved. Ash returned to his office and booted up his laptop. The document he had been working on appeared on the screen: the divorce agreement. He had been revising the terms of the compensation Justine was entitled to receive. The offers were generous. The money alone would be enough for her to live comfortably for a lifetime. He had purchased a property for her abroad. Knowing she had been accepted as the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale, he had bought her a villa in Voue, the capital city of Charlemagne, where the ballet company was based. To Ash, these gestures were his way of expressing gratitude for saving his life. - At noon, a meticulously dolled-up Jenny stepped into Ash's car, and they drove to a Michelin-starred restaurant she had been eager to visit for ages. Grinning sweetly, she cooed, "Ngaww, I don't know what came over me! I just had to eat at this restaurant! You're such a gem, Ashie!" Ash smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're happy." Jenny nodded firmly. "Of course I am! You're always so nice to me." She hesitated for a moment. "Um… Did Justine… you know…" Ash's smile faded. "Let's just eat." Jenny felt a surge of satisfaction at his darkened expression at the mere mention of Justine. Lunch soon ended, and Ash needed to return to work. "I've kept you long enough, Ashie! Good luck with work!" she said brightly. "I'm off to meet my friends for afternoon tea!" Ash briefly glanced at her belly. "Please take care of yourself." "Of course!" she chirped, waving him off. Once he was out of sight, Jenny's smile disappeared. The innocence drained from her expression as she dialed a number. "Hey. Are you sure Justine will be at the Thierry family's soiree?" she asked.	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2,526,214	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2526216}'	No	2024-11-24 19:29	active	1919	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ***** Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ***** "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	838	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455715339_410984478152267_9166489231231977406_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2dobJS1WFecQ7kNvgFFMDDr&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A1O3cmHalsxmxuoyytbCBUC&oh=00_AYC1ztpAex3wKXffKLa-SBmRP9sBmkPU0CxyMNKF6d2oQA&oe=6749B190	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,524,098	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524447}'	No	2024-11-24 19:01	active	1919	😍Read the next chapters👉	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..."	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gqZ7YsLRBDEQ7kNvgGnhfxq&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=At-52rFSmlbTm9ybhhHc7yh&oh=00_AYDPjeE6SbrAqcq5WOMYy283wBJS2t2g2hCx5CwtRMyh8w&oe=674998CC	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,523,861	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2523864}'	No	2024-11-24 18:59	active	1917	New Traders Love This Strategy	2024 is coming to an end, you're not prepared for what's coming in 2025... As Ai is taking over the world, and the stock market (+70% of the stock market is traded using robots). Isn't that crazy?! The most millionaires are created in the stock market... I have been able to master the skill of trading and trade live with my community. If you are looking for real traders with real results, then: Click below to learn my trading system for free and decide if you want to LIVE trade with me 1 ON 1.	LEARN_MORE	https://prolifictraders.com/v261397657170897002976	Prolific Traders	https://www.facebook.com/61559589329990/	438	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	prolifictraders.com	VIDEO		https://prolifictraders.com/v2613976571708970029766	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468011936_1129924645322044_4853288553562580688_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=o4YaI2qxNdAQ7kNvgGfs2M3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AwtVsA03UIqd63TLBNa_RI6&oh=00_AYCuKSdFZz5VSBk5PzNWDRr4nutvXUE-uoTyWwEvdFwxlg&oe=67499CC6	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Prolific Traders	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,523,607	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2523612}'	No	2024-11-24 18:57	active	1919	He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......”	💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar	LEARN_MORE	https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	838	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	findedc.com	DCO		https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&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/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=m0ftvVeR-7YQ7kNvgFRytj8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AkWDRAzc9tbY5TJGtkmZc9N&oh=00_AYBurmugiIws-1QcNpgqc0tzDW_8G1kn-1aLik1k7UssCw&oe=674998BD	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,522,867	/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	2024-11-24 18:50	active	1917		Para ella, casarse con su mejor amigo y quedar embarazada de su hijo fue un sueño hecho realidad. Pero en ese momento feliz, la mujer que amaba su marido regresó... ===== ¿Lo había oído bien? ¿Estoy embarazada? ¡Estoy embarazada de un bebé de Pierce! ¡Mi mejor amigo y mi primer amor! --Qué bueno que haya sido cautelosa, pudo haber perdido a su bebé, señorita Monroe --me dijo el ginecólogo con seriedad al ver la sorpresa en mis ojos. En ese momento, me toqué el vientre inconscientemente, sin poder creer que hubiera un bebé acostado allí. Cuando salí del hospital, no podía esperar para contarle a Pierce sobre nuestro bebé. Me preguntaba cuál sería su reacción. ¿Gritaría de felicidad? ¿Me baría y todo eso? ¡Dios! No podía contener mi felicidad. Incluso tomé mi cara roja entre mis manos mientras fantaseaba. Pero en el momento en que sentí el frío del anillo en mi dedo, mi corazón que latía salvajemente se calmó. Casi olvidaba que Pierce no estaba interesado en tener hijos, menos considerando que nuestro matrimonio fue arreglado por su familia. Por supuesto, Pierce era un completo caballero, como amigo y como marido. Cada vez que teníamos relaciones suales, él era considerado y cauteloso, y decía que no era necesario agregar más ataduras si no estábamos listos. Este bebé, en cierto modo, estaba fuera de los planes. --Señora, ¿está todo bien? ¿Necesita que llame al jefe? --preguntó mi conductor privado, Luke, preocupado al notar mi ceño fruncido. Luke era confiable como un miembro de la familia, pero no quería contarle porque quería que Pierce fuera el primero en enterarse de esta noticia. Él era el padre de mi bebé. --No --dije y negué con la cabeza, dándole a Luke una sonrisa tranquilizadora--. Está en el vuelo. Hablaré con él más tarde --y así vería su respuesta yo misma en sus crudas expresiones. Siempre fui buena en eso. Finalmente, cerré los ojos y recordé el día en que nos conocimos. Su brillante sonrisa a la luz del sol era tan deslumbrante que parecía un príncipe. Me enamoré de él a primera vista, mucho antes de que nos convirtiéramos en mejores amigos. Pero era sólo un amor no correspondido y yo lo sabía bien. En ese instante, bajé la ventanilla del auto para tomar un poco de aire fresco y, sin quererlo, vislumbré nuestra antigua escuela secundaria. Ese sentimiento amargo llenó mi pecho una vez más... Pierce fue mi primer amor, pero yo no era el suyo. En la escuela secundaria, yo no era más que una nerd aburrida a los ojos de los demás, mientras que Pierce Anderson era el brillante mariscal de campo. Todos se sorprendieron de que pudiéramos ser amigos. Aunque las hostilidades hacia mí aumentaron, disfruté estar cerca de él y poco a poco me di cuenta de que no quería ser sólo su amiga. Sin embargo, justo cuando estaba a punto de confesarle mis sentimientos, otra chica llegó a su vida. Sacudí la cabeza tratando de deshacerme de esos viejos y tristes recuerdos. Luego toqué el frío anillo de bodas en mi dedo y me dije que el pasado ya había pasado. Pierce dijo que habían terminado y que ahora yo era su esposa. Sí, yo era su esposa y además estaba embarazada de su bebé. Pronto, me sequé las lágrimas de las comisuras de los ojos y abrí la puerta de nuestra casa. Mi corazón se calmó al respirar el aroma de mi hogar, nuestra casa. Pierce y yo la decoramos juntos con nuestras propias manos. Lo disfrutamos. Sí, tal vez estaba pensando demasiado. Esa mujer había estado fuera de nuestras vidas durante mucho tiempo y los últimos tres años mi matrimonio con Pierce fueron tan hermosos como un cuento de hadas. Una vez dentro, miré el reloj de la pared. Para ese entonces, Pierce ya debería haberse bajado del avión. Estuvo más de un mes en viajes de negocios de nuestra empresa familiar. Pierce era el presidente de ADE, la empresa de revistas de moda líder en toda Asia, y yo era la vicepresidente de la compañía. No sólo éramos compañeros de vida, sino también buenos socios en el trabajo. En verdad lo extrañaba. De inmediato, marqué su número, pues tenía muchas ganas de escuchar su voz y saber cuándo llegaría a casa. Le prepararía una buena comida y él me premiaría con un dulce beso. Y luego podríamos... Vaya, en ese momento casi olvidé que estaba embarazada. Debía contarle eso primero y luego podríamos hacer otra cosa. Estaba imaginando felizmente nuestra encantadora reunión, pero mi corazón dio un vuelco cuando una voz de mujer cruzó la línea. --¿Hola? Al escuchar esa sola palabra, dejé caer mi teléfono, que se rompió al chocar contra el suelo, y mi cuerpo empezó a temblar incontrolablemente. ¡NO! ¡No podía ser ella! ¡No podía ser Lexi! ¡Ella ya estaba fuera de nuestras vidas! Debí haber escuchado mal. De inmediato, corrí hacia la nevera en un intento por calmarme con la ayuda de un poco de alhol. Pero en el momento en que toqué la botella de vo, recordé las palabras del médico sobre mi bebé. Debía tener cuidado por la salud de mi bebé, así que solo agarré una caja de leche y caminé hacia el sofá. En ese entonces, no sabía qué me hizo reconocer esa voz como la de Lexi. Nosotras nunca fuimos cercanas. Lexi Gilbert era la típica belleza rubia por la que los hombres se volvían locos. Ella era una animadora popular en la escuela secundaria, mientras que Pierce era el mariscal de campo estrella. Encajaba mejor con él que una nerd como yo, ¿verdad? No me sorprendió que se haya enamorado de ella. Mi orgullo no soportó ver al hombre que amaba volverse loco por otra mujer, así que una vez intenté alejarme de ellos en silencio, pero Pierce se negó a salirse de mi vida. Cada vez que me ahogaba en un mar de libros y estudios para olvidarlos, Pierce aparecía en mi puerta invitándome a salir. No podía decirle que no a su sonrisa encantadora y tampoco podía decirle que no porque afirmaba que era su deber como mi mejor amigo llevarme a disfrutar del mundo real. Para no arruinar nuestra amistad, oculté mi corazón roto y desempeñé en silencio el papel de su mejor amiga, siempre a su lado y observando su rostro feliz por otra chica. Finalmente, cuando supe que Pierce planeaba proponerle matrimonio a Lexi, me armé de valor y fui a estudiar al extranjero, sin saber que su abuela me llamaría para rogarme que regresara. Por supuesto, volví a toda prisa sólo para ver a Pierce sin vida. Lexi le había herido gravemente el corazón y el mío sufría por mi amado. Empecé a odiar a Lexi desde ese momento. Le había entregado a mi amado hombre, ¡cómo se atrevió a hacerle tanto daño! ¡Esa bruja! Pierce no le contó a nadie lo que pasó, excepto que había terminado con Lexi. Luego, la abuela arregló nuestro matrimonio. No entendí por qué estuvo de acuerdo hasta que un día lo escuché decir que casarse con cualquiera que no fuera Lexi sería lo mismo para él. Aquello me dolió mucho, pero aun así me casé con él sin pensarlo dos veces. Mi amado estaba destrozado y quería recomponerlo, sin importarme si eso me arruinaba a mí en el proceso. Me quedé dormida sintiéndome muy insegura y preocupada. Me desperté en medio de la noche cuando sentí que alguien acariciaba mi mejilla. Lentamente abrí los ojos y me di cuenta de que me había quedado dormida en la sala de estar. Alguien me levantó del sofá e inmediatamente reconocí su olor y tacto mientras lo miraba con los ojos entrecerrados. --Pierce… --Hmm --murmuró mientras caminaba hacia las escaleras--. ¿Por qué te dormiste en el sofá? Yo solo me quedé mirándolo a la cara y luego me dejó suavemente sobre la cama, acarició mi cabello y besó mi frente. Siempre fue tan gentil y por eso lo amaba tanto. Llevábamos más de un mes separados, mi cuerpo lo extrañaba y mi corazón lo anhelaba. --¿Dónde estabas? Te estuve esperando --dije mientras acariciaba su mejilla. --Acabo de encontrarme con un amigo. Dijiste que me estabas esperando, ¿es urgente? Al ver su rostro amable, de repente no quise arruinarle el momento, así que cerré mis labios entreabiertos y tragué la verdad para devolverla a mi estómago. Mañana, tal vez mañana tendría el coraje de afrontar todos los rompecabezas. De modo que solo sacudí la cabeza, hice un puchero y le dije que tenía sueño. Él se rió entre dientes y me dio un beso de buenas noches, pero en el momento en que estuvo a punto de dejarme, por alguna razón entré en pánico. Rápidamente lo agarré y lo bsé con toda mi pasión... Lo extrañaba y lo quería. --Espera, Kels --dijo y me detuvo, sujetando mis locas manos sobre la cama--. Pensé que habías dicho que tenías sueño y que necesitabas descansar. --Sí, pero te extraño --exclamé y lo miré con inocencia. Pude captar el deseo brillando en sus ojos, pero se desvaneció de pronto y yo no comprendía por qué. Solía ponerse feliz cuando yo tomaba la iniciativa. En ese instante, como si notara mi confusión, se rió entre dientes y me pellizcó juguetonamente la nariz. --Me daré una ducha. Huelo a alhol --manifestó. Yo solo asentí y lo miré mientras caminaba hacia el baño. Pronto la somnolencia volvió a atacarme, así que cerré los ojos para tomar una siesta. Sin embargo, ya era de mañana cuando abrí los ojos nuevamente y Pierce estaba a mi lado, poniendo una bandeja con comida en la mesita de noche. --¡Ey! --lo saludé y sonreí cuando me di cuenta de lo que había hecho. Me había preparado el desayuno para llevármelo a la cama. Era tan dulce. Él sonrió y se sentó en la cama. --Buen día. Le devolví la sonrisa mientras me sentaba en la cama. En ese momento, agarró la bandeja y la puso a mi lado. Al instante, levanté una ceja e incliné la cabeza mientras miraba su hermoso rostro. Sus cejas espesas y negras enmarcaban sus hermosos ojos de color marrón oscuro. Su nariz era orgullosa y puntiaguda y sus labios eran rojos y finos. Parecía un chico malo y sxy, incluso Damon Salvatore se avergonzaría de estar a su lado. Nadie tenía posibilidad alguna contra este hombre. --¿Qué es esto? ¿Un soborno? Me dejaste plantada anoche, chico malo --dije. Él no se rió. Exhaló un suspiro y colocó con suavidad mi cabello detrás de mis orejas antes de tomar mi mano y mirarme a los ojos. --Tengo algo que decirte. Al instante, sentí que mi corazón se aceleraba y pensé en nuestro bebé en mi útero. Tenía algo que decirme, yo también tenía algo que contarle. --¿Q-Qué cosa? --pregunté con voz temblorosa. De repente, dio un profundo suspiro y comenzó: --Sabes que eres importante para mí, ¿verdad? Asentí lentamente con los labios entreabiertos. No pude responder, tenía miedo de lo que estaba a punto de decir. Tenía un mal presentimiento. --Eras mi mejor amiga antes de casarnos. Eres una de las pocas personas que valoro… --prosiguió. Mientras hablaba, escondí mis puños cerrados debajo de la sábana. No sabía por qué me decía todo esto, pero ya podía sentir las lágrimas acumulándose en el rabillo de mis ojos. --Kelly... --hizo una pausa y cerró los ojos con fuerza antes de volver a mirarme a los ojos--. Creo que es hora de que nos divorciemos. --P-Pierce… --exclamé y sentí que mi corazón se apretaba. Él sonrió. --Sé que tú tampoco sientes nada por mí. Te casaste conmigo por mis abuelos, hiciste esto solo porque los amas. Ahora llegó el momento de nuestra verdadera felicidad, Kelly. Al oírlo, no pude evitar sacudir la cabeza. --¿De qué estás hablando, Pierce? --inquirí. --Lexi ha vuelto, Kelly. Mi primer amor ha vuelto. Capítulo 2 Punto de vista de Kelly--Llueve sobre mojado De inmediato, me levanté de la cama e intenté irme, pero Pierce me agarró la mano. Rápidamente me sequé las lágrimas que rodaban por mis mejillas antes de que él pudiera verlas. Luego, se paró frente a mí y me miró a la cara mientras yo intentaba con todas mis fuerzas mirar hacia abajo y evitar verlo a los ojos. Sentí que mi corazón se rompía en pedazos. Pensaba… pensaba que podría hacer que se enamorara de mí en esos tres años que pasamos juntos. Pensaba que sus sentimientos cambiarían y me vería como una mujer en lugar de solo su mejor amiga. Fui estúpida por tener esperanzas y soñar tan alto. Fallé. Sin importar cuánto lo intentara, su corazón pertenecía sólo a su primer amor: Lexi. --Kelly… En ese momento, contuve el aliento y me tragué el dolor mientras lo miraba. Luego fingí una sonrisa y dije: --Debo lavarme las manos antes de comer. Pero él me miró a los ojos como si intentara descubrir lo que estaba pensando. Yo sabía que él me conocía demasiado bien, así que traté con todas mis fuerzas de ocultar mi dolor y le sonreí. Finalmente, suspiró y soltó mi mano. --Bueno. Te esperaré aquí. Comamos y vayamos a trabajar juntos. ¿Juntos? ¿Por qué era tan cruel? ¿Quería que nos siguiéramos llevando bien como si no me hubiera pedido el divorcio? ¿Quería que nos quedáramos como estábamos justo después de decirme que su primer amor había regresado y quería divorciarse de mí? Oh Pierce, ¿qué estaba pasando por tu cabeza? Antes podía obligarme a mí misma a quedarme en el puesto de su mejor amiga mientras le deseaba felicidad, pero ya no tenía ese coraje después de los tres años que habíamos compartido. No había manera de que pudiera soportar esa tortura otra vez, en especial ahora que cargaba a su bebé. El bebé... en un principio pensé que era una buena noticia para nosotros, pero ahora... supongo que sería más bien una carga para él. Una carga que le impediría conseguir su verdadero amor y su libertad. Yo sabía muy bien cómo crecía un niño no deseado. Mis padres se divorciaron antes de que mi madre muriera y la nueva familia de mi padre me odiaba, lo que me dolía muchísimo. Por eso no quería que mi bebé experimentara lo mismo que yo sentí, así que debía mantener a mi bebé alejado de él. --No podemos --dije mientras fingía una nueva sonrisa--. Debo visitar el estudio para la sesión de fotos de nuestros nuevos modelos… --Iré contigo. --No --contesté y aparté su mano. Sus ojos siguieron mi mano antes de levantar la cara para mirarme de nuevo--. Tienes documentos que firmar. Nuestros horarios ya están organizados, ¿recuerdas? --Pero… --Tengo un conductor personal, Pierce. Estaré bien sola --afirmé. Finalmente, suspiró y asintió con calma. En ese momento, le di la espalda y entré al baño. Inmediatamente abrí la ducha y me paré bajo el agua fría. Las lágrimas cayeron en cascada por mis mejillas mientras me cubría la boca para reprimir los sollozos. Mis hombros temblaban mucho y cuando pensé en mi bebé, tragué saliva y traté de calmarme. Luego me limpié la cara y acaricié mi vientre. Debía ser fuerte y mantener la calma. No podía arriesgar la vida de mi bebé sólo porque me habían roto el corazón. Tenía que lidiar con esto de forma inteligente. Unos minutos después, tomé un respiro profundo y terminé mi ducha. Cuando salí del baño, me sorprendió ver que Pierce todavía estaba allí. Estaba luchando por arreglarse la corbata frente al espejo de cuerpo entero. También noté un par de zapatos y un vestido míos sobre la cama. --¡Ey! Elegí tu vestido para hoy --dijo. Como nuestro matrimonio no era público, Pierce dijo que haría pequeñas cosas para mí como marido. De hecho, lo había hecho bien y yo solía disfrutar de estos dulces momentos que me regalaba, pero ahora sentía que eso mismo me maría. Al segundo siguiente, agarré el vestido y entré al vestidor, sentiendo que me seguía. Volví a guardar el vestido blanco y elegí uno rojo. Cuando me di vuelta y lo tuve de frente, lo vi con la frente arrugada. --Hoy prefiero el rojo. Me sentiré hermosa con este vestido --expliqué con una sonrisa. Al instante, sus ojos se dirigieron al vestido que sostenía y su rostro inmediatamente se calmó. Al final asintió y caminó hacia mí. --Ya veo. Pero antes ayúdame a arreglar esto --me pidió. Sin dudarlo, puse mi vestido en su brazo y comencé a arreglarle la corbata. Podía sentir sus ojos mirándome intensamente y eso hacía que mi corazón latiera muy rápido. Respiré hondo y me mordí el labio inferior mientras luchaba por arreglar su corbata. De pronto, mi visión se volvió borrosa otra vez. ¡Maldición! --Kelly… No pude evitar sobresaltarme en shock. --¿Mmm? --¿Estás bien? --preguntó. Lo miré y sonreí: --Sí. --Tengo algo más que decirte. En ese instante, terminé de arreglarle la corbata y le quité rápidamente el vestido del brazo. Lo miré antes de pasar junto a él y dije: --Hablaremos después. Voy a llegar tarde. Lo escuché suspirar antes de volver a seguirme. Me vestí mientras él estaba detrás de mí. Estuvo en silencio todo el tiempo, como si estuviera pensando en algo. --Deberías desayunar antes de irte --comentó. Un segundo después, me paré frente a él y asentí. --Lo haré. Deberías irte ahora --respondí. --Kelly, estamos en la misma página, ¿verdad? --preguntó. Lo miré fijamente. No, Pierce. Nunca estuvimos en la misma página. Sólo fueron mis estúpidas fantasías. Pensaba que sentías algo por mí, pero estaba muy equivocada. --Si hablas del divorcio, lo entiendo, Pierce. Sé lo que tengo que hacer. Sólo dame algo de tiempo porque estoy muy ocupada con la empresa. No huiré. --Kelly, no estoy haciendo esto sólo por mí. También lo hago por ti. Has estado encerrada conmigo desde que nos casamos. Sé que no eres feliz porque en el fondo también quieres encontrar al hombre que te mereces. Alguien que realmente te ame, no yo. No alguien indiferente. --Entiendo lo que tratas de decir, Pierce --dije y traté de darle la espalda, pero antes de poder hacerlo, él me sujetó por la cintura y me mantuvo en el lugar. Luego hizo todo lo posible para captar mis ojos hasta que lo consiguió. Su mirada era de preocupación. --Eres mi mejor amiga. No quiero perderte, Kels. Eres una de las pocas personas… --Lo sé --lo interrumpí con frustración. Parecía sorprendido, así que me calmé--. Ya lo sé. No tienes que preocuparte. Simplemente estoy estresada por el trabajo, no es por el divorcio. En ese instante, sus labios se separaron, asintió lentamente y soltó un suspiro. Luego, caminó hacia mí y me congelé cuando besó mi frente con dulzura… --Gracias, Kelly --susurró. Al oírlo, mi corazón se apretó. Habían pasado tres años pero todavía era una cobarde. «¿Por qué no puedes simplemente decirle que lo amas, Kelly? ¡Él es tu esposo y estás llevando su bebé! ¡Díselo y tal vez cambie de opinión!» pensé. Con eso en mente, tragué saliva y estuve a punto de decírselo, pero justo en ese momento su teléfono sonó. Pude ver el identificador de llamadas. Era Lexi. --Me tengo que ir --afirmó y se rascó la cabeza a modo de disculpa, mientras las comisuras de su boca se curvaban hacia arriba--. Llamé a Luke. Te espera afuera. Come antes de irte, ¿sí? Con eso, salió de nuestra habitación. De repente, las lágrimas que había logrado reprimir hasta ese momento volvieron a brotar. ¿Por qué había pensado que podría tener una oportunidad? Él tomó su decisión en el momento en que me pidió el divorcio, ¿verdad? Siempre que se trataba de Lexi me abandonaba. Capítulo 3 Punto de vista de Kelly--Mantener la compostura Entré al estudio con tacones rojos de cinco centímetros y un vestido igualmente rojo. Todos miraron en mi dirección cuando entré caminando por el pasillo y me saludaron con una sonrisa, pero mantuve mi rostro estoico, sin mostrar emoción alguna. La conversación de esa mañana con Pierce todavía estaba en mi cabeza, pero no podía permitir que afectara mi trabajo. No podía fallar en mi trabajo después de haber fracasado en mi matrimonio. De modo que respiré profundamente para recomponerme. Un momento después, cuando entré a la sala de la sesión de fotos, noté que todos estaban sumidos en el caos. --¡No podemos! No responde las llamadas. ¿Qué debemos hacer? La vicepresidente viene hoy, se enojará. --Podemos simplemente decirle la verdad. Ella es amable. --¡No lo será con esta situación, Lily! Nos va a regañar... --¿Qué está pasando aquí? --pregunté mientras entraba a la sala. De inmediato, el personal me miró con expresiones preocupadas y entonces supe que había un problema. --B-Buenos días, señorita Monroe. Señorita Monroe. Por supuesto, nadie sabía que Pierce y yo estábamos casados excepto nuestras familias. Sentí como si pellizcaran mi corazón con esa verdad. Dolía. Rápidamente, la miré sin comprender. --¿Qué ocurre? --T-tenemos un problema, señorita Monroe. La señorita Chen, nuestra modelo, no atiende nuestras llamadas. Dijo que escuchó que íbamos a cambiar de modelo así que… no quiere venir. Incluso... amenazó con presentar una demanda contra nosotros. Después de decir eso, inclinó la cabeza. Yo apreté los dientes y recorrí el lugar con la mirada. --¿Dónde está la directora de marketing? --inquirí. --E-Ella todavía está tratando de convencer a la señorita Chen, señorita Monroe. Luego de escuchar el problema, me masajeé la frente y cerré los ojos con fuerza. Un segundo después, me agarré del pelo y grité de ira. Sentí que todos a mi alrededor se sobresaltaban sorprendidos. Yo solo suspiré y tomé una gran bocanada de aire antes de mirar a mi alrededor. --Señorita Monroe... --¿Qué es todo esto, señorita Hayley? Tú eres la directora de marketing, ¿qué está pasando? --Señorita Monroe, no sé cómo sucedió, pero la señorita Chen escuchó que usted cambiará de modelo. Está a punto de presentar una demanda contra nosotros... ¿Cambiar de modelo? ¿Cómo es que yo no sabía nada al respecto? La señorita Chen siempre había sido nuestra modelo de confianza y, si no era necesario, cambiar de modelo para una sesión comercial con tan poca antelación sólo causaría muchos problemas a la empresa. Nunca permitiría un error como este. --Yo no pedí eso. Debe ser un error --la interrumpí para ahorrar tiempo--. ¡Arregla este desastre o tendré que despedirte! --Señorita Monroe... Fue el presidente quien nos pidió que la cambiáramos --explicó Hayley vacilante--. Lo ordenó ayer tan pronto como regresó de su viaje de negocios. Aquella verdad me golpeó con fuerza. ¿Fue orden de Pierce? ¿Por qué no me lo dijo? Solía discutir conmigo cada decisión importante antes de tomarla. --No puede ser... --exclamé confundida. Pierce no era un hombre de negocios despistado. Siempre mantuvo una clara distinción entre el trabajo y la vida personal, razón por la cual siempre tuvo éxito. Y esa fue también la razón por la que decidió mantener nuestro matrimonio en secreto. --Sí, Kelly. Yo di la orden. --Su voz me hizo retroceder. --S-Señor Presidente… --saludó Hayley y se inclinó con respeto al ver al hombre que apareció de repente detrás de mí. --Pierce, ¡creo que me debes una explicación sobre este cambio de modelo! --dije con los dientes apretados mientras me giraba para interrogarlo. Él sabía perfectamente cuánto esfuerzo puse para ganar este proyecto. Estuve días sin dormir y la señorita Chen era la persona ideal para este trabajo. De hecho, él también estuvo de acuerdo. Pero ahora… simplemente cambió la modelo a su gusto sin avisarme con antelación. Eso fue como abofetearme con fuerza en la cara. --Continúen con el trabajo. Yo se lo aclararé --le indicó él al personal para calmarlos, ignorando la ira que estaba a punto de salir de mis ojos. --¡Contéstame, Pierce! ¿Por qué cambias de modelo tan de repente? --No pude contener mi enojo. Él simplemente me tocó el hombro y me susurró: --Este no es el lugar para discutir al respecto. Te lo explicaré en el auto. En ese momento, miré a mi alrededor y noté que los demás nos miraban furtivamente. Luego me quité sus manos de encima y caminé hacia el estacionamiento, pero durante el camino, sentía mi corazón cada vez más pesado. Tenía la sensación de que su explicación no iba a gustarme. --Vamos, dímelo --exclamé ni bien nos sentamos en su auto. Antes de hablar, me miró a los ojos como si sopesara mis emociones, pero yo aparté la mirada de nuevo. No podía soportar sus miradas, no podía soportar esos ojos que nunca me miraban como yo quería. Él no sentía nada por mí y eso me dolía mucho. --Yo-yo… --hizo una pausa y suspiró--. Reemplacé a la señorita Chen porque Lexi quiere ser nuestra modelo. Ella también encaja en el proyecto, así que estuve de acuerdo... --¿Qué? --pregunté con incredulidad. De pronto, apretó los labios y miró hacia otro lado. Luego se revolvió el cabello antes de sacudir la cabeza y tomar mi mano. --Lamento no haberte dicho antes, fue muy repentino. Ella me pidió un favor, no pude decirle que no. Rápidamente, retiré mi mano y lo miré con dolor y enojo. --No pudiste decirle que no, así que preferiste dañar a la empresa, a nuestra empresa. Me traicionaste, Pierce. --Kels, vamos. Sabes cuánto la amo. Ella es mi primer amor. Al oírlo, cerré los ojos con dolor. «Oh sí, ella es tu primer amor. Siempre la quisiste a ella, sin que te importen los demás. Si ella te frunce el ceño un poco, puedes hacer la vista gorda ante el dolor y el esfuerzo de los demás. Eres tan cruel, Pierce» pensé. --Bueno, ya lo has decidido. No tengo voz y voto en esto ya que tú eres el presidente. Ahora vete, estaré en la oficina --indiqué con frialdad mientras abría la puerta del auto para salir. --Kelly… En ese instante, lo miré a los ojos y dije: --Ve a casa temprano. Hablaremos de nuestro divorcio esta noche. Capítulo 4 Punto de vista de Kelly--Plantada Me encontraba jugueteando con el anillo de bodas en mi dedo mientras lo esperaba. Le había dicho que volviera temprano a casa, pero todavía no regresaba y ni siquiera contestaba mis llamadas. Bueno, ahora que Lexi había vuelto, probablemente ya no veía a esta casa como su hogar. De pronto, mis ojos se dirigieron a mi informe de embarazo que estaba sobre la mesa. Qué gracioso. Todavía era tan ingenua para albergar un rayo de esperanza de que las cosas podrían cambiar si le hablaba del bebé, pero este bebé estaba fuera de sus planes. Me sequé las lágrimas que se acumulaban en el rabillo de mis ojos y agarré el informe. Ya eran las cinco de la mañana cuando miré el reloj de la pared. Intenté marcar su número nuevamente, pero seguía sin responder. ¿En qué estaba tan ocupado? ¿Estaba hiendo el a**r con Lexi? Debió haberla extrañado mucho, ¿verdad? Pronto, sin saber cuándo, me quedé dormida. Cuando sonó el despertador, inconscientemente toqué la almohada a mi lado. Frío como anoche, no había vuelto a casa todavía. Me burlé de mí misma al ver mi reflejo en el espejo de la cómoda. Los círculos oscuros bajo mis ojos se veían a simple vista y mi cabello era un total desastre, parecía un fantasma. De repente una oleada de náuseas inundó mi estómago y me di cuenta de que no había comido nada la noche anterior. De pronto, me sentí mal otra vez y rápidamente corrí hacia el lavabo y vomité. Escupí un líquido amarillento que sabía muy mal. De inmediato, me lavé la boca y miré mi propio reflejo en el espejo. Al verme, sacudí la cabeza y tomé mi frente en cuanto sentí ganas de vomitar de nuevo. Volví a escupir el líquido amarillento y mientras me lavaba la boca, sentí una cálida mano acariciando mi espalda. Inmediatamente levanté la cara y me encontré con un par de ojos marrones que me miraban a través del espejo. Detrás de mí con cara de preocupación estaba mi esposo Pierce. --¿Estás bien? ¿Te sientes mal? Debiste haberme dicho. Al instante, lo miré a través del espejo. --No respondiste mis llamadas --contesté. Ante aquellas palabras, la culpa apareció en sus ojos. --Lo lamento. Tenía cosas que hacer. Me quedé en la oficina toda la noche --afirmó. Rápidamente, me limpié la cara y pasé junto a él. Pierce me siguió mientras me sentaba frente al tocador y comenzaba a peinarme. --Kels… --Me desperté tarde. No pude preparar el desayuno. Mientras hablaba, intenté evitar sus ojos. Sentía que iba a perder los estribos y gritarle. En ningún momento sentí su egoísmo tan claramente como ahora. Decía que yo era su mejor amiga, pero nunca le habían importado mis necesidades, mis sentimientos. --Kels... sabes que no te pregunté eso. Estoy preocupado por tu salud... Kels, ¿todavía estamos bien? Ante aquella pregunta, dejé de peinarme y lentamente nuestras miradas se encontraron a través del espejo, otra vez. ¿De verdad me estaba preguntando eso? ¿Después de que me pidió el divorcio sin siquiera preguntarme si estaba de acuerdo? Él decidió por su cuenta sólo porque su primer amor había vuelto. No podía creer lo que hacía. Al final, fingí una sonrisa y dije: --No me siento bien hoy, Pierce, eso es todo. Un instante después, se puso de cuclillas a mi lado, lo cual no me resultó sorprendente porque sabía que realmente se preocupaba. Pero lo que sí me sorprendió fue que hacía todo esto después de enterrar una daga en mi corazón. --¿Estás bien? --preguntó mientras tocaba suavemente mi frente y mi cuello--. ¿Estás enferma? Dime cómo te sientes, Kels. --Mis sentimientos no importan --no pude evitar decir y parecía sorprendido por mis palabras. En ese instante, intenté evitarlo, pero me agarró de la muñeca y me hizo mirarlo. Su rostro ahora reflejaba su ira. Había perdido completamente la paciencia. --¿Qué te pasa, Kels? Has estado actuando así desde ayer. ¿Es por Lexi? ¿O porque no volví a casa anoche? --inquirió. Yo lo miré a los ojos, molesta. --¡Tú fuiste quien pidió el divorcio! Te pedí que regresaras temprano para hablar al respecto, pero me dejaste esperando toda la noche. ¿Pretendías que te diera la bienvenida con brazos abiertos después de eso, Pierce? --respondí. Al escucharme, apretó la mandíbula y sacudió la cabeza. --Kels, yo... --Ya basta. Hablaremos del divorcio después del trabajo. --¡Kels! --me llamó y me agarró de los hombros. La confusión y el dolor eran visibles en sus ojos--. ¿Estás... enamorada de mí? Aquello me desconcertó. ¿Enamorada? ¡Sí! Desde que estábamos en la escuela secundaria, desde que se convirtió en mi mejor amigo. ¿Quién no se enamoraría de alguien que te ha estado protegiendo desde entonces? Siempre he estado agradecida de tenerlo como mi mejor amigo y esposo, pero ahora… lo estaba perdiendo. Perdiéndolo irremediablemente. Decidí darle a nuestro matrimonio una última oportunidad, hacer un esfuerzo final... ...... ==== Casarse con su mejor amigo fue un sueño hecho realidad para Kelly, pero todo tiene realmente una limitación. Pierce es el primer amor de Kelly, pero como su mejor amiga, sabía bien que siempre había otra mujer en lo profundo de su corazón. Lexi Gilbert. Kelly finalmente se dio cuenta de que su feliz matrimonio de los últimos tres años era solo un hermoso sueño cuando Pierce pidió el divorcio solo porque Lexi regresó. Ella sólo podría ser su mejor amiga incluso si estuviera encinta de su bebé. ¿Por qué no merecía ser amada? ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? ¿Cómo podría Kelly salvar su corazón en esta batalla de amor y odio? 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/14603375-fb_contact-spc	Fun Novels	https://www.facebook.com/61563251196448/	1,913	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.manobook.com	VIDEO		https://fbweb.manobook.com/14603375-fb_contact-spcp25_2-1030-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=157725&accid=860298072104208&rawadid=120215913788010204	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467842243_1163795991969255_4550109357511398163_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=r3kYgWXW7QMQ7kNvgFYQf-F&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AY0NMCzXwa-iNzInSOyyXcl&oh=00_AYBDZY1sb-PYlZVrdzcDmMX_8kc7hne2LhquTXhlA3iX5Q&oe=6749B047	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Fun Novels	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,526,026	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2526288}'	No	2024-11-24 19:27	active	1919	Read more FREE chapters👉	"You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14193&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/t39.35426-6/460350278_1658471474952018_3949899282791425892_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0bhPpX0JUqAQ7kNvgHwGy7u&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdFHL6Tdw4a2ojPeaggIX6n&oh=00_AYCOeVZ_bfRvqG_HsnWB2ab6bfpxm_KszFSn1yhyEY3VWQ&oe=6749A3EA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,525,651	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2524682}'	No	2024-11-24 19:21	active	1919	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” I hear the Beta Kyle scream. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment he sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. I don’t make a sound. Years of experience has taught me to keep my mouth shut at all times. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” He snaps. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t answer, I keep my eyes low so that I didn’t have to look at his face. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. From what I gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding me of how worthless I am. The clearing of a throat makes me jump. I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. I do as I’m told. Allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” My head moved up and down, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. “I am…I am a Wolf.” I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever liked to do. They never hear my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them. There was no way I was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through me. “For killing my parents.” I whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him...	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,763	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&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/t39.35426-6/451012171_848801020466481_244664085103969422_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0qWdYNvfLO8Q7kNvgFa7ZZD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ANOmYwfhp_t5fwKpKdunqaJ&oh=00_AYDlbAxvuF2fwhhoPF4WKS7VU3uHHHllHtH60Apq9hY-jg&oe=6749AAA3	PERSON_PROFILE	0	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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