Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Ads for Sweeps on 2024-12-07

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	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,604,617	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2604344}'	No	2024-12-07 18:42	active	1970		🚨GIVEAWAY ALERT🚨 At 1,000 likes and/or shares, we’re giving away a 2024 Topps Chrome Update Baseball Mega Box to a random follower! 2024 Topps Chrome baseball is loaded with fire pulls, including the chance to snag the highly sought-after Paul Skenes Rookie Debut Patch Auto! 🔥⚾ Like/Follow/Share to enter for your chance to win👍 That’s it! Don’t miss your chance to win this incredible box packed with heat- hit that button💥 . . . . #theawesomecardshop #lasvegas #sportscards #giveaway #toppschrome #rookiepatch #baseballcards #giveawayalert #collecting #collectingcards #sportscardshop #sportscardscollector #toppschromebaseball			The Awesome Card Shop	https://www.facebook.com/Theawesomecardshop/	1,485	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469636237_923474519937092_5449188153983279667_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=T0vgHSzg4w8Q7kNvgHIFfDR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=APDhzJt3tsL4TcHX9sDD2FF&oh=00_AYCoiiF7ofNHB14SpJPVByHxdMmpotBhUhPVfqdtqil5oA&oe=675ABF3F	PERSON_PROFILE	The Awesome Card Shop	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,605,305	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2605801}'	No	2024-12-07 19:00	active	1971	Descargar ahora👉👉👉	No hace falta que busques más. Esta es la serie que estabas deseando ver. ¡No te la pierdas o te arrepentirás! 😍	WATCH_MORE		Miiowtv short000	https://www.facebook.com/61557562951006/	207	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More		DCO	{{product.description}}		1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461558175_1436936056991592_5301050588600371403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=arU9OBu31jAQ7kNvgEdekPR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AbRtzluM44MqnF3yS92FoNA&oh=00_AYAa3wY_5KBLDhfo1_W_-aNnkhc4tkaH2sia7XhvCz8ZCg&oe=675AB1E7	PERSON_PROFILE	Miiowtv short000	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,606,680	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2606548}'	No	2024-12-07 19:36	active	1972	Paint Transformations starting at $249	👋 Hi, I'm Kevin, founder of locally owned, Creative Coats Painting. ❓ Everyone always asks me, "How much would it cost to paint my home?" Well…Each project is unique! 🏠 After you answer a few simple questions about your property, we'll provide a FREE, INSTANT quote. 👆 Click 'GET QUOTE' below! 🌎 We're locally owned & dedicated to our community, which is why we're offering paint transformations starting at $249! Proudly serving Philadelphia, Allentown, Reading, Camden, Royersford & Surrounding Areas!	GET_QUOTE	http://fb.me/	VooltPro Certified Provider	https://www.facebook.com/vooltprocertifiedproviders/	16	1969-12-31 18:00	Get quote	fb.me	VIDEO		http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469331070_1829390614470910_4893575257205937058_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=POHIjv7i9voQ7kNvgGdW_ma&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtUJWfdmgpICz7r0m2InWPh&oh=00_AYDNO_u7sRkLKN7ReAGKkJ9JntpZ046v1GTQEEHcxQ2aSg&oe=675ACC9E	PERSON_PROFILE	VooltPro Certified Provider	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,607,519	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2606449}'	No	2024-12-07 19:36	active	1972	Mindful Gnome Wellness Coaching	Mindful Gnome Wellness Coaching believes in empowering WOMEN to have a life they love by embracing healthier lifestyle practices.	LEARN_MORE		Mindful Gnome Wellness Coaching	https://www.facebook.com/61566555957799/	267	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468913938_1507212739967820_4048594986610976745_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lRw4NoA3GLMQ7kNvgH7p2B5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AvyXRltoWQ7BpagkP1xTsvF&oh=00_AYBqWD8_J6MRH3U6kvdQQPXyjBtz9zSVVChWgztxHjNQxg&oe=675AAFC0	PERSON_PROFILE	Mindful Gnome Wellness Coaching	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,607,861	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-07 19:36	active	1972	The Secrets We Carry	Over 1,100 5-Star Reviews A sweeping story of two women in different centuries who faced similar tragedies that they must overcome to finally feel free. 1917 - Sofiya fled Russia for her life, only to be trapped again in America. She carried with her a secret that could endanger her life forever. 2022 - Addie finds Sofiya’s letters in an old cigar box and is determined to learn more about the young woman. Addie learns that both she and Sofiya share a terrible past. She hopes by restoring the old house in Portland where Sofiya once lived, she can heal the past for Sofiya and herself. Buy Now: Amazon Kindle: http://ow.ly/9EBQ30sjfme Paperback: http://ow.ly/oBAP30soaw5 Audiobook: http://ow.ly/2kRI50Kmvcq Hardcover: http://ow.ly/HVg230soawc	SHOP_NOW	https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Carry-Deanna-Lynn-S	Deanna Lynn Sletten - Author	https://www.facebook.com/Deannalynnsletten/	5,770	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	amazon.com	IMAGE	Read FREE with Kindle Unlimited	https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Carry-Deanna-Lynn-Sletten-ebook/dp/B09ZSV5L9K	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469323239_557440087202668_7210598063878201180_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=M9QMbzIxad0Q7kNvgHloxxD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ap8DQNqx0v_V8qucQVU7Prd&oh=00_AYDvpejQVB_RWiwil1uq2yrM-Qh9B8WCzIXpbuFGaoQ22A&oe=675AB050	PERSON_PROFILE	Deanna Lynn Sletten - Author	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,605,754	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2605749}'	No	2024-12-07 19:00	active	1971	FREE Exam + X-Rays and 1st Back Pain Relief Treatment	NEW BACK PAIN RELIEF BREAKTHROUGH PROGRAM IN VANCOUVER, WA 👉 𝙈𝙖𝙟𝙤𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙙𝙤 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙍𝙖𝙥𝙞𝙙 𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙍𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙛 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙢. We are Disc Centers of America Vancouver and until now people suffering from herniated disc only had 3 basic options: (1) Live with the pain; (2) Mask the pain with prescription medications; (3) Risk injections or surgery. With the latest FDA-Cleared technology available, we are able to offer a clinically proven 𝗥𝗮𝗽𝗶𝗱 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 that can reduce and potentially ELIMINATE back pain symptoms in our patients. Imagine no more medications or epidural injections… But a fast-acting and long-term solution for: ✅ Sciatica ✅ Numbness ✅ Sharp pain in the back ✅ Muscle weakness ✅ Trouble standing or sitting ✅ Back muscle spasms ✅ Difficulty sleeping from worsening pain ✅ Pain when walking short distances It’s time to eliminate pain, take pressure off nerves, and regain mobility! Disc Centers of America Vancouver is now accepting new patients that are looking for an alternative to medications, shots, or surgery. 👉 Sign Up or Call "(360) 641-7818" to schedule a 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗥𝗮𝗽𝗶𝗱 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗘𝘅𝗮𝗺, 𝗠𝗥𝗜 𝗥𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄, 𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝟭𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗧𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 (𝗶𝗳 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲), to see if we can help you. Experience this new advancement in medical technology today! Serving Vancouver and all surrounding areas. Disc Centers of America Vancouver 14313 NE 20th Ave Suite #101B Vancouver, WA 98686 (360) 641-7818	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	Dr. Troy Dreiling	https://www.facebook.com/61563844250923/	12	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up	fb.me	VIDEO	⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4.8 (100+)	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469393598_1173715157566620_5825116105692150832_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=gUW52IxwnqYQ7kNvgGx_zZ1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsDjnMohHXwx9mZZwq3B_qy&oh=00_AYAIrYPHeorMRCXypJCordH9wVfeteO7kk8Ex4uinzLL9A&oe=675AA564	PERSON_PROFILE	Dr. Troy Dreiling	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,607,428	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2606548}'	No	2024-12-07 19:36	active	1972	Junk Removal: Starting at $69	👋 Hi, I'm Willie, founder of Unique Junk Removal. It's more than just Junk Removal... 🧘‍♀️ Decluttering soothes anxiety & invites tranquility. 📈 A decluttered space eliminates distractions, enhancing productivity. 💪 Organizing & reclaiming your space fosters confidence, elevating self-worth. Let's get rid of that junk together! Proudly serving Jackson, Madison, Clinton, Ridgeland, Brandon & the surrounding areas! Get Your Quote Now!	GET_QUOTE	http://fb.me/	VooltPro Certified Provider	https://www.facebook.com/vooltprocertifiedproviders/	16	1969-12-31 18:00	Get quote	fb.me	VIDEO		http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468486181_1961565181007573_6087504196925570737_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RxlPSNDTV_cQ7kNvgFYCYo2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Au7smSL129P6RTJvIUglsOF&oh=00_AYCK9xKvP1gEDsxEx0VF5lhZP2LcbrokwmOZd7euqPZP1g&oe=675AB649	PERSON_PROFILE	VooltPro Certified Provider	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,605,501	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2605502}'	No	2024-12-07 19:00	active	1971	🔥 ¡Videoclases prácticas!	¡Aprende la MEJOR técnica de masaje íntimo de América con el ÚNICO curso que ofrece video lecciones prácticas con modelos reales! Haz clic en el botón 'Saber más' AHORA, ¡las inscripciones se están cerrando rápidamente!	LEARN_MORE	https://joy-teaches.store/qz-de-high/	Joy Kelly	https://www.facebook.com/61552770085884/	369	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	joy-teaches.store	VIDEO	⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ (9.9/10)	https://joy-teaches.store/qz-de-high/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469667570_2871002833078087_9189030125680670614_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yKzYM3u1S8YQ7kNvgG6av5F&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgpOUFd4EjUHIEfNZRb9OvD&oh=00_AYAPRLVSDlApervK06nc_c0sxG5HN6LSeAjQrY8Wd0N3sQ&oe=675AC5B8	PERSON_PROFILE	Joy Kelly	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,605,026	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2605022}'	No	2024-12-07 18:42	active	1970	$20K Giveaway!	We’re giving away $20,000! Join our FREE livestream, and you could be one of five winners taking home $4,000.	SIGN_UP	https://www.ramseysolutions.com/events/take-contro	EveryDollar	https://www.facebook.com/EveryDollar/	128,707	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign Up	ramseysolutions.com/livestream	DCO	Ramsey's Free Livestream	https://www.ramseysolutions.com/events/take-control-of-your-money?utm_medium=paid_social&utm_source=facebook_everydollar&utm_term=everydollar_bu&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468578954_1109350760832642_8599485696126252091_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=crUTAzwxz_8Q7kNvgH-8CMG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AuFdukC3aJtHowKxug8CLY_&oh=00_AYBckEmnLxADcRnuvEFkkWri9tc5u894Kb4OXfS7DMFiFw&oe=675AC9A5	PERSON_PROFILE	EveryDollar	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,609,569	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife	Amidst her family's financial downfall, she relinquished her cherished violin to play her husband's docile pet, only to be met with his contempt. Following a moment of clarity, she courageously divorced and reignited her music career, achieving great success and evoking remorse from her ex-husband. ===== Joelle Miller pored over Rebecca Lloyd's Twitter feed, studying each video with a laser-sharp attention, was eager to glimpse the face of Rebecca's boyfriend. Rebecca, the girl in the clips, exuded a soft and delicate aura in her plain white dress. She wasn't strikingly beautiful, but there was a wholesome simplicity about her, and her smile was genuinely charming. She discovered that on pivotal days--Christmas Eve, Valentine's Day, and even on Joelle's own birthday--Rebecca was with Adrian Miller, her so-called husband, who had been missing from all significant events for the past three years. Rebecca's joyful narrations and the casual snippets of her life with her boyfriend were more than enough to steep Joelle in gloom. "Do you see this? He saves the juiciest slice of watermelon just for me." "Even when he comes home late, he never forgets to bring me a little something." "And look at this--surprise! He picked up a blessing charm for me from the church." ...... The username on the account was "Countdown To Death." That was the only account Joelle followed. As she was about to reflect on the ominous name, the bathroom door swung open. In the dimly lit room, Adrian appeared, water dripped from his hair. Despite the dim lighting, his striking features were undiminished. Joelle instinctively snapped her phone shut and gazed at him, lost in thought. It had been ages since she last laid eyes on Adrian. Tonight, he was here not by choice. His grandmother, Irene Miller, was ill and desperate for a great-grandchild, which compelled him to return. Otherwise, he might never have come back. Over their three-year marriage, Adrian seldom visited home, spending most of his time at Oak Villas. It was common knowledge that he held no love for Joelle. She felt trapped in a marriage that existed in name only. "I'll give you one chance. Whether you as you wish or not is in the hands of fate," Adrian declared, his voice resonant and deep. What was he implying? Before Joelle could ponder further, Adrian seized her ankle and yanked her towards him, his shadow looming over her petite frame. Joelle's face turned pale as she faced his cruelty, her body tensed with fear. "Adrian! Stop, I don't want it..." Her words were interrupted by her own frantic struggles. Being forced into such a situation with the man she loved filled her with humiliation and terror. Adrian's sneer cut through the air. "You dared to frame me once; you should have seen this day coming. Just endure it." At his harsh words, Joelle's eyes filled with tears, her eyelashes fluttering like wounded butterflies. She looked up at his stern face, her voice trembling. "Things were not what you think..." Her protest was cut. The intense pain overwhelmed her, her resistance fading as despair took hold. She lay there, wishing for oblivion. "You've learned; playing hard to get is far more interesting than just lying there like a dead fish," he rasped, his voice laced with spite. After his shower, he departed without a backward glance, as though he couldn't leave fast enough. Before and after, his ritualistic showers seemed to cleanse him of her, as if she were a stain on his conscience. Joelle struggled to decipher her role in his life. Was she merely a plaything for his pleasure? Or a pawn to fulfill his family's expectations for an heir? The window stood wide open, letting in a biting cold wind. Joelle shivered, drawing the blanket tighter around herself. It wasn't just the chill in the air that made her tremble. Her heart felt as if it had been torn apart, a relentless icy wind whipping through its open wound. The man she had adored for nearly eight years was now a stranger to her. Three years earlier, at a lavish banquet hosted by the Miller family, Joelle had overindulged in wne. When she had woken up, she had found herself sleeping with Adrian. Before she could gather her thoughts, her brother and several members of the Miller family had burst into the room. What was done could not be reversed. Adrian's grandmother had taken the reins and orchestrated their marriage. All this time, Adrian was convinced that Joelle had dgged him to trap him. Joelle had once been baffled by Adrian's profound animosity, even if he believed she had framed him. After all, they had grown up together. But now, she understood. In Adrian's eyes, she was nothing but the nefarious woman who had sabotaged his relationship with Rebecca. She often found herself pondering how perfect Adrian seemed in Rebecca's videos--always so gentle and attentive. It dawned on her that he would probably never show her that same tenderness. Eventually, Joelle couldn't hold back her tears any longer and succumbed to a sobbing breakdown. That night, her sleep was restless and disturbed. In the later hours, she found herself dreaming of their earlier days when she and Adrian hadn't been at odds. Awoken by her troubled sleep, Joelle rose unusually early. After freshening up, she slipped into some casual clothes and made her way downstairs. Leah Jenkins, the long-serving maid, noticed Joelle descending and promptly set the table with breakfast, familiar with all her dietary preferences. Joelle took her time with breakfast, eating slowly and deliberately. "Mrs. Miller, why didn't you convince Mr. Miller to stay last night? It's not often he comes home," Leah commented, her tone reflecting sympathy for Joelle. Leah had been a servant of the Miller family for many years, witnessing the growth of Joelle and Adrian from childhood friends to the enemies they were now. A pang of discomfort briefly crossed Joelle's features before she masked it with a composed smile. "I tried, but he didn't stay," she admitted. Even if she could keep Adrian close physically, his heart was elsewhere. His affections lay at Oak Villas, home to the one he truly cherished. Leah hesitated before speaking again, her tone careful. "Maybe it's because Mr. Miller is so tied up with the company. Running such a massive business takes a lot of his time." After being reassigned to attend to Joelle three years ago, Leah had come to understand the nuances of this marriage better than anyone. Her insight brought with it a heartfelt sympathy for Joelle. Joelle's eyelashes quivered as she nibbled on her toast, her eyes watering slightly from the emotional strain. Yes, Adrian was preoccupied, but he always made time for Rebecca. He frequented Redemption Church to seek a blessing charm for her. Despite his hectic schedule, he never missed spending holidays with her. Just then, Joelle's phone broke the silence. As Leah left the dining room, Joelle picked up her phone and found her best friend, Katherine Nash, calling. "Katherine, I want a divorce," Joelle said in a raspy voice. Chapter 2 On Its Last Legs Joelle made up her mind--she wanted a divorce. There was no point in dragging this out any longer. After a moment of stunned silence, Katherine let out a shrill burst of laughter. "Are you going to get half of Adrian's assets? Oh, my God! Joelle, you're about to become a billionaire!" "No, I can't." Joelle had signed an agreement when she and Adrian married. If they divorced, she would get nothing. "Then why the hell are you divorcing? Just keep being his wife!" Joelle recalled Adrian's roughness the previous night and the humiliation that followed. She had been so naive in the past, believing that her love for Adrian could help her endure any hardship. But now, looking back, she realized how foolish she had been. Did suffering ever make Adrian love her more? The answer was no. A man who genuinely loved her would never let her suffer in the first place. Joelle laughed at herself mockingly and changed the subject. "By the way, remember the favor I asked you last time?" "Yes. I was going to tell you about that. You asked me to keep an eye out for a job, and I've got something for you. You'll be teaching a student to play the violin, though I must say, it'll be a waste of your talent." "That's fine," Joelle replied with a faint smile. "It's not a waste at all. I've been a housewife for three years. Just having someone willing to hire me is enough." "How is it not a waste? You were so close to becoming a part of an international orchestra. If it weren't for getting married..." Katherine trailed off, feeling indignant for her friend. After getting married, Joelle wasn't even allowed to work. These wealthy families clung to such outdated rules. The whole situation was ridiculous. Three years ago, Joelle's violin career had been on the rise. However, the Miller family's strict traditions forbade her from performing in public. On the very first day of her marriage, Adrian's mother had told her, "You don't need to work. Adrian will provide for you. Your job is to give birth to his babies and take care of your husband." Once her call with Katherine ended, Joelle went upstairs and retrieved her long-neglected violin from the study. This violin was a special gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. Tragically, not long after she had received it, her father had suffered a stroke and fallen into a coma. Her older brother had taken on the responsibility of supporting their family. He had let her pursue her dreams of playing the violin without worries. As she reminisced about the past, Joelle drew the bow across the strings. Years ago, an accident had injured her wrist, and she hadn't played since. Now, as she played, sharp pain shot through her wrist, but she persisted. She relied on muscle memory to play a short piece. In the end, she gave a bitter laugh. It sounded terrible. Just then, she heard Leah's voice at the door, filled with surprise and delight. "Sir, you're back!" Leah was secretly relieved to see Adrian. His returning home must mean he still cared for Joelle. Perhaps if Joelle said something kind, their relationship might improve. Meanwhile, Joelle was surprised. Adrian rarely came home during the day. She had just set down her violin when the door swung open. Adrian stood in the doorway, his tall frame imposing. With furrowed brows, his eyes swept over her. He remembered that Joelle had learned to play the violin as a child and had been praised for her talent by a renowned teacher. But for some reason, she had stopped playing. Having listened from outside just now, he found her playing mediocre. How could anyone have praised her talent? Joelle glanced at him and lowered her head to place the violin back in its case. Then, in a low voice, she asked, "What brings you here? Is there anything you need?" "I came to pick up something and remind you that we need to visit Grandma tomorrow," Adrian replied in a cold tone. Visiting his grandmother at least once a month was a family rule. Tomorrow was the day. If not for this obligation, Adrian wouldn't have returned at all. If he and Joelle didn't show up together, Irene would be upset. Joelle smiled bitterly. She remembered the Miller family rules better than Adrian and always adhered to them. Even Irene, stringent as ever, couldn't find fault with her. "I haven't forgotten. I'm relieved to know you haven't either," Joelle responded. Her tone carried a hint of accusation, making Adrian sneer. For a moment, a simmering anger brewed within him. Without another word, he headed straight to the walk-in closet to look for something. Even though he rarely came home, Joelle still maintained his wardrobe meticulously--clothes washed, ironed, and neatly arranged. Joelle felt her role was reduced to performing household chores, something Leah could also manage. Her only advantage, perhaps, was that she was younger and prettier than Leah. Her eyes followed Adrian's movements. His ring finger was bare--the wedding ring nowhere to be seen. A sharp pang of pain shot through her heart. "Adrian, let's get a divorce," Joelle suddenly said, her voice as soft as a breeze. Saying those words drained all her strength, yet she felt a strange relief wash over her. Adrian turned around and stared at her with a mocking smile. "Think carefully before you speak. The Watson family is now on its last legs. Without my support, do you plan to sleep on the streets with your brother after the divorce?" Since the Watson family's downfall, Joelle had gone from being cherished to ridiculed. The Miller family despised her and looked down on her as if she and her brother were leeches they couldn't shake off. Even her intimate moments with Adrian made her feel degraded. Joelle bit her lip and straightened up. "I've already rented a place. Even if I ended up sleeping on the streets, that would be on me." All she wanted was for Adrian to respect her, but three years of captivity had worn down her pride and dignity. "And where did you get the money to rent a place? If you wanted to be independent so badly, you shouldn't have spent a single penny from the Miller family." Adrian, with his back to Joelle, found the missing wedding ring in a gap and held it in his palm. Joelle didn't notice. His words left her breathless. Yes, she had used her meager savings to rent the place. But since she was married to Adrian, wasn't what was hers also his? Besides, the financial support Adrian had given the Watson family over the years amounted to a significant sum. Joelle had always despised the idea of owing Adrian anything, yet her debt to him was the deepest. If they divorced, he would likely sever all financial support to the Watson family. Was he suggesting she would have to exit the marriage empty-handed? As Adrian turned to leave, Joelle called out to him, her dignity barely intact. "I'm legally entitled to this marriage and have a rightful claim to what's supposed to be mine. But don't worry, I won't ask for much--just enough to help Watson Group get through this crisis." Adrian froze, his features sharpening. His lips formed a thin line, and his jaw clenched. These were clear signs of his brewing anger. Even though Joelle had mentally braced herself, she couldn't withstand the intensity of his rage. Each moment under his stern gaze intensified her anxiety. Just then, his phone rang. Adrian pulled it from his pocket and began to walk away. "Adrian!" Chapter 3 I Will Always Hold My Head High Adrian's frustration crackled in the air like static. "If your brother needs money, tell him to march straight to Miller Group." "That's not what this is about!" Joelle retorted. He misunderstood her completely. Joelle hurried after him, her heart pounding with urgency. "Adrian, I want a divorce!" At those words, Adrian stopped going upstairs and turned his head; the phone in his hand fell silent too. At six feet three inches, Adrian towered over Joelle. His gaze was cold, and when he spoke, his voice dripped with mockery. "Joelle, can't you come up with a better game than this endless push-and-pull? If you're serious about a divorce, why don't you tell Grandma yourself? If not, don't ever let me hear that word from you again!" The door slammed shut behind him, the finality of it echoing. Joelle leaned against the wall, her legs giving out beneath her until she slid to the floor. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Their marriage had been crafted by Irene. Adrian had been forced into it, and Joelle knew it all too well. If she truly wanted a divorce, she knew talking to Irene would be the most effective route. But a small, foolish part of her had clung to the hope that she and Adrian were a real couple. That was why she had brought it up with him first--she saw him as her husband. But she had forgotten one crucial detail: Adrian had never been willing to marry her. From the start, his reluctance had been clear, though she had tried to overlook it. His last words to her weren't just dismissive--they were a command. If she was serious, she should confront Irene herself. Joelle took a shower, dressed in fresh clothes, and steeled herself to visit Irene. Irene was strict, authoritative, and feared by the entire family. She ruled with an iron fist, and disobedience was not tolerated. But Joelle shared a unique bond with her. Part of the reason Joelle had agreed to marry Adrian was to fulfill Irene's expectations. She had wanted to care for Adrian, build a home, and ensure that Irene could pass away without regret. But now, she couldn't hold on any longer. Watching Adrian lavish attention on another woman filled Joelle with a wave of bitterness that threatened to consume her. She knew Adrian didn't love her. He never had, and he never would! Just as she was about to leave, her phone rang. It was her brother, Shawn Watson. "Shawn? What's wrong?" "Mrs. Miller!" It was Shawn's assistant, and his voice was panicked--something Joelle had never heard before. Her blood ran cold, and she gripped the phone tighter as she stood at the bottom of the staircase. "Where's Shawn? What happened to him?" "Last night, Mr. Watson attended a business meeting where he was pressured to drink heavily. He was supposed to come home, but Erick Lloyd insisted on taking him to a hot spring." Joelle froze, fury surging through her veins. "Did Erick not realize that could kill him?" "Erick is a loose cannon! He's been throwing his weight around ever since his father and brother were chauffeurs for the Miller family. Mrs. Miller, you need to come quickly! Mr. Watson is still in surgery, and the doctors have issued two critical condition notices. I couldn't hold out any longer before calling you!" His voice cracked as he neared the brink of tears. Joelle knew he wouldn't have reached out unless the situation was truly desperate. Shawn had always protected her from bad news, no matter how grim the circumstances. If the assistant was this shaken, Shawn's life must be teetering on the edge. Joelle felt as if the world was closing in around her, her voice strangled in her throat. She missed the last step and tumbled hard, her ankle twisting sharply. The searing pain snapped her back to reality, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. "Oh no! Mrs. Miller, how could you not be watching your steps?" Leah rushed over and helped Joelle to her feet. Joelle clutched Leah's arm, her vision blurred by tears. She tried to speak, but the words came out choked and broken between sobs. "My brother... I have to see him at the hospital!" Sensing the urgency in her voice, Leah didn't hesitate. "Alright, don't worry. I'll get the driver to take you right away!" Leah was a seasoned and dependable maid who had served the Miller family for years. Within five minutes, the car was parked before the villa. As Joelle was about to step into the car, she turned to Leah. "Please, don't tell Irene about this. I don't want to worry her." Leah's heart softened at Joelle's words. Even in her pale, tear-streaked state, Joelle was thinking of Irene's well-being. What a rare and remarkable girl she was! "Don't worry, Mrs. Miller. I know what to do. Go see your brother." When Joelle arrived at the hospital, Shawn had just been wheeled out of surgery. Seeing Shawn hooked up to tubes and wires, the assistant nearly crumpled to the floor. As Joelle approached, she found him kneeling against the wall, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. She held back the urge to scold him for not protecting Shawn better. There would be time for that later. Once Shawn's condition stabilized, Joelle pulled the assistant aside. "Tell me everything--how did this happen?" The assistant hesitated, his face drawn with worry. "Mrs. Miller, Mr. Watson specifically instructed us not to involve you in business matters." "This is a matter of life and death. Do you still think keeping me in the dark is an option?" Joelle's patience snapped, and she turned to walk away. "Mrs. Miller, it's no use." The assistant's voice was heavy with despair. "You know that ever since your father passed, Watson Group has rested entirely on Mr. Watson's shoulders. He's been fighting to uphold the family's dignity so that your life in the Miller family would be easier." For three years, Shawn had fought valiantly to keep the family afloat. However, without Adrian's financial backing, their efforts would have crumbled long ago. Shawn's deepest wish was for Joelle to live comfortably, but despite his relentless efforts, he could never win her the respect she deserved from her husband. No matter how much Shawn sacrificed, Joelle would remain undervalued in the Miller family. Joelle's anger simmered, yet she knew she couldn't change her reality. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Did you mention my relationship with Adrian?" She hoped that aligning herself with the Miller family could help Shawn stand his ground. "Mr. Watson refuses to bring it up. He's afraid it will only make things harder for you." Joelle let out a bitter laugh. From the beginning, she had never been able to stand on equal footing with Adrian. No wonder he despised her--she could barely tolerate herself. Just an hour ago, she had resolved to ask for a divorce. Now, she found herself clinging to Adrian's name, desperate to make life easier for Shawn. "Tell Shawn I'm Adrian Miller's wife, the one Irene handpicked. As long as I'm Mrs. Miller, I will hold my head high in the Miller family!" Footsteps echoed behind her. Joelle turned and locked eyes with Adrian's cold gaze. Beside him stood a frail-looking girl with wide, innocent eyes, clinging to Adrian openly. Adrian's glance at Joelle was filled with cold disdain, as if even acknowledging her presence was an effort. This cunning woman had dgged him into marriage. With such deceitful tactics, how could she easily walk away from this union? The same marriage served as a lifeline for her struggling family. He had given Watson Group a hundred million each year. Joelle would be a fool to risk losing that by actually divorcing him. Chapter 4 She Finally Figured It Out Joelle had long since grown numb to Adrian's cold indifference. She quietly observed their intertwined arms, her thoughts drifting to the sweet moments captured in Rebecca's videos that had made many envious. What a perfect couple they made! The thought struck Joelle like a kife, and suddenly, she felt like the real third wheel. "Joelle, please don't get things wrong!" Rebecca's voice was laced with urgency as she quickly withdrew her hand from Adrian's arm. "I'm not well and can't walk far. Adie was just being kind enough to support me." Joelle managed a faint smile. "What brings you to the hospital?" she asked Adrian, deliberately ignoring Rebecca's explanation. If there was one thing Joelle had learned, it was that the best revenge against the other woman was to act as if she didn't exist. "It's about Erick," Rebecca interjected, her hands clasped in front of her like a repentant child. "I also came to say sorry to you, Joelle. Sorry about Erick being so careless and causing your brother to end up in the hospital." Joelle retorted, "Did I hear careless? Your brother nearly killed mine, and you think an apology is enough to make it right?" Rebecca flinched, instinctively clutching Adrian's sleeve for support. Adrian's voice was as cold as winter when he finally spoke. "That's enough, Joelle. It wasn't intentional." Then he turned to Rebecca, and his tone softened. "Let's go. Aren't you here to see Erick?" A wave of icy realization washed over Joelle. She had hoped naively that Adrian was here to check on Shawn. But no, he was just here for Rebecca, to see Erick. Even if he did stop by to see Shawn, it would only be out of obligation, nothing more. She knew better than to expect Adrian to defend her. "Rebecca, I won't forget what Erick did!" Joelle said. Rebecca's legs buckled, and she collapsed against Adrian's chest. He caught her just in time, holding her close. "Joelle, Erick didn't mean any harm. He's in the hospital too!" "Is he dead? If not, he has to pay for what he's done!" Joelle rarely lashed out, but today was different. Shawn was basically the only family she had left. Her father, incapacitated by a stroke, lay in a vegetative state with little or no hope of recovering, and her mother had perished in a car accident. Since she was eighteen, it had been just her and Shawn, facing the world together. During their darkest hours, Shawn had carried the burden alone, allowing Joelle to pursue her passion for the violin. Now, the thought of losing him too was unbearable. She wished nothing more than for Erick to die. "Joelle, how can you say that?" Rebecca sobbed, her voice trembling with disbelief. Adrian's patience snapped, and his eyes turned cold as they locked onto Joelle. "What do you want?" "Shawn received two critical condition notices. How about Erick?" Rebecca gasped, clinging to Adrian as if he were the only thing keeping her from collapsing, her fragile body trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Joelle, please! I only have one brother left. Show mercy, please!" She fainted before Joelle could respond, leaving no room for further argument. Adrian scooped Rebecca up, his eyes filled with cold reproach as he looked at Joelle one last time. He walked away, leaving Joelle standing there, rooted to the spot, unable to move or even think for what felt like an eternity. Before their marriage, she had been the cherished girl, but afterward, she had reduced herself to the role of Adrian's servant. Looking back, she realized how naive she had been. She used to be such a proud person, but now she endures all kinds of grievances just to please her husband. How pathetic! It's been three years, it's time to divorce and start a new life... ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &13&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60520322-fb_contact-e	Hello Read	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	1,001	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60520322-fb_contact-ena220_2-0918-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1435595577085911&rawadid=120214123828380597	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468756755_1099688215495298_2872251058743337884_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n9cqtKV4pFYQ7kNvgEVSx-r&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ASXr37pSRERfxA8WqW7klci&oh=00_AYDVfBdVD9qtLZr3k7AD2EdwwCHaH09O1IzhjFtDm4Sy5w&oe=675ADF27	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello Read	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,604,793	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2603771}'	Yes	2024-12-07 18:42	active	1970		❄️Day 2 of our Holiday Gift Guide Giveaway is here!❄️ Win gifts for the person who is community-conscious and make their holidays even brighter with a soy candle from @ellejamesdecor and handmade snowflake ornament from @nancygongartist. To enter, be sure to follow @mandt_spotlightshop and tell us what you’re shopping for this holiday season. 🛍️ The lucky winner will be revealed on December 9. Full official rules can be found at the link in our bio. But don’t wait to start shopping! Check out the Spotlight Shop Small & Thoughtful Gift Guide for amazing gift ideas also at the link in bio! 🎁 #giveaway #holidayseason #spotlightshop	LEARN_MORE	https://www.mtb.com/spotlightshop	mandt_spotlightshop	https://www.facebook.com/100069474978328/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.mtb.com	VIDEO		https://www.mtb.com/spotlightshop	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468999659_1092257172602506_8704855932182909176_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qivYDCklsGoQ7kNvgEkUrg_&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A2LgidtrS2TmOMsiMFgkIIJ&oh=00_AYBwzVx4jzz0-6znFZe3--JQd-D6LWapmHUJiY9GgC8_5g&oe=675AB4C7	PERSON_PROFILE	mandt_spotlightshop	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,605,209	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2605801}'	Yes	2024-12-07 19:00	active	1971	The Vampire And His Blood Wife👉👉👉	The Vampire And His Blood Wife ONLY on Drama Time.🎬 Don't miss out! Watch the series you've been wanting to see. No regrets, just pure entertainment! #Must SeeTV #No Regrets #Watch Now	WATCH_MORE		Romantic Love	https://www.facebook.com/61557838064349/	345	1969-12-31 18:00	Watch More		DCO			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460844654_1586091338786756_7335652434014015276_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=zTljQ1phuWgQ7kNvgFjEKTA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AgU1E55rAo5Dn-JIP4nNrM3&oh=00_AYDi9oKmt7Gd00nY3doySZKVBIUr8ov_9I2QF5nrskBdfA&oe=675ACBFA	PERSON_PROFILE	Romantic Love	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,607,963	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-07 19:36	active	1972	The Picklr Keystone Crossing Grand Opening	Ready, set, dink. The Picklr Keystone Crossing is officially opening on Saturday, December 21st @ 12:00 pm ET 🎉 We'll have free open play (no registration required), beginner demos, instructor exhibitions, exclusive raffle prizes, facility tours, and more. Grab your friends, family, and pickleball partners and come join us for the celebration from 12–5 pm 🙌	EVENT_RSVP	https://www.facebook.com/events/2707064562814128/	The Picklr Indianapolis - Keystone Crossing	https://www.facebook.com/thepicklr.keystonecrossing/	159	1969-12-31 18:00	INTERESTED	The Picklr Keystone Crossing Grand Opening	EVENT	Ready, set, dink. The Picklr Keystone Crossing is officially opening on Saturday, December 21st @ 12:00 pm ET 🎉 We'll have free open play (no registration required), beginner demos, instructor exhibitions, exclusive raffle prizes, facility tours, and more. Grab your friends, family, and pickleball partners and come join us for the celebration from 12–5 pm 🙌	https://www.facebook.com/events/2707064562814128/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469399592_3026882640798484_6883097517758707322_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cP8rq3Q5QuAQ7kNvgH5rf3j&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ABDbFvE15hVhr8uW3TETTot&oh=00_AYBImu9rBPucPSNbX4dffJl2YWZuCf0cnU8spSj4iDXqnQ&oe=675AE46A	PERSON_PROFILE	The Picklr Indianapolis - Keystone Crossing	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,610,068	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2609622}'	Yes	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	Christmas Minis Katy, TX	Cube Card Mini Sessions! 🎄🎅🏼 📸 December 7th / 8th / 14th These mini sessions are taking place in Richmond, TX from 9:00am to 6:00pm Send us a msg and we'll give you the details!	MESSAGE_PAGE		Azulimon Photography	https://www.facebook.com/Azulimonphoto/	3,540	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469476312_1658315084749083_2883378956700208723_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Doz5MmpvqQUQ7kNvgHHMuTv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ae8njSKvo4QOrfawQEHGsT-&oh=00_AYAruxrevTiUE2ChYGdgD_iW52ndd4DErwaDKLTBjS9ElQ&oe=675AC63A	PERSON_PROFILE	Azulimon Photography	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,609,348	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2608491}'	Yes	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	❤️😍What happens next👉	"Xavier, are you free tonight? I have something to tell you." I mustered up the courage to text my husband, and my hands were a little wet holding the phone. Ten minutes... Half an hour... One hour... There was no reply from the other side. Just like his attitude towards me over the years, indifferent and aloof. I smiled bitterly and threw the phone on the sofa. Then I made dinner as usual and lay quietly on the sofa in the living room waiting for him. I thought he would not come back today. But at twelve o'clock in the early morning, I heard movement at the door. I immediately got up and walked forward, taking his coat and briefcase skillfully . A series of actions, just like an ordinary couple. "Don't text me casually in the future." Xavier's cold voice broke the calm of this moment. My hand hanging my coat trembled, and I murmured, "Okay, I won't do that again." He didn't hear the hidden meaning in my words, and asked me impatiently, "Don't you have something to tell me? What is it?" Even though I was already discouraged, I couldn't help but care about him. I pushed him to the dining table, "Don't worry, drink some stomach-warming soup first." Seeing him sit down steadily and take a sip of the soup, I finally felt relieved and said, "Let's get a divorce." My voice was calm, as calm as if I was talking about today's weather. His deep pupils shrink, "What did you say?" I knew he couldn't believe that I, who had loved him so humbly for so many years, was willing to divorce him. I stared at him straight, "I said let's get a divorce. I know your first love is back, and I decided to let go." "What tricks are you trying to play, Yvette Snyder? Do you want a child or money?" He asked coldly. On my wedding day, my mother and brother took away the large amount of dowry that Xavier paid, violating the terms of mutual benefit between both families. In the past few years, they often forced him to give me a child. I have never had a good image in his heart. "I don't want anything. I just want a divorce from you." I shook my head. Unexpectedly, the usually calm man angrily overturned the table in front of him. With red eyes, he grabbed my wrist fiercely and threw me on the sofa, and his head approached my neck. . .	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	865	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO		https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&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/t39.35426-6/457270151_954156726399654_8659937070073615280_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p1aEFb5GgoIQ7kNvgH3JzNL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Ac1lKFeGW_V83KBgvruKzOx&oh=00_AYD9D3w2vd4rL78PYNQntzTHjxF6OxolvvYI6F_BjCzVJQ&oe=675AC0A8	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,608,124	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2608072}'	No	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	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/	865	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/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KTHoyBZcO18Q7kNvgHWViau&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZCC4-pfAG_cPHCkG8_R_pR&oh=00_AYDu1mI27zGuIMgbjRrl9bkTR7ZEEaYiz9GKqaoYeXbDnA&oe=675AB22E	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,610,225	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2609622}'	No	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973		HOY EN LA TARDE!🔥 LA PATRONA VS LA POLLIZA🎶 No te pierdas una noche inolvidable con buena música, bebidas y mucho más aquí en Los 3 Ríos🦐🍻 921 S Havana St Aurora, CO 80012📍	MESSAGE_PAGE		Mariscos Los 3 Rios	https://www.facebook.com/100093483349393/	1,746	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469602120_2401440960026441_8136454845881128944_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3acQfN2f1BUQ7kNvgHDWUGp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdnjyIw7CFtnUHFtb8H-El-&oh=00_AYA4RMMwV2YEcucC9oUW72akkWgCrJynKkBWE6HY5d7x1w&oe=675AC363	PERSON_PROFILE	Mariscos Los 3 Rios	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,608,132	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2608863}'	No	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kitqC4N2Q24Q7kNvgGzS1Yk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AZCC4-pfAG_cPHCkG8_R_pR&oh=00_AYC_A45OIFAR4oi8CvgKLAY6anlLMjbe58BPhTJl1OCbrA&oe=675AB491	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,610,482	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2609622}'	No	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973		Perilous Times and Perilous Men 1 But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: 2 For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, 3 unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, 4 traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5 having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away! 6 For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, 7 always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth. 8 Now as Jannes and Jambres resisted Moses, so do these also resist the truth: men of corrupt minds, disapproved concerning the faith; 9 but they will progress no further, for their folly will be manifest to all, as theirs also was. 2 Timothy 3:1-9 (NKJV) #salvationthroughfaith #whichisinChristJesusourLord #JesusChristisGod			Gail Concepcion Bamforth	https://www.facebook.com/gail.concepcion.5/	658	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469487219_9258108600889056_7899771059511203568_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RSKHixn1Yz4Q7kNvgGbzT4T&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A1DCVw5aZ5L_YCoWFH9vLjC&oh=00_AYD3EmE_rR58tU6KeRKGrjPqUjXVLxKN-MdIWog5QjRkmg&oe=675AE690	PERSON_PROFILE	Gail Concepcion Bamforth	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,610,557	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-07 20:42	active	1973	28-day calisthenics workout challenge👉	Reach muscle goals💪 Stick to this simple plan to succeed: 1. Take a 1-minute quiz 📊 2. Get a personalized workout and meal plan based on weight, height, age, daily activity and fitness conditions 📲 3. Follow the program 😎	LEARN_MORE	https://betterme-calisthenics.com/en/first-page-ge	BetterMen: Workout Planner	https://www.facebook.com/100063709074454/	540,295	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	betterme-calisthenics.com	VIDEO		https://betterme-calisthenics.com/en/first-page-generated?flow=1500&utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=cpm&utm_campaign=AG_Calisthenics_Men_Flow1500_8_Dec_Set11_Video_Endscreen_test_BAU_US_Wide_M_LC_Auto_762874888277234%2F230&utm_content=4_2024-12-02_daryna_AGTEST7_H-FellasMondayNov_S-FianceDay20_V-ExerciseVideo_C-NikolaosT_K-Dec9_CT-17491_Ver-1_story_fb.mp4	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469513909_1204358140664560_4789888479145652362_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=I9WT5KN1Ln4Q7kNvgGPcb3O&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AVq1-PY84ikK956Imt4JO6q&oh=00_AYAkwKAhM2VXc5rNmCCAS_BVzcxrno7cCj8C0jFym8xnjA&oe=675ADDEC	PERSON_PROFILE	BetterMen: Workout Planner	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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