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2,613,882	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976	Read next chapter	She and her stepsister fell in love with the same man, but when he knelt down to beg her to save her stepsister, she felt desperate. She demanded to become his wife to save her stepsister. Two years later, when she got the divorce agreement as scheduled, she realized that she had ended up losing everything. ===== Emma Cooper boarded her flight home after three grueling months of filming. Today was also the final day of Emma's contractual marriage. The four-hour journey felt endless, but at last, the plane touched down. Once she retrieved her suitcase, she made her way toward the exit, expecting a company car. But as soon as the doors slid open, she spotted someone familiar--Edwin Reid, the Jenner family's long-time driver. He stood by a sleek black Rolls-Royce, his posture rigid and respectful, waiting. Dragging her suitcase, she approached. Edwin immediately took over, wordlessly opening the car door for her. Inside, a man sat in silence. His presence was cold yet commanding, encased in a perfectly tailored black suit. His sharply chiseled face devoid of any expression, he didn't look up--not even a glance her way. It was Ricky Jenner, her husband of two years. His unexpected appearance caught her off guard, though she quickly remembered why he was here. Their arrangement was ending today. Of course, he would show up. Emma slid into the car, maintaining a careful distance, the space between them as silent and tense as ever. For two years, Ricky had made it clear--he didn't want her close. Tonight was the first time they had been seated so near, and the closeness felt foreign. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between them, familiar but distant, like everything about him. Edwin quietly loaded her suitcase into the trunk and slid back behind the wheel. As the car pulled away from the airport, the silence inside grew suffocating. Ricky's expression remained as cold and distant as ever, his presence casting a shadow over the space. Emma's heart raced, each breath coming in shallow, uneasy waves. Twenty minutes later, the Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of the Jenner family's grand estate. Before Emma could collect her thoughts, the butler rushed out, swiftly opening the door. Ricky stepped out first, his long strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance in her direction. "Let's go to the study," he muttered, his tone clipped, not even bothering to slow his pace. Emma's nerves had been on edge the entire ride. She knew what was coming. The moment she entered the study, she saw Ricky pull out a stack of papers from the desk drawer, tossing them in front of her. "Let's get a divorce," he said. Emma's heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she remained composed. She had loved Ricky for ten years, and wearing the title of Mrs. Jenner had never brought her closer to his heart. His body, his soul--none of him had ever belonged to her. "Nicola is old enough to marry now, isn't she?" Emma said, her voice trembling despite her best effort to keep it steady. Ricky's brow twitched slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his sharp features. He didn't bother responding to her comment. Instead, he immediately extended the pen toward her, a silent demand. Emma forced a smile, but it felt like a crack in her mask. Without her usual makeup, her lips looked pale, and her face seemed drained of life. The exhaustion was undeniable. "Just sign it," Ricky said, emotionless and firm. She accepted the pen and, without sparing a glance at the contents of the contract, flipped to the last page and signed her name. The act felt final, yet hollow. As she placed the pen down, Emma glanced up at Ricky. His eyes, still striking, stared back at her with an icy detachment that sent a shiver through her. It was as if he was looking at a stranger, not his wife. "It's getting late. I'll move out tomorrow, if that's alright?" Emma asked, her voice fragile, her smile tense as she searched Ricky's face for even a shred of warmth. But Ricky's response came swift and sharp, dashing any hope. "Edwin will take you to a hotel." Was he really sending her away this very moment? Not even allowing her the courtesy of one last night under this roof? Her forced smile faltered, then vanished altogether. The silence between them stretched, heavy. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment before she turned away, her heart hardening with each step as she left the room. In her bedroom, Emma took the suitcase she hadn't even had the chance to unpack. When she dragged her suitcase downstairs, the maids rushed to help, but she waved them off, her smile weary. "Thank you, but I can handle it." They exchanged helpless glances, standing quietly in a line as they watched her approach the door. In the two years she had spent in this house, Emma had grown to care for the people here. Everyone, except Ricky, had shown her warmth. A pang of sorrow hit her, but after enduring two years of emotional isolation, she no longer had the strength to fight. It was over. Time to move on, and finally, let go. Despite the searing pain ripping through her chest, Emma remained dry-eyed. She had learned how to hide her emotions well. As she slid into the backseat of the car, she forced herself to appear composed. Edwin drove her through the city streets and dropped her off at a five-star hotel. Without a word, he left. Inside, Emma checked in and powered on her phone, which had been off for hours. There was a missed call from her father, Colby Cooper. She inhaled deeply, bracing herself as she dialed his number. Colby picked up almost immediately. "Emma, Nicola's condition has worsened," he said, his voice rough, weighed down with exhaustion and worry. Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What? When did this happen?" "About a week ago." "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked. "You were busy filming. I didn't want to burden you," Colby explained. Emma paused, the silence between them heavy. Her mind flashed back to two years ago, when she had donated her bone marrow to save Nicola Cooper. The realization hit her--she knew exactly why her father was calling. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steady but resigned. "No, there's nothing you need to do. Ricky's already taken care of everything--he's brought in top doctors, and the hospital found a bone marrow match for Nicola from the registry. You just need to visit when you can," Colby said. Emma stayed silent, her chest tightening. Colby, sensing her hesitation, gave her Nicola's room number and urged her to come soon, mentioning how much Nicola missed her. A sharp pain gripped her heart. She managed a weak "okay" before quickly ending the call, unable to hear more. That night felt endless. She tossed and turned on the unfamiliar hotel bed, her mind racing. By 2 a.m., she gave in, ordering a bottle of red wne. She drank most of it before finally drifting off into a fitful sleep. The next morning, close to noon, Emma was jolted awake by her phone ringing. Her agent's voice was quick and urgent on the other end. She pitched the idea of her joining a popular rural reality show--one that guaranteed fame for all who participated. "I'm not interested. I need a break," she replied, her voice groggy with exhaustion. Her agent snapped, clearly frustrated, "A break? Do you think you can take a break whenever you feel like it? Look, you've been in this industry for three years. You've turned down intimate scenes, refused reality shows and avoided any publicity stunts with male celebrities. The company has bent over backward to accommodate you! But what now?" Her voice grew sharper. "Three years in, and you still lack ambition. Keep this up, and your career will be done." "Then let it be done." "Emma, you..." Her agent's voice was cut off as Emma ended the call without hesitation. The frustration simmered inside her, but she didn't dwell on it. She headed straight to the bathroom, ignoring the incessant buzzing of her phone. After a long shower, feeling slightly more clear-headed, she decided to reach out to Jenifer Howard, a close friend she hadn't seen for a while. Emma asked if she could stay at Jenifer's place for a few days. Jenifer was thrilled and agreed, coming over to pick her up almost immediately. Once settled at Jenifer's, Emma unpacked her things and shared a quiet meal with her friend. That afternoon, she made her way to Ecatin General Hospital. Standing outside Nicola's room, Emma watched through the glass as the caregiver tried feeding her sister. Nicola, frail and pale, managed only a few bites before she began to retch. Emma's chest tightened with a sorrow she couldn't fully articulate. Nicola was her half-sister, five years younger and barely twenty now. They had been inseparable as children; Nicola had always looked up to her, following her everywhere. But everything changed when they both fell in love with Ricky. Two years ago, when Nicola was first diagnosed with leukemia, Ricky had been beside himself with worry. That was when the truth hit Emma--Ricky didn't love her. His heart belonged to Nicola. Chapter 2 You Don't Deserve To Be Around Nicola Back then, Emma's blod test results had come back clear--there were no complications, no signs of rejection. She could save Nicola. In truth, Emma wouldn't have hesitated to donate her bone marrow to a stranger, let alone her own sister. But before she could even voice her decision, Ricky had already thought of her as cold and indifferent, assuming she wouldn't step up to save Nicola. He was so desperate that he even knelt before her, pleading for her help--a sight that shattered Emma's heart. Never in her life had she seen Ricky humble himself for anyone like that. She had known Ricky since they were kids. From elementary school to high school, they had been inseparable. Childhood sweethearts, as some might have called them. Ricky used to get into fights with other boys just to defend her, and he would stay up late into the night to help her prepare for exams. She had believed, naively, that after all those years of being by his side, she would eventually earn his love. But she was wrong. Feelings, she had come to understand, were never won by logic or time. Emma was never as good at acting cute or knowing exactly how to please Ricky as Nicola. While he cared for both of them, the way he doted on Nicola was always more tender, more genuine. He must have loved her deeply. The thought pierced Emma's heart, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. What hurt most wasn't just Ricky's love for Nicola but the fact that he had assumed she was heartless enough to let her sister die. That judgment, so harsh and wrong, had infuriated her. In a moment of blind anger, she had demanded that Ricky marry her. She wanted to be his wife. Even though the marriage would only last two year, she had believed--foolishly--that it would be enough time for Ricky to fall in love with her. But reality, sharp and unforgiving, had torn that hope apart. She had lost. Miserably. "You still have the nerve to show your face here?" A biting voice yanked Emma out of her thoughts. Emma quickly wiped away her tears and turned to see Verena Cooper standing behind her, her expression instantly turning cold. Verena, her stepmother, was forty but looked a decade younger. With her perfectly styled hair and chic designer clothes, she exuded elegance and control. When Emma was still mourning the loss of her mother, Verena, who had been the family's servant, got pregnant. The father of the baby was Colby. "Spare me the crocodile tears!" Verena sneered, brushing past Emma as she entered the hospital room. Emma swallowed her frustration and followed behind, forcing herself to remain composed. When Nicola saw her, a faint light flickered in her otherwise tired eyes. "Emma," she said softly, a trace of warmth in her voice. Emma smiled, walking over to gently take Nicola's hand. "I heard you've been missing me." Nicola nodded, her expression gentle. "I haven't seen you for three months. I really missed you." Emma's heart twisted painfully. Nicola, with her innocence and kindness, made everything so much more difficult. How could her own sister, the one she'd loved and cared for, be the one standing between her and the man she longed for? When Nicola had fallen ill, Emma had crossed a line she could never uncross--using that tragedy to secure her place as Mrs. Jenner. She had expected Nicola to resent her for it, maybe even despise her. In her mind, their meetings would be cold, filled with resentment and distance. But Nicola still cared about her as though nothing had changed. And that was the hardest part of all. Every time Emma looked at her sister, the guilt became unbearable. "I'm taking a break right now, so I've got plenty of time to spend with you," Emma said, her eyes still red from emotion, but she forced a smile. Nicola's face lit up. "That's amazing! I want you to visit me every day until I'm discharged, okay?" "Of course, I'll be here every day," Emma replied warmly. From the side, Verena rolled her eyes, glaring at Emma with open contempt. She held her tongue for Nicola's sake, but every time she looked at Emma, her anger flared. She couldn't forget how Nicola had become a shell of herself when Ricky married Emma. Fighting her bitterness, Verena coaxed Nicola to sleep. Once Nicola was asleep, she turned to Emma, her voice cold. "Ricky's coming soon to see Nicola. If you don't want an uncomfortable scene, you'd better go." Emma stood silently, taking in her words. After one last glance at Nicola, now peacefully asleep, she turned and headed for the door. Just as she reached the doorway, Verena's voice cut through the air once more. "Don't bother coming back. After everything you've done to her, you don't deserve to be around Nicola." Emma didn't say a word. She walked out, her steps heavy with the weight of a truth she'd long grown accustomed to carrying. Emma quietly closed the door behind her and collapsed onto a bench in the corridor. She buried her face in her hands as tears flowed uncontrollably, her body shaking with silent sobs. Jenifer had been waiting outside in the car for far too long. Concerned, she decided to head into the hospital to check on Emma. When she entered the corridor and saw Emma hunched over on the bench, looking utterly defeated, Jenifer was about to rush over when she noticed Ricky stepping out of the elevator. He paused when he spotted Emma, but after a brief pause, he walked toward her. Emma had been following Ricky everywhere since childhood; she knew the sound of his footsteps anywhere. Hearing that familiar rhythm, she quickly wiped her face and tried to compose herself, though the effort felt futile. "Are you here to see Nicola?" she asked, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying, with streaks of smudged makeup on her face. She looked fragile, a shadow of her usual self. Ricky's response was indifferent. "You've already visited her?" "Yes," Emma whispered. For a moment, something in her appearance must have stirred a hint of sympathy, because Ricky, in an unusual display of kindness, added softly, "Don't worry. Nicola will be undergoing a bone marrow transplant soon. She'll get better soon enough." "I know." With just those words, Ricky simply turned to push open the door to Nicola's room. But before he could step inside, Emma couldn't help but call after him, "Please, take good care of her." If she couldn't have him, then maybe it was time to let go, to give him back to Nicola--the one he truly loved. Ricky paused, his hand on the door. Without turning to face her, he replied in a voice laced with restrained anger, "I don't need you to remind me. I'll take care of her." His words were sharp, each syllable weighted with frustration. Emma flinched. She had already signed the divorce papers, freeing him from their hollow marriage, giving him the chance to return to Nicola. This was what he had always wanted, wasn't it? So why did he still seem so furious with her? Was he really that eager to be rid of her? Did he hate her that much? Ricky disappeared into the room, but Emma remained frozen on the bench, her eyes locked on the closed door. She felt hollow, lost in the emptiness of it all. Jenifer, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't bear it any longer. She rushed over, gently pulling Emma to her feet and dragging her away from the hospital ward. In the days that followed, Emma continued visiting the hospital, but she no longer went inside Nicola's room. She only stood by the door, looking through the glass to catch a glimpse of her sister. Sometimes she would see Ricky taking Nicola for walks outside, their closeness painfully clear. From afar, she would watch, a quiet spectator to the life she had no part in. Ricky's coldness toward her was always in stark contrast to his gentle care for Nicola, a contrast that left Emma with a deep, aching wound that never seemed to heal. A month later, Nicola successfully underwent her bone marrow transplant. There were no signs of rejection or complications, and her recovery was progressing smoothly. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt a sense of relief. In the past month, Ricky spent nearly all his time at the hospital, constantly by Nicola's side. He seemed to have forgotten about going to the courthouse with her to finalize the divorce. Emma had watched enough of his affection toward Nicola. She was ready to close this chapter, ready to walk away and rebuild her life. That day, she made up her mind to call him. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before Ricky finally picked up. "What is it?" he asked, his tone as cold and detached as ever. Emma didn't hesitate. "When are we going to finalize the divorce?" There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line. When Ricky finally spoke again, his voice was distant, but his words caught her off guard. "I haven't signed the papers yet." Her heart skipped a beat. After all this time, he still hadn't signed the divorce papers? Emma froze for a moment, her mind racing. Why hadn't Ricky signed the papers yet? Could he have changed his mind? Was there a possibility he no longer wanted the divorce? The thought was fleeting and absurd, and she quickly dismissed it. Ricky had always wanted to be free of her. Now that Nicola was recovering and old enough to marry, there was no reason for him to hold on. This delay couldn't possibly mean anything different. "Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow at nine," she said, her tone sharp, leaving no room for discussion before hanging up the phone. Meanwhile, in Ricky's office. For two years, Ricky had been waiting for this moment--the end of their marriage. The divorce papers had been drawn up months ago, prepared by his assistant, ready for the final signatures that would sever their ties for good. He had thought the moment he signed would bring relief, a clean break. But after Emma had actually signed them, something gnawed at him. A strange unease he couldn't shake. Ricky wasn't sure anymore, not even of himself. He wasn't something to be traded or handed over between two women. His decisions were his own--no one else had the right to make them for him. He calmly finished his work, then pulled the divorce papers from his desk drawer and tore them to pieces. "Divorce?" Ricky's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "It's not that simple. The game has just begun." ...... ==== Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. 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) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-e	Popular romance stories	https://www.facebook.com/100083149047490/	17,946	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-enj103_2-1105-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=673595984708315&rawadid=120213837972550033	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465648318_565736329369843_1152081650929624425_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yjXcPIZ2IV4Q7kNvgHxNVT7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEMn047vT227xN3vmDinoYx&oh=00_AYAdh0o8OhaoMekvngcpPfbcxNri28jyZcE_G21izPXYLg&oe=675C0690	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Popular romance stories	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,614,076	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2613979}'	No	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976	Get Your Little Warrior Ready 🥋 FREE Trial Class!	Parents, want to see your child become more confident, focused, and fit? 💪 Get a FREE Trial Class in Judo, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, or Self-Defense at Ararat Martial Arts & After School Fitness Center! 🥋 What your child will gain: ⚡ Increased confidence through martial arts achievement 🎯 Better focus and discipline 🤝 Friendships in a supportive environment 🥳 Fun and fitness in every class! Click "Get Offer" and claim your FREE class today! 📍	LEARN_MORE	http://fb.me/	Ararat MMA and After School Programs	https://www.facebook.com/Araratjudo/	980	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	AraratMartialArts.com	DCO	🥋 SPECIAL Offer \|\| FREE Trial Class in Judo, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, or Self-Defense!	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469165949_3465795137056292_6328500886435112414_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=nS72a_e87n0Q7kNvgHuG_AD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AU3tznWIUtS7zCrZdZyyzN3&oh=00_AYDremvRdLvtXEfpsnCyyxbmZEWYMxH815huu6w7r-lecA&oe=675C19F9	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Ararat MMA and After School Programs	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,615,016	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2614937}'	Yes	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977	😍Read the next chapters👉	At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/462070849_1186717122429002_4317317778552029382_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=drCagcm59FUQ7kNvgFHwfTE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOLb0PtKpxFQThX6T6PQW9F&oh=00_AYCPgfDM1CTBGEV3pFv4sbCw4MYN9LhsldDJnCEn1tSxiw&oe=675C2FDA	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,615,677	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2614937}'	No	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464681484_532171326224549_7177859630690723278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yfFcmxZTx6oQ7kNvgGpSud-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AyyAQzuCB2c_dOed6npvWrK&oh=00_AYAoEUpR4gdjDT37woqBDR18yDSM_NJYe-Lkl7FWMJNQbw&oe=675C1237	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,616,442	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2616451}'	No	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977		Only a mile from The Rink at Rockefeller Center, the neighborhood around us has a touch of everything – including iconic NYC winter vibes. It’s not just about the location; it’s about living where it all happens. 🍎 📸 Photo Credit: instagram.com/rodrigosanchez_9 Elevate Your Outlook → bit.ly/OrianaNeighborhood			Oriana NYC	https://www.facebook.com/OrianaNY/	485	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469782742_2364201893923079_7290409749973355526_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DPNC2XHWU48Q7kNvgEb-6pv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AgUghW_2oRBm5Cjlg97_Xs4&oh=00_AYB1rme1JeCmzTUezUFD07sf9YjHuJ3uraZg5BDo1siUMA&oe=675C34B7	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Oriana NYC	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,615,917	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2614724}'	Yes	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977	🔞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=kitqC4N2Q24Q7kNvgGuAAN2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7PidvPt09a4Zvnf78FlqGl&oh=00_AYBmLSFMBEi1lDDXXxlcRb5oR5h58f0O9IzNLlPTuUQjCA&oe=675C0611	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,613,362	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	Yes	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976	Read next chapter	Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the dug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a dug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. Pgnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bld test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j*k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a sap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e	Love Story Now	https://www.facebook.com/100083950326074/	25,614	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=295122&accid=3744269492476246&rawadid=120215701921820531	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468778274_1303919543965046_5645127763414392461_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xirpYtIWxDYQ7kNvgHlhwq9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AW8f6QmoixdG6LoPMj_W8V2&oh=00_AYAb7z6eHobb5i_Y-RyomiBsM-2uEUQqXmxoiXFZkWsqGw&oe=675C261C	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Love Story Now	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,618,084	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2618082}'	No	2024-12-09 09:00	active	1978	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,614,465	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2614464}'	Yes	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976	Heavy Drinkin'. Shootin'. Tinkerin' in the Junkyard. Killin' Alien Critters.	They came up on us like a gravy crap. We was just down by the creek dranking and shooting when them ugly suckers flanked us. My name is Lick. They call me Lick cause when I was a baby I used to lick everything. This is the story of me and my buddy Fanger. We call him Fanger cause when he was a kid he broke his panky fanger on his right hand and his mom and deddy didn't git it fixed right. Now it sticks out all the time like a fancy yankee or English man dranking tea. Anyway, this is the story of our first encounter and how we ended up on the run. Just like everybody else. First Contact "Leave that thang alone, Fanger!" I hollered. "You ain't the Crocodile Hunter." "Dadgum, Lick it's just a little copperhead. It ain't gonna do nothin'." Fanger let go of the snake's tail and sipped his beer. I started to take a sip but stopped and perked up my ears. Something out in woods was russlin’ around. Usually when the sun goes down you can't hear nothing but crickets and frogs. But right then I didn't hear nothing but russlin’. "Git your shotgun, Fanger." We always had plenty of guns and ammo around when we was drankin’. We liked to practice our rapid reload and shotgun speed shooting down by the creek. By my clock, Fanger had broke the shotgun speed shooting record on more than one occasion. "What the hell for?" Fanger licked his bottom lip and listened. "For that!" I drew my pistol and squeezed off shots like Rambo. This nasty ass thang jumped across the creek, screeching and shit with his tongue hanging out and wagging. I placed a few rounds square in his noggin and he dropped him like a turd. Fanger snatched his shotgun off the ground, cocked it and popped off a couple, just as warning shots for anything out there. "What in the hell is that damn thang?" Fanger said, holding his shotgun up to his shoulder and scanning the woods. "Couldn't tell ya, man." I hunkered down and ran my hand over the top of the critters strangy haired head. My hand slid down its neck and over the cold clammy skin on its back. I stared for minute, looking down at its naked body. "If I didn't know better I'd say that's Bill Cooper. But with slick white skin and a dangly tongue." Fanger sidestepped over and hunkered down next to me, still aiming his shot gun to the woods. "Holy shit," he said, jumping away. "That is Bill Cooper!" Fanger spun around looking for something to shoot. I stood up to listen and my butthole puckered. "More comin'!" I hollered. "Across the creek!" Fanger dropped his shotgun and drew his pistol. We opened fire into the woods, not really aiming just hoping to hit something before it hit us. These nasty critters bolted out of the woods and sprang across the creek. They all had slick looking white skin and big ass tongues. One of them came at me, tongue swanging from side to side, and tried to lash me with it. Ain't no way in hell I'm getting tongue slapped. Specially with a name like mine. I grabbed its tongue with my right hand, hoisted that sumbitch over my shoulder like a sack of taters, then flipped it over my head like I was Steven Seagal. The damn thang flipped around onto its feet like a cat, but I already had him in my sights and fired one into its skull. I looked over and Fanger was rasslin' one of them. I didn't see how, but the damn thang disarmed Fanger. Fanger's tough as they come though and don't give up without a fight. Specially after he's been drankin’. I took aim at the critter rolling around with Fanger, but another lunged across the creek at me. I raised my pistol and put that sumbitch down. They kept coming too. I didn't get a chance to shoot the one rasslin’ Fanger, but I took down every one that came at us from the woods. As I was shooting, I saw Fanger out of the corner of my eye. He was standing toe to toe with the critter with his hands up ready to box. The critter lashed his tongue and Fanger danced out of the way, dropped his shoulder and charged that sumbitch. Fanger wrapped his arms around the critter's waist and body slammed it to the ground. The critter flapped his arms out the side and kicked his feet, trying to flip Fanger off his back. Fanger snatched his arms and locked them in a double chicken wang. "Kill him!" I hollered. Fanger didn't say nothing. He wasn't the type to talk and bullshit when he fought. He got straight to business. He laid out over the critter’s back, wrapped his left arm around the critter's elbows to hold the chicken wang with one hand, then slapped his right hand around on the critters face. He felt around for the critters eyes and pressed his pokey fanger into its eye socket. The critter's left eyeball popped and sprayed juice half way across the creek. That seemed to do. That damn critter didn't move an inch after that. "I did it!" Fanger hollered, standing up over the critter and raising his right arm in victory. "I found its ankly heels." "What?" I said, scoping out the next critter. "Its ankly heels, man. Its weakness! Shot’em in the eyeball!" "It's akillers heel, dumbass, and I'm pretty sure anything'll die if you poke deep enough into its eyeball. Git the beer and let's haul ass to the truck!" I snatched up the bullets with my left hand and kept my pistol ready with my right. Fanger hoisted the beer cooler onto his right shoulder and ran behind me with his shotgun pointed to the ground. We heard more russlin’ behind us but we didn't stop to look. We got up to the road and collapsed against the truck. Neither one of us smoke, too damn expensive these days, and we were in pretty good shape from toting shit around at the junkyard all day, but the climb up from the creek was a bitch. "Holy shit," Fanger said, gasping for air and pointing up at the sky, "What the hell is that?" I scooted my back up the side of truck and adjusted my cap, squinting to adjust my eyes. Some kind of bright light hovered in the sky over the top of where town was. At least we figured town was still there. "What do you reckon that is?" I asked. "Couldn't tell yeah, man." Fanger spit and rotated around, putting both arms up on the bed of the truck and bending his knees to stretch his rib cage. "The damn sewage treatment plant finally exploded is my guess." "Git in the truck." I jerked the door open and climbed up to the cab. As I slammed the door, one of those critter's head rammed into the side. I pushed the door open and leaned to look down the side of the truck. The damn thang popped up right in my face. I yanked the door closed and my right hand slapped my hip, reaching for my gun was my natural instinct. Before I could draw, the glass shattered in my face and cold fingers wrapped around my neck. I grabbed its wrist with both hands and pulled with all my might, but the sumbitch was strong as shit. He pulled me closer to him and lashed out his tongue. I ducked my head to the right, dodging the tongue, and a shotgun blast rang my ears. Some kind of ooze sprayed across my face. I couldn't call it blood cause it was too black and too thick. The critters arm went limp in my hands and I pushed myself up in the seat with my legs. My head followed the arm out the window to git a look. The critters head was blowed clean off. The body collapsed and was leaning like a circus contortionist on the side of my truck. "More comin'!" Fanger hollered, standing in the bed of the truck. He fired off a shot and one of them critters fell to the ground at the edge of the woods. I cranked the truck, threw it into gear, and Fanger sat down in the bed of the truck with his shotgun on ready. I hauled ass down the gravel road with the ass end of the truck fish tailing around the curves. Fanger's shotgun blasted at a steady rhythm from behind me and them damn critters lurched out of the woods ahead of me. I swerved to avoid one critter and heard the hollow thump of something crashing in the front of the truck. A head bounced over the hood and slapped into the windshield, spraying black ooze everywhere. Like a dumbass, I turned on the wipers. Black ooze covered the damn windshield and I couldn't see shit. With both hands on the steering wheel, I pulled myself up, hooked my left arm out the busted window, and pulled my head out to see. Steering with just one hand, I said screw it and started aiming straight for them sumbitches ever time I saw one. This went on for a good two miles. Fanger poppin’ them off from the back and me ramming their asses from the front. Once we got closer to the paved road, I saw headlights blazing from the left and taillights glowing from the right. I stopped at the intersection and Fanger pounded on the roof off the truck, jumped out of the bed and hopped in the passenger seat. "What in the hell's goin' on?" Fanger said, twisting around in the seat. Those critters had stopped charging us for some reason, but neither of was gonna drop our guard. "Couldn't tell ya, man." Fanger hopped out and rubbed the black ooze off the window with a rag he found on the floor board. He jumped back in and we sat for a minute watching car after car full of people we knew heading out of town. I looked over at Fanger and we both turned our eyes up to the big ass light in the sky. With all the critters and cars evacuating we damn near forgot all about the big ass light. "You wanna do it?” I said, looking over at Fanger. "You damn skippy I do." I crossed the traffic and turned left. As soon as I did, ever car insight started blasting their horns. The truck in front of us in the other lane flashed its brights and I slowed down. I pulled up next to Earl Bigley and hollered over the horns, "What's all the fuss about?" "Hell if I know," Earl hollered. "Some kinda invasion." "What?" Fanger hollered, climbing over me to poke his head out the window. "Invasion!" Earl hollered and took off down the road. The cars behind him flew past, filling in the gap Earle created by stopping. "He said invasion, right?" Fanger said, floppin’ back down in his seat. "That's what I heard." I gave Fanger a nod and he nodded back. I took off towards town, ignoring the horn blasts and hollering that came from the cars. I drove, keeping my eye on the big ass light in the sky. Fanger flopped around in the seat, on the look out for critters. "Holy shit," I said pointing up at the sky, "That damn things blinking." "What fer, you reckon.” Fanger sat up straight for a better look. I shrugged and put the petal to the metal. We hauled ass down the road for several miles, the other cars a had all gone past and the road was empty except for us. "Look! Look! Look!" Fanger hollered, snatching his shotgun from between the door and the seat. I tilted my head up and squinted. At first I thought I was seeing a flock of birds but they were too damn big. The wings spread out about eight or ten feet wide. When one got closer, I could tell it wasn't no damn bird. Feet landed on the hood of the truck, graceful as hell, and a set man junk stood square in my face. The damn thang was naked as hell and built like a person with wings. It lowered itself to one knee, looked through the windshield and shifted its eyes between me and Fanger. "Lick," Fanger said, raising his shotgun, "I swear that's Bill Cooper again. Didn't you kill his ass?" "I thought I did." Just as I got a good look at the thang, it opened its mouth and screeched to high heaven. The sumbitch leaned its head up to the big ass light and looked back down at me, screeching the whole time. Slobber dripped from it's lips and two fangs appeared as it stretched its mouth wide and curled up its top lip. "That thang's a dadgum vampar," Fanger hollered. He raised the shotgun and aimed it at the vampar. "Wait! Stop!" I said, reaching for the shotgun but it was too late. Fanger pulled the trigger. I jerked my right arm up to cover my face. I looked under my arm and through the hole in the windshield. Fanger hit the vampar square in the chest. That black ooze flowed out but the vampar wasn't fazed a damn bit. "Those ain't no silver bullets!" I hollered. "Don't matter none. That ain't no werewolf." Fanger fired of another shot, blowing the vampars head clean off. Its wings went limp, dropped down over the hood of the truck and the body rolled off onto the road. "They're swarming on us!" I hollered. Vampars flew into the truck from all directions, head butting it and denting the shit out of every inch of my ride. My hands swung side to side, fighting to keep the truck on the road. The roof crunched in and an arm shot through the window, the hand feeling around for something to grab onto. I swatted with my left hand, keeping the hand from grabbing me. Fanger pointed the shotgun towards the roof and moved the tip of the barrel around, trying to figure out where best to shoot. Then the big ass light stopped flashing and the vampars took off into the air. They flew in formation towards the big ass light. "Screw this," I said, stomping on the gas, "I wanna know what the hell is goin' on." The truck still ran good even though those asshole vampars tried the pounded us flat. We got just to the edge of town and steered over to the side of the road. "Whaddya thank?" I said, twisting the key and killing the engine. "Couldn't tell ya, man." Fanger opened the door and climbed out of the truck. I grabbed some bullets, checked that my gun was on hip and climbed out too. I walked around the front of the truck, looking up at the sky. "That light looks dimmer than before." "Sure does," Fanger said, meeting at the front of the truck. "Let's walk in a little ways and go in stealth." I nodded and we walked side by side off the shoulder of the road. We crept along the woods, eyes peeled and guns ready, inching our way to the edge of town. As we got closer we could see naked people walking around all over the place. "They hippies or somethin'?" Fanger whispered. "Lord I hope not," I whispered back. "That's all we need is a hippy invasion." We stayed low in the woods and watched. The naked people walked in and out of the buildings around town but didn't seem to be doing a damn thang. "I'm goin' in,” Fanger said, straighten up and climbing to the road. I followed, trying to figure out why a bunch of hippies would invade our town. Fanger grabbed my shoulder, damn near poking me in the eye with has bad fanger and said, "There's Bill Cooper again." "There he is again." I pointed to the other side of the street. "Hey, that's Maybelle Turner." Fanger let go of my shoulder. "Dang, she looks halfway decent naked." "There she is again with another Bill Cooper." My mouth dropped open. I figured it out. "Them are clones," I said in a loud whisper. "What about those tongue critters at the creek and the vampars?" Fanger scratched his head with his pokey fanger. "Shit, man, I thank we better git to the junkyard. I got a bad feeling about this." Junkyard Me and Fanger sipped beers and cooled down from the all the excitement. The hole in the windshield let in a nice breeze that helped. As we circled wide around town in the truck, we watched Naked Bill Coopers and Maybelle Turners walk in and out of the buildings carrying all kinda shit. Fanger twisted in his seat and said, “Were them first Bill Coopers we killed naked?” “Say what?” I was only half ass listening. My mind was on the junkyard. “Them Bill Coopers with big ass tongues down by the creek. Were they naked?” I held my beer can to my lips and sucked in a big swallow. “I can’t remember. Ever thang was going so fast.” “Huh.” Fanger kicked his knees up and rested them against the dashboard. I nodded for a second along with Fanger then gunned it out of town. We had to get to the junkyard. Ever minute that passed my hunch grew stronger. We cruised in silence, the sound of beer cans cracking open and sipping was all that filled the truck. Nothing outside moved neither. No naked people and the vampars had all disappeared. A light down the road came into view and I turned to Fanger. “Provisions?” I said. “Yep.” Fanger squirmed up in the seat. I eased my foot off the gas and coasted into Chubby’s General Store. Damn place was lit up and wide open. Chubby musta hauled ass outa there. “You git the food and beer. I’ll git the ammo,” I said, slamming the truck door and holding my hand on my pistol, ready to pop it off my hip at the first sign of trouble. Fanger knew the drill. We made this stop several times a week. Grabbing shit and not paying made it even faster than usual. We were back in the truck in a flash. “Why the hell we goin’ to the junkyard anyhow?” Fanger asked. “Cause I thank this shit is all cause of us.” “Do what?” Fanger ripped a piece of beef jerky with his teeth and chewed long slow chomps as he scanned out the window. “You remember last week when we was drunk as shit after work.” “Kinda. That's pretty much ever day, ain’t it?” “But I mean the day we was super slap as drunk cause we finished the seddy device.” “Hell yeah I remember that. We sent our first transmission to outer space.” “Thank about,” I said, adjusting my fangers on the steering wheel. “What did we say?” “We said all kinda a crazy shit.” “I mean specifics, Fanger. Can you remember anythang specific we said?” “Huh.” Fanger chewed his jerky and let his wheels turn for a minute. “We dared them aliens to come mess with us?” “And?” “We told them to come after us with ever thang they got.” “Like what?” “Like clones.” Fanger adjusted the wad of jerky in his mouth with his tongue and his eyes grew big a shit. “And vampars!” My eyes shifted between the road and Fanger. It was coming to him. “Ho. Lee. Shit.” Fanger popped up straight in the seat and leaned towards me. “Our seddy device freakin' works! We asked for all this shit!” “Yep.” I smiled a little. Half of me was happy we had successfully communicated with the aliens. The other half was shitting bricks cause we caused an alien invasion. “It all makes sense,” Fanger said through chews. “Our message dared them bastards to come mess with us. I even told them to bring naked critters, naked clones and naked vampars.” I tapped my foot on the brake and looked at Fanger out of the corner of my eye, waiting for it to come to him. “Uh oh.” Fanger swallowed his jerky and chugged a gulp of beer. “We said all kinda messed up shit, didn’t we?” I nodded and glanced up at the the sky. The big ass light in the sky stared to glow bright again. “Not good,” I muttered. Fanger sniffed the air over the top of his beer can. “You fart?” “Not recently.” I leaned toward the hole in the windshield to get a good look at the sky and sniffed. “Holy shit, Fanger. You see what I see?” Fanger poked his head out the window and squinted at the big ass light. “Well I’ll be. Them thangs are flyin’ but they ain’t got wangs.” A low hum filled the air along with the stench of ass. The truck drifted onto the shoulder and I jerked it back on the road, keeping my eyes to the sky. “Those look like Maybelle Turners. What the hell is makin’em fly?” A swarm of Maybelle Turners headed straight for us, with their asses in the air and arms and boobs dangling down in front. “If that don’t beat all,” Fanger said, more surprised than worried. “Them aliens must be sendin' ever damn thang we asked for.” “What are them? I said, trying to watch the road and the bent over Maybelle Turners in the sky. Fanger chuckled. “Flyin’ fart monters.” “No shit.” I grunted out a deep laugh. “But naked?” “We said naked for ever thang.” Fanger waved his hand past his nose. “Them things are fart propelled.” The hum grew into straight up fart noises. The bent over Maybelle Turns stuck their asses even higher in the air and dove right for us. I punched it, steering with my right hand and pinching my nose with my left. “What the hell they gonna do?” Fanger tried to roll up the window but an ass appeared in his face before he could get it all the way up. A giant fart ripped passed Fanger’s face and filled the cab with the worst stankin’ ass poot I’d ever smelled. “Git that ass outa here!” I hollered as two Maybelle Turners landed in the bed of the truck. I twisted my head back and a foot pounded in my face. Both flying fart monsters were kicking at my rear window. After a flurry of kicks the window smashed and two asses poked in. Two sets of ass cheeks flapped with the sound of high-pitched motorcycle engines piercing my ears. “Hot damn!” Fanger elbowed the ass on his side. “Shoot’em dammit!” I wanted to go for my pistol but the smell was so bad I could’t let go of my nose. Fortunate for us, Fanger had just the right amount of beer buzz. He could thank fast at certain stages of intoxication. Holding his breath, he popped open the glove box and felt around. More Maybelle Turners landed in the back of the truck. At least four asses filled the back window. By this time it sounded like the world’s biggest monster truck rally. One Maybelle Turner landed on the hood. Then another and another. I couldn’t see shit. Asses covered the windshield, with one of them poking through the hole. Fanger cracked open a beer and tossed in my lap. “Cover yourself!” he hollered, pouring a beer over his head. I took a deep breath and snatched the beer can outa my lap. I glanced over at Fanger and emptied the thang over my head. Beer dripped down my face and ran into my eyes. I couldn’t see shit. More beers cracked open and another one landed in my lap. “Git your face real good!” Fanger hollered. I kept my left hand on the wheel and pressed the thumb and fanger of my right into the corner of my eyes. I pinched my fangers together, clearing my eyes long enough to get a peek at Fanger. He was fumbling around with something in his hands but I couldn’t make out what. “More beer on your face!” Fanger hollered. I snatched the beer outa my lap, tilted my head back and raised the beer over my head. Just as the beer dropped out of the can I glanced over at Fanger again. “Fanger! No!” I hollered. Fanger didn’t even flinch. With his arms up in front of him, his right hand slid past his left. In a split second I heard the crackle of a match turn to the sound of a muffled explosion. The truck cab light up brighter than the big ass light in the sky, and my reflexes forced my hands over my face. “Wooooo!” Fanger hollered. I couldn’t force a peep at what was happening to save my life. I coulda swore I was inside the damn sun. Then it hit me. I knew why Fanger told me to pour the beer all over myself. The heat of the flames warmed my skin but they didn’t burn me for shit. “Hell yeah, Fanger! Hell yeah!” I hollered, as the warm sensation of the fart flames covered my body. Hollow implosions that sounded kinda like somebody dropped one of them old-timey TV sets vibrated through the air. The heat of the flames changed to a warm wet feeling. I spread my fingers open and looked straight ahead. A Maybelle Turner flying fart monster stood dead ahead of me on the hood of my truck. It was swelling up like a blowfish with flames flaring out of its ass. “It’s workin, Lick!” Fanger’s voice was filled with excitement. The flying fart monster on the hood opened it’s mouth to screech or some shit then exploded. Black ooze sprayed all over me and Fanger. “You’re a dadgum genius, Fanger.” I rubbed my hands down my face and flicked the black ooze off out the hole in windshield. I blinked my eyes clear and focused on the fart gas trails from the Maybelle Turner as they flared up across the sky. If I didn’t know where that shit came from, I might describe it as kinda purty. “How’d you know that would work, Fanger?” Fanger shrugged with a crooked smile as he rubbed the black ooze in his palms. “You did know that wasn’t gonna kill us too, right?” “Well,” Fanger said, fishin’ around for a beer in the cooler at at his feet, “I figured if we wasn’t the ones fartin' we oughta be a’ight.” I stared for a second and reached out my hand to Fanger. “Can’t complain with results. Beer me.” Me and Fanger both sat back, chugged a beer and tossed the can through the back window. With my head tilted up to the sky, I reached out for another beer. “The big ass light in the sky is still glowing strong.” Fanger handed me a beer and muttered, “Mmm hmm.” “We better haul ass to the junkyard.” I gunned it down the road, never touching the brakes. “Why you thank they cloned Bill Cooper and Maybelle Turner of all people?” Fanger asked. I scrunched up my lips, thought for a second then shrugged my right shoulder. “Hell if I know.” We both finished off another beer and tossed it in the back as we approached the entrance to the junkyard. “How you wanna play this?” I asked Fanger. He was still in his strategic thanking stage of drunk. Fanger twisted his jaw and wiped the inside of his teeth with his tongue as he looked around. “Haul ass on in there I reckon.” “Ten four.” I put the pedal to the metal and we bounced off the paved road onto the gravel road that lead through the junkyard. I rammed straight through the chain that stretched across the entrance, kicking up gravel as I weaved through all the junk stacked on the sides of the road. I knew this road so well I could drive it blind folded, which me and Fanger actually did some nights when we was shit faced. “Better stop a ways out from seddy,” Fanger said over the crunching of gravel. I turned down an even narrower trail that lead to a trailer me and Fanger used for storing shit. Soon as I parked, we both hopped outa the truck and bolted for the trailer. I hustled up the steps me and Fanger built, hand on my pistol of course, and looked back over my shoulder as I pushed the door open. “We can scope shit out for a minute.” We both headed straight for the ammo first. Great minds thank alike I reckon. We topped off our ammo and flung our go bags over our shoulders—me and Fanger was ready for this shit—and stepped to the back window. We both knelt down, leaned forward, and turned our eyes to the sky. The big ass light was still there and it was still glowing bright as hell. “Head for seddy?” Fanger said, standing up straight and arching his back. “Best grab the emergency whiskey.” I pushed off the wall and adjusted my go bag on my shoulder. I kept my eye on the big ass light as I grabbed a bottle off our whiskey shelf. I had a feeling we was gonna need it if I was right about seddy. I followed Fanger down the steps, twisting my head around in case something naked came after us. I won’t call it nervousness, I don’t git that way, but I had a tanglin’ in my belly for damn sure. We crept down the trail, keeping close to the junk pile and listening for shit. Fanger looked back over his shoulder and raised his left palm at me. He lowered his right hand to his right hip, panky fanger pokin’ out of course, and grabbed hold of his pistol, turning his head back to the front. I stopped in my tracks and waited for Fanger’s signal, clutching the whiskey bottle in one hand and my pistol on the other. After a good five seconds, Fanger closed his left fist and started creeping again. Our endless nights of drinking and training sure as hell paid off. We squeezed our way through the small trails that lead to the middle of the junkyard, stopping ever now and then to listen. As we rounded the last curve before hitting the the clearing where we built the seddy device, Fanger glanced back at me. Scanning the area, I stood up while spinning the lid off the whiskey. I took a swig and handed the bottle to Fanger as I walked past him into the clearing. “There it is,” I said, reaching back for the whiskey. “Yep.” Fanger moved up next to me, chugged down several swallows and passed me the bottle. We walked side by side, circling seddy and giving it a look over. I shoved the base of the dish we built outa sheet metal. Damn thang didn't move for shit. “Outside cables are good,” Fanger said, running the cables through his hands that lead from the gas powered generator to the sheet metal building off to the side of the dish. “Ready to go in?” “Might as well start the generator.” I said, twisting the top back on the whiskey bottle. Fanger flipped the switch on the generator and seddy lit up the clearing. I lifted the gate latch on the sheet metal door and bumped it with my hip. Just as the door opened, static from the radio speakers we rigged up crackled through the air. I jumped back from the door, unholstered my pistol and looked at Fanger. “Hey, boy!” some redneck hollered through seddy. “What the hell?” Fanger bolted past me and kicked the door open. Just as he did the big ass light in the sky lit up even brighter. “Fanger stop!” I hollered. We both walked backwards watching the big ass light in the sky as it flew closer to us. “Hey, boy!” the voice hollered again. “You the sumbitches that sent the message?” “What the hell?” I looked at Fanger and he shrugged. “You start shit. We finish shit. We’re here to stomp a mud hole in this planet’s ass,” the voice hollered. “Whaddya gotta say nah, boy?” The big ass light in the sky hovered directly over us. Me and Fanger squinted up at it, tryin to git a good look but couldn’t see shit. I took another swig of whiskey and passed Fanger the bottle. This is some bullshit. ---------- Lick and the Invasion Series \| Humorous Science Fiction and Southern Humor Mashup Buy the 7 books in the series direct from me (the author) for one discounted price. It’s easy! Purchase the eBooks, BookFunnel emails you the links to your files, download the files and send them to the device of your choice. What are you waiting for? Get the books NOW! **** The bundle now includes a free short story written by Lick Darsey titled Slurp and the Lightning Bolt Time Machine: The Dinosaur Adventure.	LEARN_MORE	https://robsmithbooks.com/products/all-7-lick-and-	Rob Smith Books	https://www.facebook.com/robsmithbooks/	1,190	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	robsmithbooks.com	DCO	Lick and the Invasion Series \| Humorous Science Fiction and Southern Humor Mashup	https://robsmithbooks.com/products/all-7-lick-and-the-invasion-books	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469793291_605934195228240_7590800632448010095_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ajrZuLl5R2AQ7kNvgGHhYGL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AL7by9zeaxCbt7cJCxx7AOU&oh=00_AYBX3o1PPNv6kPPaueQJX7fEr6NYYLU76xJmECAX8B0cuA&oe=675C32AF	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Rob Smith Books	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,611,898	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2611042}'	No	2024-12-08 19:06	active	1974		🥳 December #giveaway!!! I know you have been waiting for it 💚🐾🎄 🫂 Holidays are meant for family and friends. We are so blessed to be full for #Christmas so you can spend time with yours! 🎅🏾 Share your #holiday pics in the comments for a chance to win this month's giveaway! ❤️ Below is my little bro and I with our kiddos, and our family Christmas #pictures ❄️	MESSAGE_PAGE		Sadie's Place	https://www.facebook.com/100070426414073/	466	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		MULTI_IMAGES			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469650953_2612206989169075_7549548572520329338_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kY1QIvoFSCAQ7kNvgFwyd8O&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AI_ardaGdOwAzC6XwDrJnjU&oh=00_AYDETuBl84Acqaeod2tV0ont1K8cmg5UfRsX0k9TofCTAw&oe=675BF92D	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Sadie's Place	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,613,190	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2613187}'	No	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976	🔥🔥👉Click to read the rest of the chapters🔥🔥	Zade’s POV I've been married to my wife for three years and despite that, we have never slept together in the same room because Jenna thought I was disgusting, she said it to my face too. But tonight, when I just about to fall asleep, I felt someone entering my room. "Who is it?" I asked, squinting in the dimly lit room to look at the figure that was now approaching my bed, my skin crawled but I remained calm as I watched. The person didn't say anything but it didn't take long for me to feel a soft body fall on me, she belched and her breath showed she was drunk. I could smell that she was drunk already and I tried to move up a little to give her space but she pulled me back into herself and that was when I saw her. It was Jenna, my wife of three years. I was further surprised and caught off guard when Jenna started taking her clothes off until she wasn't wearing anything anymore. She kissed me and I was stunned, my mouth dropped open as Jenna took the initiative, kissing me until I couldn't help but start kissing her back. What’s happening here? After 3 years, she finally agreed to admit that I was her husband? I was so excited, I hugged Jenna tightly. She was so initiative, just like a storm. My clothes was taken off by her, I could not control myself anymore... One hour later, I laid on the bed heavily. A satisfying smile appeared on Jenna’s face, she was so enjoyable just now. And I couldn't believe what was going on, I'd thought it was a dream as Jenna and I had slept together. Laying on the bed right beside Jenna, I let out a sigh as my eyes remained wide open and with nothing else to do, I stared at the ceiling, still trying to process what had just happened. Jenna and I just slept! Shaking my head, I pushed the roaming thoughts out of my head and just when I turned over to hug her, I heard her mutter another man's name blissfully. "It was so good, Simon..."	LEARN_MORE	https://herfv.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=14693&u	Fantasy reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559983820642/	3,732	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	herfv.com	DCO		https://herfv.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=14693&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/t39.35426-6/462711738_516084747958421_99219149230502259_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=N1I4Qhb5gf4Q7kNvgFuZ0LU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AzIgLQRhQyEwFbDFbLNl51T&oh=00_AYBI5m6xBX4udczbSGXG9U93CyhRnmDLIsKFJHD4n85eJg&oe=675C1FD5	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Fantasy reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,614,197	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2614196}'	No	2024-12-08 19:42	active	1976			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/xlabelapparel	X Label Apparel	https://www.facebook.com/shopxlabel/	1,923	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/xlabelapparel	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469677916_28192268927038407_9222842466550072283_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jIa9apMqmE0Q7kNvgF3WoGE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AuNJpAA478CG698s6gmb-ru&oh=00_AYAh-BkRBNTLPsdp0xUf7lY3cCILQMk8frt_aVHggvI6bA&oe=675C2F5F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	X Label Apparel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,617,038	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2616451}'	No	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977		Pretty little things everywhere. Your one-stop-shop for home decor, great gifts, cute apparel, and unexpected delights, because it’s never the same store twice!	MESSAGE_PAGE		The Good Stuff	https://www.facebook.com/TheGoodStuffJupiter/	23,253	1969-12-31 18:00	Send message		MULTI_IMAGES			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469354628_2010974616054871_6680280503773046147_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Ul1C4KVK7DYQ7kNvgGZnQ_k&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApsIJlsv35-HFGZeeY2xBIF&oh=00_AYCFDkuOIDUI8MzLsAIsjs-0KOy6MCum8CZtc_mWtWQWmw&oe=675C1270	PERSON_PROFILE	0	The Good Stuff	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,617,050	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2617049}'	Yes	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/roofing_innovations	Roofing Innovations LLC	https://www.facebook.com/100089956893752/	3	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/roofing_innovations	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469697486_497861502645587_6064898160203685260_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Td9BQsjszmYQ7kNvgGdIbjD&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A_vTvTP1Rr_VDG6BAQFDU33&oh=00_AYAbJFxloaKnQRUv5_izYjPVvVuiXGoML4n-JgERlnHiCg&oe=675C0FE3	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Roofing Innovations LLC	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,617,055	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977	1989 F-150 351W	1989 F-150 351W - $7,500.00 This is a 1989 F-150 with a 6” lift. The 4-wheel drive works. The engine was swapped with a 351W. Runs and drives. This is a project truck. I’ve done a majority of the work but it still needs some tinkering. This truck has some real potential. Nice clean red interior W/ Minimal rust. Clean title. Ive put a lot of work into this truck. Only selling because I am going to college coming up, and I can’t take it with me. Facebook Marketplace	CONTACT_US	https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/129342395161	Mason Swanson	https://www.facebook.com/Mason-Swanson-256874570838406/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Contact us		IMAGE		https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1293423951610774/	1969-12-31 18:00		REGULAR_PAGE	1	Mason Swanson	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,617,066	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2616451}'	Yes	2024-12-08 20:15	active	1977	💈The Original BarberShop		CALL_NOW		The Original BarberShop	https://www.facebook.com/TheoriginalbarbershopElfers/	1,687	1969-12-31 18:00	Call Now		CAROUSEL			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469560953_571531222387096_5830481668166901265_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WQnUOeA2n1MQ7kNvgFDIp_P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AK2Q9abhXNaRRSKwSUAVMiL&oh=00_AYArLG3cUTQD9A6roMnR8VMvqm3d8CvNApQdkU7XEgv71g&oe=675C307E	PERSON_PROFILE	0	The Original BarberShop	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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