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2,644,683	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	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	Hello reading	https://www.facebook.com/61552535188096/	50,031	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=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214071979070250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469523689_1282019366256592_526303053414540495_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BL4sRNTM3NIQ7kNvgH37F5I&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ApgsRn7-v2kC_NPtHEzFCrs&oh=00_AYAkalXpqTu6eNhLkwU2krc1BTEc2Wi4fft1V1T9umhcUw&oe=6761552A	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,645,050	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2645023}'	No	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	❤️😍What happens next👉Click Here to read on👉	"Goodnight baby." My best friend Bryson fixed the soft cover over me. But I didn't expect the night came this way. "Bryson, what are you doing here?" I whispered and opened my sleepy eyes, looking into his startling green eyes that shone with love. I must be dreaming. Why was he staring at me with so much love? Bryson takes a step forward, his eyes darkening with lust when they fall to my parted mouth. I let out a gasp of air from the intensity of the fire of desire swirling in his foresty gaze. His eyes cause my body to burn with heat and I bit my bottom mouth to stop myself from moaning out loud. I'm like a flickering match under the weight of his stare and when he spoke in a husky tone next, I burn alive. "Em, I want you," He groaned, his eyes darkening until they swirled with red. His wolf was aroused too. It wasn't only him. "I've wanted you for so long. I want you Em. I want you so badly it hurts." His hands reach up and he bunches his shirt in his hand. Where his heart beat. "I want you and I'm going to claim you. I'm claiming you as mine Em. You're mine, I knew it. You're my luna- - I gasped, my upper half snapping up in a sitting position. I gripped the covers around my body as I try to relax my pounding heart. Great Em, now you're dreaming of your best friend claiming you.... You can't be any more obsessed than this. Pang. My brows furrowed. Pang. Another pang cracks the silence in the room. The only person or should I say wolf who would do this was none other than my best friend. The boy I just dreamt about. "Now can you tell me why you're here so late?" I asked, trying to move his attention away from me. "I came here for you." "What?" I breathed out, my heart rate kicking up a notch. Bryson voiced. "I can't sleep. I desired to see you-" That word. Desire.... He clears his throat and lifts his hand in his hair where he scratches behind his nape. "I want you to join me for a run Em." I looked around. "It' really not a good idea to be here with you, especially since in a few days there's going to be your ceremony." And he'll be mated... "Let's go to our special place." He murmured.	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14662&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	1,617	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14662&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/t39.35426-6/462593743_554049917280327_1091688798459121906_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=G-XPzd4tJSwQ7kNvgHR14bc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AFrz5KniHKw7z8CG7hz4EgB&oh=00_AYDcviu8POlV4Dk63YEAnvlW9vErNNz5_pSwfuQrhIvX1A&oe=67616B0D	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,644,660	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644650}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	Get Your Free Instant Quote	Get Your Free Instant Quote	GET_QUOTE	http://fb.me/	VooltPro Certified Provider	https://www.facebook.com/vooltprocertifiedproviders/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Get Quote	fb.me	CAROUSEL	Get Your Free Instant Quote	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469516399_3695569407254970_6991361617380110472_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8Wk1AOu2OCcQ7kNvgG9s0yZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL6wyRTBpzJZn4g0y_Ux0su&oh=00_AYAYxSH0zRYd8-S0NnjwXelDXTHclW_t55Ss00FqqkPsiA&oe=67614EC2	PERSON_PROFILE	VooltPro Certified Provider	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,647,286	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2647875}'	Yes	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997		💃 TONIGHT & every Thursday @ 7p, it's DJ Mark McGillicuddy! 🕺Celtics & Bruins shown tonight in HD w/Keno, plus full menu served until 9p! www.steaktips.com. Next Thursday: DJ Mark will also entertain @ our Christmas Party Dec 19 @ 6p. Join us!🎅🇮🇪🇺🇸 * $3 Pints & $10 Pitchers of Cronin's 1938 from Bud Select * Shepherd's Pie-Irish classic topped w/cheddar & mashed-$19 * Sirloin Tips w/salad or fries-$26 "Essential"-Boston Magazine			Cronin's Publick House	https://www.facebook.com/100063470146043/	3,384	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-atl3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470058658_989691003202581_954961350091531725_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Bhj3F44oAxIQ7kNvgEIdHe-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ANHkvdLFBxcXlzuu4S-OpVo&oh=00_AYBDN2-neiReOSfEDvfN5iu6LiJakFekMTLyVMg9rzyswg&oe=6761504A	PERSON_PROFILE	Cronin's Publick House	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,644,608	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644605}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	🔥🔥👉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/	3,758	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=WXScosB2r1cQ7kNvgGHZcAF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AGoXs8UOgndF-r6oofJXk9z&oh=00_AYAlIdDae5RSrheKYCD9SHlYXtQuh601QvI_uM5pEEJh-w&oe=676165D5	PERSON_PROFILE	Fantasy reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,645,163	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2645158}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449519236_1046539403757177_3822833957968181908_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SOJrvrHfehkQ7kNvgGJTMij&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXizsN_bN17gsHxRWypjSYD&oh=00_AYCoQJn6VFnSlZO5lG2WKKbKcrtsZVDyattDuEtL78_zFw&oe=676152A6	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,644,786	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	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? 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2,644,974	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644944}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448916543_502070082268628_4383741934976369995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s9H_nfuS-gEQ7kNvgHuZX8i&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A53oq0VlggduTf3dGfiA62F&oh=00_AYAmdpN4AnaAy16j5etKTQQ3ZgN4qfCMGygA3LAWhcXKIA&oe=676165D0	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,644,934	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644893}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Chapter 1 IRENE'S POV My chast heaved with rapid breaths, my eyes fluttered close. My lips fell open and a moan squeezed past my throat. My fingers were working overtime as I pushed them in and out of my wetness with my legs spread apart in bed. I bit the corners of my lips as I threaded my fingers through my hair, gripping them a bit hard like I suspected he would. I imagined his hands on me instead. His long fingers sliding in and out, coated with my juices. He would stroke my insides while holding my legs apart. "Karson," I moaned when his image was all I could see. I reached out my hand to touch him. To touch his rock hard body and trail my fingers down his chast to the V-line where his towel had hung loose. His scent was buried in my memory. All it took was one sniff and here I was, moaning to this man and bucking my hiips. He looked so much better. His face was more defined and he grew so handsome in a short while. His shoulders were broad and wide. He had a perfect figure and toned body. I increased my pace and I gasped when I found it. I slapped a hand over my mouth. The rising heat in the lower part of my stomach increased. Tears rolled down my face. I craved his touch, his fire. My body ached for his attention, the warmth in his eyes, I desired nothing more- My toes curled and I jerrked my hiips as my body convulsed. I bit into my palm as my orggasm rolled out of me. It took a while to recover. I was breathing hard and trying to gather myself again. This was the state he left me in. every single time we bumped into each other. Just a whiff of his scent and I was squirming for his touch. I almost felt terrible for including him in my little session but he was all I could think about. I've been masturbatting frequently now. My mating ceremony to the man of my fantasies was today. One part of me was pleased and happy with the fact that I would have my long time dream come true; being mated to Karson. He was the soon to be Alpha of The Nightcrawlers Pride. I didn't care about his title, that wasn't the reason I loved him. With or without his title, I was bound to be drawn to him. While one part was pleased, the other part was devastated. As much as I wanted to be his mate, I wasn't. Even worse, Karson seemed to think that I had bewitched Luna- his mother- into arranging our marriage. "She's wolfless, mother," he had said during dinner tonight. His contempt was loud, his mock even louder. I withdrew my hands from the table and hid them under with my head lowered at the usual confrontation. "I know," Luna Teresa's reply was calm like she was unaffected by her son's cruel words. I wished his words wouldn't affect me at all. Yet every time he opened his mouth, I was close to tears. Maybe if I loved him any less, I would have tougher skin and wouldn't be running to my room crying like a three year old. He was right. I was wolfless. It wasn't impossible for a werewolf not to have a wolf, it was just rare to find and even rarer for that wolfless wolf to be Luna, ruling over a powerful pack as The Nightcrawlers Pride. According to the book of records in the Pack, I would be the first wolfless Luna. While breaking a record didn't seem too bad, this wasn't exactly the kind of record I would be boastful of. "Yet you would subject your only son and heir to the Pride Family Pack to this fate?" Karson had asked his mother in an accusing tone that made me stop feeling sorry for myself but sorry for her. A wolfless mate meant one of two things; There was a high chance of birthing a wolfless pup and there was a lower chance of birthing a pup- in this case, the next Alpha. I squeezed my dress in a fist. The pressure that was upon my shoulders was more than anyone could ever imagine. "I have strong faith in our genes," Aunt Teresa- as I'd come to know her, smirked. "After all, your father's family were all Alpha's, down to his mother. So you're from a thick and strong Alpha bloodline. I have faith in you-" "My goodness!" Karson huffed in disbelief. "Can you hear yourself, mother? You're betting everything away for her?" I wanted the soft dining chair that had suddenly grown cold under my bvtt to swallow me. "What’s so special about her anyways!" I've heard that before. It shouldn't be anything new. I've cried my eyes out to those words yet every time he asked, it was a whole different feeling than I had bargained for. I was plain. I had no scent, no wolf, no family. There was literally nothing to my name. All I had was everything Aunt Teresa had given to me since I was five. My parents died in a war and Luna had been so kind as to take me in. She couldn't recall my last name so she gave me Pride instead. I was already sharing a last name with the man I came to love. Karson and I lived under the same roof. Growing up around him had been okay. He never showed me this hate, he never even spoke to me except when we were at the table. But ever since he returned from his training where he stayed away to be Alpha for three years, things had gone down the drain. "This is your doing, isn't it?" I stiffened at his words and finally lifted my gaze. The anger and hate in his eyes was enough to let a tear slide down my eye. He was convinced I had bewitched Luna. After all, why would she decide to kil her own bloodline that had been passed down for years? I quickly wiped my eyes. I didn't want Luna to notice plus Karson would scold me and be cross at me if his mother confronted him about making me cry. I fear he was already running from my reach before I could even stretch out my hands. "I'm sorry, I have no hand in this," I said either way, knowing fully well that he wouldn't believe me. "Don't apologize for things that are beyond your control, Irene," Aunt Teresa wiped her mouth with her napkin and rose to her feet. "You two will be just fine. The mating ceremony is in a few days. Get to know yourselves a lot better," with her little advice, she walked away, allowing fear to step in. Karson would eat me alive now that we were alone. I wanted to run after Aunty but I knew it would be childish- "Don’t get any ideas in your head," Karson stated and I turned my attention to him. His words pierced me like a hot thin needle. "You're only my mother's choice. Once I find my mate, I'll have her as my Luna and you'll step down." I gulped and started to nod slowly at his words. "I don't need you to agree, Irene," he scoffed, reminding me that I didn't have a choice and that he called all the shots. "That's just the way it's supposed to be. Think of this as a way of repaying my mother's kindness all those years." Karson got up and walked out of the table. I tried my hardest to understand him. I guess, in a way, his hate was justified. He returned from his Alpha training only to discover he was arranged to be married. He was stripped of the chance to find his mate and he was stuck with someone as useless as myself. His words, his attitude had screamed one thing. 'Know your place, Irene,' and I read the message loud and clear. ************** Our mating ceremony was a long and torturous one for me. The Pack congratulated us endlessly and the smile I plastered on my face should leave a mark by morning. Karson stood stiffly by my side. We were now the new Alpha and Luna of The Nightcrawlers Pride and we were expected to carry out our duties immediately. While no one would say it, I knew that the 'baby making process' was expected as well. We headed to our new room to commence and mark the final activity for the mating ceremony. A day that I had looked forward to all my life. I was nervous and it didn't seem like a good one. I didn't know what to expect but I was already wet, my niples had rolled into tight buds and they tried to gain attention and drill a hole through my outfit. I stepped into the room before him. "I'll be right back," he said and I nodded, closing the door behind me. Immediately, I dashed to the bathroom and took a shower. I couldn't afford this moment to be ruined. I wrapped the towel around my chast and got out of the shower. My heart hammered in my chast. Karson was staring at me with his undivided attention. His gaze dropped lower and I tightened my hand around my towel. The air was thick and in an instant, he was taking long strides towards me. I met him half way and while my hands reached out to touch his face and pull him into a kiss, his hand grabbed my towel and he yanked it off. I gasped in shock but his hands grabbed my brreasts. I was immediately enveloped in the feel of him. I wrapped my hands around his back as he licked and softly nibbled on my hard niples. His rough hands trailed down my body and kicked my legs apart. He slid two fingers into my core and I gasped at the sudden intrusion. "How are you so wet?" He mumbled to himself. I couldn't breathe. His fingers were bigger than mine so they stretched me more than I had ever done to myself. I felt so full and I hadn't even had the real thing yet. He pumped into me hard and fast, soon my legs shook and my eyes were fluttering close. "Karson," I wanted it now. I wanted it right now. I wanted his shaft filling me up and I wanted his bite mark over my neck. "Fvcking hel, Irene!" He cursed and roughly pulled out his fingers. He grabbed my wrist and made me climb the bed, he pressed a hand to my waist and I knew what he wanted. I stayed ass up, face down. I was exposed to him in that position with my legs spread apart. I gripped the sheets beside my head and waited impatiently. The sound of his zipper fuelled my rising hunger and soon I felt something cold and hard poke at my entrance. Suddenly alarmed, I started to rise, "Karson, wait I've never-" He thrust his full length into me and my jaw dropped open. "Fvck! How are you so...tight!" Karson forced those words through his teeth. The sharp pain I felt was overwhelmed by the pleasure that came soon after. I felt him all the way to the back of my throat. My insides were stretched to their limit and when he pulled out and slammed back in, hard and fast, a tear rolled down my cheek. It was more than I had imagined. It was blissful. I could almost see it. The way he pulled back with my juices coating his shaft, inviting him to slam back in and when he did, I could only chew my lip and let out moans of pleasure. Our first night was pure fvcking and nothing else. I gripped the sheets as he grabbed my waist to meet and take his every thrust. I was gasping for breath and his thrusts were faster, shorter and harder. I wondered how it was even possible to move his hiips like that. I could barely catch my breath. If I died today, I would die a happy, wolfless wolf who finally married the man of her dreams. I needed his bite mark. "Karson," I managed to get the words out in between gasps and moans. My or9asm was sudden and instant. My body shook and convulsed as he kept up his thrusts. I squeezed my eyes shut as the electricity rolled through my vibrating core, clenching down hard on him and svcking him in. He grew harder under in an instant and I soon felt something warm in my belly and his shaft pulsed like a heart pumping. My body was spent and I was too weak to open my eyes. He pulled out and I let out a weak moan. I waited for his touch to find me but the only thing I heard were his footsteps and soon, the sound of the door opening and then closing- announcing his departure. Karson had left without leaving his mate bite behind. Chapter 2 IRENE'S POV I threw my head over her legs as I sobbed like a child. Her gentle pat landed on my head, over and over again. "It's going to be alright, Irene," Aunt Teresa said in a soothing voice. I shook my head against her hand. I could hear my heart breaking at his rejection and words of comfort reached nowhere near to piecing my heart together. "I mean it, Irene," Aunt Teresa sighed. She was adamant on making me feel good this morning. After Karson walked out of the room, he was yet to return and I just couldn't stand the terrible feeling that plagued my heart. So here I was in Aunt's room, crying my eyes out. "Don't shed so many tears, Irene. Your eyes will be puffy," she grabbed my face and jerrked my head up. I could barely see her through my blurry vision but her face was in a small pout and her brows were knitted in a frown. Her long black hair was let down and she looked like a goddess. "Look at you," she sighed. "You're so pretty, don't ruin your face, Irene." She wiped my tears with her thumb and pressed her lips to my forehead in a kiss. I closed my eyes as I tried to relax into it but more tears only poured out when I remembered that Karson didn't even kiss me. I 9roaned, throwing my head back as I sobbed even harder. "He didn't- hic- he avoided- hic- I don't know why- hic- but he didn't- hic-" "Stop crying, Irene. I can't make out your words-" "He didn't make out with me!" I cried harder and stopped to swallow the lump in my throat before I continued again. "It's because I'm wolfless and I'm not even his mate! I have nothing- he hates me," "He doesn't hate you," She tried to assure me. "He just doesn't understand-" "Understand what?" I cried. "I don't understand either. Make me understand-" "Irene!" She grabbed my face again and stared into my eyes. "You can't force your destiny. When the time is right, you'll understand. I have faith in you, Irene." I didn't even have faith in myself but her tone was convincing and the way she stared at me with no joke. She wiped my tears again and I didn't have the heart to produce any more. "Trust me, my dear. You're Luna now and I'm sure you'll be more powerful than ever before." I held onto her words and made them my strength but as the days rolled by, my frustration was beyond me that I would lock myself in my room- as Karson never returned- and cried. Our matrimonial bed had become my personal bed. The room we were supposed to share was now my own room. The only time we bumped into each other was during breakfast where we ate in silence or going past his office to mine. The Luna position came with a lot of responsibility and I was still being eased into it. But with Karson's attitude still on my mind, I was always mentally and emotionally stressed by the end of each day. "Luna, is everything alright?" I snapped out of my thoughts at the Beta's voice. Wayne stared at me with a worried look. He had been in my office for a few minutes now but I could hardly recall the issue he had raised. "I'm sorry," I hurriedly apologized and dropped my pen on the desk, giving him my full attention. "I'm fine. You were saying?" He didn't look the least convinced but he had to go on either way. He smiled and the wrinkles around his mouth stretched. He had gotten very old over the years, I guess it was time for him to retire but that was his and Karson's decision to make. "Maybe you should get some rest later,"he suggested and I could only offer him a smile. "I was asking your opinion about weapon storage in the Pack. While we don't have any impending threats, I was thinking it wouldn't be bad to restock and increase our budget." "A few of our warriors with friends from other packs have mentioned the endless amount of weapons over there. I'm afraid they feel ours is lacking behind," he explained. "I understand. But having an endless amount of weapons calls for a higher maintenance budget. If we do that, the tax will increase, the pack members will suffer and all we'll have are weapons while exploiting others," I sighed. "We're building a nation not a military zone. Even during war, we can have enough money and gain the upper hand." "I'm afraid I'll have to decline the request to stock more weapons. Instead, could we cover it by high maintenance of what we already have?" I suggested. Beta Wayne was already nodding with a satisfied smile on his face, "Yes, that could work. You're right. You're a blessing to us, Irene. Our budget is in safe hands. Our Alpha is really lucky to have you by his side." I smiled in response to his words and watched him excuse himself. It was only fair to have brains, in my opinion. After discovering I was wolfless, I trained myself in other ways to help strengthen the Pack and I knew I was successful each time I received praises. Even worse, there was something strange that I had started to notice. Wayne's daughter visited Alpha Karson every day. "Where is the Alpha, Joan?" I asked the maid that served my tea. "He's in his office, Luna," she fidgeted for a while, biting her lip. "With who?" I already knew what she wanted to say. The thought of her answer was already making me squeeze the document I was holding. "Lexie, Luna Irene," she replied in a murmur. I offered her a smile, "Thank you. You can go now." She bowed before rushing out of my office. I leaned back on my seat with a hand over my face and a tired sigh leaving my lips. Her constant visits to the Alpha's study was becoming alarming. They spent every minute together and he rarely had lunch or dinner with me. Her giggles were loud and every time I heard it, I could hear my heart breaking but I would lift my chin and wear a smile. I had loved Karson for years and a little thing like this shouldn't be able to shake me. I shrugged it off my shoulders and tried to concentrate on my duties. I successfully distracted myself till evening but soon came the migraines that were impossible to ignore. I called it a night and started to walk down the hallway. When I approached Karson's door, my heart began to pound. I wondered if he was still in and if he was with her. It was almost 9p.m already and she was supposed to be at home. Besides, I was yet to have dinner and I wondered if he had eaten too. He had successfully avoided me for a whole month, sharing his attention between his work and Lexie. It was strange to think about but I didn't want to ponder on that. Especially when my thoughts would play detective, questioning itself if she was his mate or not. But she wasn't of age yet for him to find out. That was the only thread of hope that I clung onto. "Maybe I could ask if we could have dinner together," I wondered and I slowed down when I got to his door. Karson's scent was faint but it tickled my nose either way, making my niples hard and my core already wet. Being wolfless, I could hardly distinguish between people by their scent nor could I smell everyone but Karson's scent was one I had thought myself to remember. His scent was like wild roses in an open field while Aunt Teresa's scent was warm and sunny. I cherished the little gift I had from having two werewolf parents as Aunt Teresa had told me. We never spoke much about them and I wondered why. All I knew was that they were good people who would do anything for the ones they loved. Sometimes, I wondered if they didn't love me enough to stay alive. Exhaling softly, I held the cold door knob of Karson's office and I pushed it open. "Karson, I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with-" The rest of the words died in my throat. My eyes widened and I heard my own heart shatter. Dizziness washed over me and my knees wobbled but I gripped the door hard to keep standing. Karson had Lexie in his arms in a hug while he backed her against his desk. His mouth was on her neck and the way she held onto him tightly as if she was in slight pain, I could already tell what was going on. The mate bite he had refused to give me, he was bestowing it upon her. He had marked her without even stopping to consider our mating ceremony- Was she... No! I shook my head even as my thoughts already confirmed it. My lips trembled as tears filled my eyes at the realization. Karson was hel bent upon meeting his mate. He hates our arranged marriage because he didn't have the chance to find his destined mate. She was his mate. The sight before my eyes was growing on my pierced heart that continued to shatter even more. The sight burned right into my head that I was sure I could never forget it even if I were to lose my memory today. I would at least remember that the only man I had ever loved, had finally found his mate and I was nothing to him. I stepped away from the door like it would explode at any minute. "You're only my mother's choice," his words before our mating ceremony began to hunt me. My breathing became ragged and I clutched my chast, tugging at the neck of my dress as I found it hard to breathe. I staggered backwards with eyes wide in horror. I turned and ran into my room, slamming the door behind me. I sagged to the floor with my knees hunched up to my chast. My hands shook and so did my shoulders. The tears fell and all I could do was stare into my palm before slowly placing it over my face. Chapter 3 IRENE'S POV The pain I felt was like a deep hollow of nothingness that delved deeper and deeper even when I tried not to think about last night. The image was engraved in my head. I hadn't slept a wink. I sat up in my bed all night with my thoughts all over hel's half acre. My shoulders were slumped and my hair was let loose to drop down, covering the side of my face. There was a knock on my door but I didn't lift my eyes from the sheets. The knock sounded again and it took a while to recover. I lifted my gaze and sighed, drilling a hole into the door. I didn't want any visitors. I simply wished to sit in my bed all day but that couldn't happen. I muttered a weak "come in," and mentally mocked my sorry tone. "Luna?" A maid stepped in and I locked eyes with her. She gasped with her eyes going wide for a brief second before she lowered her eyes. Did I really look that bad in just one night? "B-breakfast has been served and the Alpha's mother has asked me to come fetch you," she stuttered. "I see," I sighed again and started to drag myself out of bed. My knees were weak from holding me up. "Bring out something for me to wear and... Some make-up for my face." "Y-Yes, Luna!" I showered quickly and dressed up fast. When I stared into the mirror, I shook my head at my sorry self. My eye bags were bad and there were dark circles too. I looked like I had been crying all night. The maid helped in applying the pancake and covering it up. I thanked her and rushed for breakfast after practicing my smile in the mirror. I was going to act like there was no weight in my heart and no turbulence in my head. But my smile froze when I got to the table. Lexie was laughing with Aunty and Karson had a smile on his face while he ate- that was something that had never happened. "Oh, Luna," Lexie's voice was high and she sounded elated. "You're here. We've been waiting for you. Breakfast is almost cold." She was a very pretty young woman with bob brown hair, an oblong face, love shaped bow lip and her body figure was very matured. Her b00bs were bigger than mine and so were her legs. This was probably Karson's type. What was she doing here? Why was she here? She had no right to be here- unless... "Lexie, here, joined us for breakfast," Aunt explained. She probably read the confusion on my face. "Sorry, if it's uncomfortable for you," Lexie said and nervously rubbed her hand on her neck. I saw it. She knew I saw it. The band-aid on her neck was no joke. I had lost Karson and she was making that clear. She didn't have breakfast with us every other day. It was just that one time but it sent a clear message to me. My days in his life were numbered. I went down for breakfast with a thudding heart and anxiousness in my womb. Their silence was taking a toll on me. I wondered if it was their plan to drive me mad so they could find an excuse to kick me out but Karson didn't need an excuse to get rid of me. He could do it whenever he wanted since he had found his mate. So why was he holding back? Why were they keeping their affair a secret? My thoughts were ferocious and they showed no mercy. A minute of idleness and I was sinking deep into depression. I picked up more work than usual. An attempt to keep my mind occupied and busy was starting to weigh down on me. I left my office by 2a.m. every day, only to return by 8a.m. I had no complaints whatsoever but after a week, I noticed the workload started to reduce. The usual heap of files I arranged for myself were halved and I was rounding off sooner than I wanted. "Raphael, why is there so little work to do?" I voiced my complaints to the Gamma of the Pack. He was arranging a few files for me to check out and I was already frowning at how little they were. "Shouldn't you be happy?" He asked instead. "You've been working too much of late," he was one of the few who could speak freely to me despite my Luna title. He was a good friend of mine despite still being Karson's Gamma. "I'm not complaining," I told him. "What happened to all the work?" I wanted to sink into work and nothing more. It was my only means of escape at this point. "Well, Alpha Karson shared some of your Luna duties to Lexie-" "What?" I must've misheard. I refused to believe my ears. "What did you just say?" Raphael met my gaze with caution. He was probably debating whether or not to repeat that. In the end, he did. "But, I don't understand... Am I doing something wrong? Did I make a mistake somewhere-" "No, never. Irene, you're perfect. You've been doing everything right from the very beginning," he encouraged, pulling me out from the hands of criticism that my thoughts had wrapped around me. "Then why? I am Luna. Only Luna should handle Luna affairs," I said more to myself, trying to understand the situation and give reasons why it wasn't even making any sense. Raphael glanced away for a moment and my heart sank. "You've been noticing it too, haven't you?" "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you so you wouldn't worry so much," He made an apologetic face. "I simply carried out the order. Maybe you could ask him sometime," he suggested. "Would you like to go for a walk? To clear your mind at least?" This was happening too fast for me to wrap my head around. I swallowed hard as I looked around my office. Since when was there a deputy Luna? What was Karson's aim in all of this? Was he trying to ridicule my position or make me know my place? I nodded and he smiled, turning away immediately. "Would you like ice cream or sandwich along the way-" "R-Raphael?" I called and stepped out from behind my desk. He was already at the door when he turned to face me. " Let's go for a smooke break instead," I needed another form of distraction since Karson had taken this one away from me. "What do you mean?" He asked, sounding suspicious. "I want to smooke too." *** My workload reduced as my deputy Luna took her work seriously. Day by day I did less work but I occupied myself with smooking in my bathroom whenever I could. It was relaxing and it helped me let out some steam. I was in my room by 6pm. that evening, smooking again when I heard a knock on the door. I froze for a moment, looking at the door with furrowed brows. I wasn't expecting anyone. Plus Karson never came here. He had his own room now. "Who is it-" "Irene, dear? Can I come in?" Aunt Teresa's voice had me slamming the ci9arette on the ashtray. I carried it to the bathroom and dumped it in the sink. I rushed out and grabbed my perfumes, spraying the air with my heart beating wildly in my chast. After I sniffed the air and made sure the ci9arette smell was gone, I took a deep breath and opened the door. Her shiny face and warm smile came into view. She stood in a composed manner with her head tipped up. Aunty could never be caught without the aura and grace of a queen. I ushered her in with more enthusiasm than normal and I hoped she wouldn't notice. "You finished your duties a little early. That's good. Why didn't you come over to my room so we could talk?" She wondered, heading to the dropped curtains. "It's quite dark in here," she mumbled to herself and spread the curtain open. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the light. I preferred the dark and gloomy area. It was a perfect place to hide my shame. How could I even look at myself in the mirror and call myself a Luna? I was a sorry excuse for one. "I didn't want to disturb you with my issues," I intertwined my fingers over my legs as I stood by the door with my eyes on the floor of where she was. She turned her body in my direction, "Oh? That's a first. Is something going on?" Something? More than enough was going on and I doubted Aunty even knew half of it. "Not at all," I shook my head. If Karson wouldn't tell her, then I wouldn't dare to mention it. Aunt Teresa was a supportive mother to both Karson and I. I wondered how she would react to Karson finally finding his mate. I wouldn't want to put her at a crossroad. Actually, I think I just couldn't bear the thought of Aunt Teresa picking Lexie over me. It hurt that Karson already did but it would hurt me more and rip my heart out if the only mother figure I've known all my life were to discard me like I meant nothing. "It's your birthday tomorrow," she announced. "Did you forget?" "Oh," a day I had always looked forward to was now insignificant to me. "I guess I did." She sighed, "Perhaps are you working too much, Irene?" I almost scoffed with my vision blurred with tears, "No, that's impossible. I'm not even doing nearly enough." "What do you mean? You work everyday and you're doing good," she defended. "Are you crying again?" I couldn't help it. My chin was trembling as I tried to hold back my tears. It felt as though a dam was about to break. I felt like a worthless piece of crap. Karson couldn't even trust me with Luna duties anymore, he handed them over to that other woman. What was I thinking? I was actually the "other woman" in their relationship. I was an outsider who could never take the place of his mate. Not that I even wanted to try- far from it! I just wanted Karson to acknowledge my love for him and my efforts to make him happy and satisfied. Was that really too much to ask? I was in Aunt Teresa's embrace by the time I recovered myself. She wrapped her arms around me as I tried to control my sobs. "Don't doubt yourself so much, my dear. Everything will be just fine," she reassured and I nodded even though I knew things wouldn't be fine. They would only get worse and worse with each passing day. I made up my mind to confront Karson about what he had done rather than allow myself to wallow and sink further into self pity and doubt. Aunt Teresa left after informing me she would be returning from a short trip tomorrow evening to celebrate my birthday with me. I took a shower and by evening I was heading to Karson's room. My head was throbbing from a dull headache that had become a constant thing every evening for a week now and my temperature was quite high. I made it to Karson's room and after practicing controlled breathing up to five times, I knocked. "Come in," his voice was soft and it made my heart melt. For a second there I wondered if he was expecting someone else. I walked into his room with his scent hitting me first. It's been a while since I stepped into his personal space. The last time I did that, I nearly had a heart attack from what I saw. Karson was seated on his king sized bed with his head turned to a document. He had moved back to his old room. While everything was familiar in here, the one thing that wasn't was this hot man in nothing but his dark blue pants. I almost drooled just by staring at his chast and bulging muscles. When next would I get to touch his body- "I suppose you didn't come here to stare, right?" His voice interrupted my thoughts and gone was the soft tone that I had received outside the door. He was back to his usual self and cold tone especially with the way he gazed at me with no atom of smile on his face. I summon my courage, "Right. I came because I need answers. You handed part of my duties to Lexie and I'd appreciate it if you could tell me why." His brow arched in a silent question, "It's been a week already. Why is it suddenly so important to know?" He was right. I had taken too long to question him. I should've headed into his office the first time I heard the news. "I know. I've only been wondering if there was something I wasn't doing right," I stated while trying to keep a straight face. "So I took the time to look inwards and question myself-" "There's no need for you to do that, Irene," he tilted his head. "You've managed the Packs finances very well while making sure there's adequate supply of everyone's needs." His compliment left me stunned as I never expected it from him. "Then," I took a step closer. "Why is Lexie acting as a deputy Luna? It is unheard of that Luna's duties are given to someone else. Is there something I should know-" "If that'll be all, I'd like to get back to my duties now. As you can see," he lifted the document slightly. "I'm still occupied." I gaped at him in shock. He was openly dismissing my question about Lexie. Was this what it had come to? "It's my birthday tomorrow," I announced with my eyes on the sheets, wondering if he had ever taken Lexie here and did to her what he did with me during the night of our mating ceremony. Was he more pasionate and gentle? Did he hold her after- I let out a harsh breath as there was nothing but silence. He had turned his attention back to his work and it showed that I wasn't needed here anymore. I quietly left his room and I doubted he even noticed that I was gone. I spent the night with a high fever and a headache but by morning after throwing up a few times, I realized what my condition was. I threw out the ci9arettes and got rid of the ash tray. I got naked and stood in front of a mirror. My breests were fuller and my niples had spread and were wider. Karson would've noticed if he had spared me a minute or more of his time for a little visit. I needed to get out of here. This place was no longer my home. It was only a matter of time before Karson would welcome his mate to his side and she would be made Luna as soon as possible. There was nothing left for me here; not in the pack and not even by his side. I did the only thing I could do at this point; the only thing Karson would appreciate and probably love me for someday... I ran. Chapter 4 IRENE'S POV FIVE YEARS LATER "Carl! Karin! Mummy's leaving!" The nanny announced with a loud voice and in less than two seconds, two preschoolers ran out with their chubby cheeks. The boy- Carl- was holding his favorite dinosaur toy with his black hair disheveled on his head. His smile was wide as he ran out and his arms opened wide while Karin- the girl- had her usual frown on her face. She practically glared at everything as she approached. I squatted before the couch as they approached me. I wrapped my arms around them, pulling them into a hug when they got closer. "M-Mummy," Carl stuttered excitedly. When I pulled away and stared into their faces, Karin was wearing a smile. She only ever smiled when she was around me. The nanny was already complaining that she was scared of her. But what could a four year old do to a full grown woman? "Karin, did you pull your brother's hair again?" I arched my brows and she tensed with her smile freezing on her face. Her dark hair was in two ponytails. I wondered how long it had taken Nanny May to successfully do that. She shook her head aggressively and I glanced at Carl who was already playing with his dinosaur. Ignoring our conversation like it was past tense to him. "Are you lying?" I tried again and when she nodded, I covered my face with a smile. "Your honesty is appreciated but you have to stop pulling his hair. You'll turn him into an old man." I could feel my wolf smiling proudly as we stared at the duo who almost never got along. It almost reminded me of the relationship I had with their father. "Anyways!" I said to my pups and to my thoughts but that got their attention anyways. "I'm leaving-" "Where?" Karin's frown was back on her face- she was the bossy one- and Carl looked like he was about to start crying. "N-No no, I'll be back soon, I promise. I have to meet up with the Alpha," I touched their cheeks and brought them closer for a kiss. "Remember, do not shift before anyone except me, okay?" I repeated the only rule we had and they nodded in silence. "Thank you, baby," I kissed their foreheads and spoke loudly this time, "Make sure to listen to Nanny May, okay?" But they were already running away before I could get the words out. I stepped out of the house with a weird feeling in my chast. It always felt this way whenever I had to leave them with anyone even for a second. Especially now that I'd be away for two nights. I trusted the twins not to break the rule but it was concerning to think about. They were only four years old. Since when did four year olds start to shift? Heck! I didn't even get my wolf until after I gave birth. It was a whole new experience for me, especially trying to connect with her. The link between us was like a thin thread but it had gradually advanced over the years. "Ready to go?" I was pulled out of my thoughts at the sound of my Alpha's voice. A bulky man with light brown skin and wild hair. Despite being in his thirties, he didn't look a day over twenty. He still looked so young and agile. Alpha Lucas was leaning over his Jeep and I rushed to him. We got into the car and drove down to where the meeting was supposed to take place. It was the third cross pack meeting our Pack would hold after five years and I was really looking forward to it. I had received his orders to participate and I had already prepared my speech but my stomach still tied itself in a knot due to nervousness. It had been a long time since I was made to handle such responsibility. I knew I was once Luna for The Nightcrawlers Pride and I delivered speeches to the Pack during the time I was there but that was a long time ago. We arrived at the hotel scheduled for the meeting in less than two hours and the hall was already filled with Alpha's of different pack's and their Beta's, talking and catching up while others were getting to know each other. "You look nervous," Alpha Lucas leaned down to whisper close to my ears. I blinked up at him, a bit uncomfortable by his sudden closures and he smiled, taking a step back. "Is it that obvious?" My cheeks were flushed from the idea of everyone reading my body language. I had gained a few of their attention but I lifted my head and avoided their gaze. I knew how Alpha's could get with their ego's. I wouldn't want to step on toes here. "Only to me," he shrugged. "But you look elegant and calm like a Luna," he complimented and I smiled tightly at the use of that title. No one in The Howlers Pack knew of my past. When I ended up here five years ago, I was almost knocked over by his car. He took me in as a rogue who had decided to acknowledge an Alpha and we've not once talked about my past, not even when I found out I was pre9nant. "You say the loveliest things to me, Alpha Lucas," I told him and I really meant it. He was like that guardian angel that kept cheering me on. "You know I would say even lovelier things and do much more for you if you agree to be my mate," he tried again with a daunting smile on his lips. He was a very good looking man who could get away with anything if he smiled. It was sad to know he lost his mate several years ago and he never spoke about her. He was convinced I was his second chance mate and he had been trying, for what three to four years now? I had lost count of how many times he had tried to convince me but each time I repeated the same old lines. "You're talking to a-" "...a brick wall whose heart can never beat again," he rolled his eyes as he finished my lines. "I know, I know. I've heard that before. Sometimes I wish I could find the basstard who dared to break your heart and make him pay." I laughed, placing a hand on his arm. It was funny hearing him say that and also very sweet. He cared deeply about me and I knew I could never repay his kindness in the way he wanted. "Can I see the list of Pack's that'll be attending?" I asked, changing the topic and he went along with it. He handed me a book that had all the twenty lists of Pack names with their Alpha and I scanned them. Eighteen out of twenty had already ticked in while two were left out. "Black Might Pack- Alpha John and Beta Phillip," I mumbled, reading to myself. "And The Nightcrawlers Pride," I froze and stopped breathing. I caught a whiff of something familiar in the air. It sparked memories that I had sought to bury. The scent of wild rose filled my nose and I gulped as I slowly lifted my gaze towards the door. I held the gaze of familiar black eyes that made my heart slowly start beating again before picking up the pace. He occupied the whole room and everyone else disappeared. He scanned the room as he buttoned his black suit that hugged his wide frame. His eyes landed on mine and I felt my heart skip a nervous beat. He was staring and I couldn't bring myself to look away. Could he recognise me? I wasn't the same woman when I left the pack five years ago. I was way different as my body had developed and I had added flesh in all the right places. Still he stared like he knew and I saw recognition flash in his orbs. "Irene, are you okay?" I felt Alpha Lucas place a hand on my shoulder with his tone filled with worry and just like that, Karson's brows furrowed in a deep frown as his eyes darted back and forth in an angry and suspicious stare between me and my new Alpha.	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14374&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	867	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	befant.com	DCO		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14374&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461262119_567752125679105_1113191889968315431_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=70FMHyGKoIIQ7kNvgERVYco&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A53oq0VlggduTf3dGfiA62F&oh=00_AYBbTn1Wk8UY7etG-y1zJfBtp8HEjfCTzYkxbuwKq20AAA&oe=67613B74	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,644,913	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	After six years, Stella Richard finally came back this familiar city. She walked out of the airport and hailed a taxi. When the taxi moved, all the memories she had tried to forget over the years began to flood her mind... Stella shook her head, chasing those thoughts away. This time, she hadn’t come back to dwell on old, useless memories. She was back because her boss had asked her to return. He told her that their company was at a dead end, and he wanted her to come back and solve the crisis. At first, Stella didn’t want to come, but after some thought, she decided to return... Six years ago, her boss had helped her during the most difficult time of her life, and she wanted to repay the favor... As for everything else, she no longer cared... At the Company... As Stella arrived, she noticed that most of the employees were engaged in a lively discussion. As she walked by, snippets of conversation reached her ears. "I heard that there are so many companies who want to buy our company." "Really! That means we’ll have a new boss." "I just hope that our new boss should be good-looking, like a Korean drama CEO." "Hey! Do you know who’s going to buy the company?" Stella heard their chatter but didn’t care about the gossip. She knew these people didn’t actually care about who would buy the company or for what price. They just wanted to gossip. But she... She cared... and she was here to secure a good deal for her company. "Of course, it’ll be Kingston’s, the RK Group. Who else in the city is powerful enough to challenge them?" Stella, who had been about to continue walking, stopped in her tracks. A name, both familiar and unfamiliar, reached her ears. "The Kingstons..." "RK Group..." Suddenly, memories Stella had locked away began to surge like a storm. Her mind was filled with those memories like a flood. Stella felt dizzy. It was as if she were still trapped in that RK mansion, surrounded by cold walls. Stella had thought she had long forgotten about him, but it seemed that it was just her illusion. [Flashback] Six Years Ago... In the RK Mansion... Stella walked out of the gate inside the living room. But her expression was somber. She moved as if in a daze. "Madam, what happened to you? Why do you look so pale and weak?" The one who spoke was Mia. She was working for Kingston's for years and always treated Stella like her daughter. Seeing her pale face and weak demeanor, Mia was worried. "Mia... Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just..." Stella glanced at the reports in her hand and said, "I haven’t had my period for two months, and when I went to the hospital..." She didn’t finish her sentence, looking at Mia with a mix of expectation and worry. They just stared at each other. Mia understood what Stella wanted to say. She was pregnant. But Mia also knew about the relationship between Mr. RK and Stella. She didn’t know what to say. In the end, she just congratulated her. Stella didn’t say anything and kept staring at the reports in her hand. She had been married to Rene Kingston for three years. But theirs was not a marriage of love... It was a contract marriage, with a three-year time limit. Because the woman he loved was her sister. RK had been about to marry her sister, Sophia, but for some reason, Stella had ended up replacing her sister. From the day they married, he had told her that their marriage was just a three-year contract and nothing more. For RK, their marriage was indeed just a contract, but for Stella, it was a beautiful gift from God. Because only she knew how happy she was when she found out she was going to marry RK. The man she had loved throughout her youth. All these years, Stella had given her best in this marriage, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their marriage would work out. Maybe he wouldn’t divorce her. Maybe he would want to stay with her... Maybe he would give their relationship a chance because of the child... Stella was still lost in thought when suddenly, a voice came from the door, shattering all her hopes and illusions. "I don’t want this child." The voice was cold and hard. Stella and Mia both turned to look in the direction of the voice. RK was standing at the door, staring at Stella. His face was cold and expressionless. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He had a very handsome face and blue eyes. His blue eyes were like the deep ocean. If you looked into them. Then you would be drowned in it. Chapter 2 RK walked in and stood in front of Stella. He appeared like a king, towering above the world and looking down upon everyone as if they were nothing. With his tall frame and commanding aura, he exuded an undeniable power. Stella sat on the sofa, overwhelmed by his presence. She remained seated, staring at him, shocked by his words. She never expected this man to be so cold-blooded, uttering such harsh words without a second thought. There was no hesitation in his voice when he said he didn’t want the child. Stella looked into his eyes, trying her best to remain calm and hold back her tears. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of this cold man. The two of them just stared at each other in silence. After a while, RK walked over and sat opposite Stella. As he sat down, his assistant, Alex Triston, placed a stack of papers on the table. At the top of the papers were the words "Contract Expired." Alex looked at Stella and said, "Miss Richard, according to your contract with Mr. RK, three years have now been completed. Please sign here and finalize the process." Stella noted the change in how Alex addressed her—from Mrs. RK to Miss Richard. Even though she still hadn't signed her name. A mocking smile appeared on her face. She was sure that Alex wouldn’t have dared to take her so lightly, if it hadn’t been ordered by someone, of course, and that someone was none other than her husband. RK took the pen and signed his name without a pause or thought. After finishing, he looked at Stella and said, "You can stay here for a week and look for the house." Stella looked into the man's eyes which are calm as a lake. There was no regret, sadness, or hesitation—nothing. It was as if he felt nothing about their relationship, which had suddenly gone through such a big change. But as this thought crossed her mind, she scolded herself. "Stella, are you a fool? How can you expect any regret or sadness from this stone-hearted man?" But still, she couldn’t control her emotions. Because she had loved this stone-heated man for so many years. Stella didn’t say anything and just looked at the man with whom she had spent the past three years. She had seen his face every day, yet now, as she looked at him, she still found him strikingly handsome. But... he was also the man who had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. She didn’t want to show her vulnerability in front of him, so she tried her best not to cry. Her hand trembled as she held the pen. She looked at the papers, saw his elegant and strong handwriting, and signed her name. Just like her heart, her handwriting was also broken. Stella was shattered inside, but she didn't show this on her face. After she signed her name, she took a deep breath and said, "I am very grateful to Mr. Kingston that he allowed me to stay here for a week, but after our contract expires I don't think I should stay here. I will leave immediately." After speaking, Stella glanced at Mia and asked, "Mia, can you help me pack my things?" Mia looked at Stella's face and saw how hard she trying not to cry and her heartache. She didn't want to do this, but she had to do it. Stella went upstairs to pack her belongings, while RK watched her retreating figure, his emotions unreadable. Stella looked around the room where she had lived for three years, her eyes turned blurred... She can't hold back her tears. She knew their marriage would end someday, but she hadn’t anticipated such intense pain in her heart. Stella didn’t have many things to pack. She just packed her belongings but left everything RK had bought untouched— not even a single piece of clothing. Mia watched her in silence, unsure of what to say. Stella wiped away her tears and said, "Mia, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s just that I’m not his Mrs. Right." With that, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Downstairs... RK was still sitting on the sofa, watching Stella. But Stella didn't want to look at him and was ready to leave... "Where are you going?" Suddenly, his cold voice cut through the silence. Stella paused and turned to look at him. She hadn’t been on good terms with her family from the beginning, and after her marriage, it had been nearly impossible to maintain any connection with them. As for him, they were now divorced, so she felt no reason or obligation to tell him where she was going. "I don’t think my whereabouts has anything to do with Mr. Kingston. We’re already divorced and have nothing to do with each other. Mr. Kingston must be focused on his future wife, not on his ex-wife..." Stella's tone was cold and it was like she was throwing daggers from her mouth. She couldn’t comprehend his hypocritical behavior. She wondered if it was her imagination or not, but it felt as though, after mentioning his future wife, the temperature in the room had dropped a lot. She felt a chill spread through her body and decided to leave. "Wait a second." His voice was firm and allowed no rebuttal. Chapter 3 Stella heard his voice and stopped. There was a little bit of hope in her heart. The man's eyes were dark and cold, filled with mysterious thoughts, and a layer of fog surrounded him. Suddenly, he spoke, "I don't want this child. Don't forget to take it out." RK looked at the woman in front of him and thought. She seemed like a pure and beautiful woman, and he didn't want her to carry his burden. Stella's hand, which was holding her luggage, trembled, and the little bit of hope in her heart vanished. She felt like someone had stabbed a knife into her heart. He had broken her heart so many times, but... she didn’t know why she still felt hurt every time it happened. "Boooom." His words exploded in her head like a bomb, and the little bit of hope she had left in her heart was also gone. The hands holding the bag tightened. She felt like someone had stabbed her heart, and she could smell the blood. Suddenly, she laughed at herself. She felt like a fool. How could she expect anything from a man who was so cold toward his child? "If you don't want this child, then why did you sleep with me?" She wanted to yell at him, but in the end, she didn’t say anything. He had once told her that he liked children, which was why she hadn’t taken the pills. But... It was as if he liked children but not with her. Stella's heart was in so much pain, but she didn’t want to let him see her tears. She didn’t turn around, keeping her back facing him. Stella took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Kingston, don’t think too much. I also don’t want this child at all. I have already decided to get rid off it." She was about to leave but then stopped and said, "One more thing, I hope we don’t see each other again in this life." After she said, Stella didn’t stop for a minute and left. At first, she didn’t want to leave this place, but now... She felt suffocated. Stella held her bag tightly and left without looking back. RK watched the woman’s back, struggling to keep herself straight and not stumble. His eyes were dark and filled with unreadable emotions. Only after her figure disappeared from his sight did his tense back relax. [Flashback end] "I am sorry, I didn’t see you..." Suddenly, a man bumped into Stella, who was standing in the hallway. Files fell to the ground. But because of this she also came back from the memories from six years ago. "No, I am sorry," she said, helping him pick up the files before going into the elevator. As the elevator door opened, Jack Paul stood outside and greeted her. Jack Paul looked at Stella with a smile and said, "Stella, here you are. How are you? You are new here. If you need anything, please feel free to tell me." Stella looked at him and nodded. "I am fine, thank you." As they talked, they went to his office and sat down. Jack looked at Stella and said, "Stella, I am very happy that you accepted my offer and came back." As he spoke, he handed her a red file and continued, "I am sure you have heard that our company is going to be acquired by someone. This file contains the reports I made; take a look." Stella took the file and nodded. Jack continued, "Many companies want to buy our company, but among all of them, RK Groups is the best. However, the price offered by Mr. RK was too low." He paused and said, "This time, I ask you to come back so that you can turn the situation around." "RK Groups... Rene Kingston..." Stella's hands holding the file trembled. The memories she had locked away deep down in her heart suddenly resurfaced. Stella calmed herself and said, "I will do my best." "That’s good," Jack laughed and said. "Now that you have taken on this project, I am not worried anymore." Chapter 4 The next day, at a coffee shop... Stella had already organized all the documents and asked the negotiation director of the RK Group to meet her at the coffee shop. As she was waiting, a man wearing a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses came over. But when he walked over and saw Stella, he looked shocked. Stella also looked at the person in front of her and was shocked, too. Because the one standing in front of her was RK's assistant, Alex Triston. For a moment, both of them stayed quiet. It was Stella who took the initiative and said, "Long time no see." Alex heard her words and quickly regained his composure. He nodded and sat down. Stella didn’t waste much time and went straight to the point. "Mr. Triston, here are the documents. If you find them satisfactory, please sign them." As she spoke, she pushed the documents in front of him. Alex looked at the eye-catching price of 70 million and was shocked. "Miss Richard, the RK Group can only offer 40 million. The price your company is asking for is very high." Stella didn’t want to sign this contract from the beginning. She would never let that man become her boss. She felt like she was wasting her time on the RK Group and should find another company. "It's alright, but we can't sign this contract." She said, packing her things and deciding to leave. Alex saw that she was about to leave and that she wasn’t interested in this deal, and he panicked. He rushed over and stopped her. "Miss Richard, please wait. Let me call and ask about the price again." Stella stopped and nodded. "Of course." Alex stepped to the side and made a call. ** At the RK Group's CEO office... RK was sitting in the head chair, listening to a report from the marketing department, when his phone rang. RK glanced at the phone and hung up. He didn’t like being disturbed at work. But after a few seconds, it rang again. The people standing in the office saw his cold expression and trembled. They felt like the person on the other side was about to die. RK's face didn’t look good, and the people reporting to him felt a chill down their spines. RK picked up the phone and asked, "What is it?" His voice was cold. Alex reported the situation on the other side. "Tell them it’s not going to happen. 70 million is too much; they’re not worth it." After he finished speaking, he was about to hang up. But Alex said something that made him pause for a while. His fingers tapped on the table, and after a minute, he replied, "Okay, then let's agree to 70 million." After that, he paused for a moment and added, "Tell her I’m coming to the company, and ask her to personally explain to me how it’s worth 70 million." After he spoke, he hung up the phone. There were some unknown emotions in his deep blue eyes. The people from the marketing department heard his words and were shocked. "The CEO is going to personally sign the contract." "Is that negotiation really worth his visit?" Moreover, they knew that in this negotiation, Mr. Kingston didn’t need to be personally involved. All of them had question marks on their faces. Alex wasn’t too far away, so Stella could hear parts of his conversation. She heard Alex directly reporting her name to the person on the other side of the phone. Within just three minutes... "Miss Richard, wait! Mr. Kingston said that they have no problem with your price. The agreement must be set according to your company’s plan. Let's quickly sign the deal so that no one can back out." After he finished speaking, he took out the documents, signed his name, and handed the pen to Stella. Looking at his arrogant attitude, as if he had already bought her company, Stella was a little shocked. She stared at the pen in a daze. She hadn’t expected the agreement between the two companies to go so smoothly and effortlessly. Stella felt like she had made her stand clear by not lowering her price and being firm in her decision. But who would have thought that RK would be even more determined than she was in the acquisition of the company? He even agreed to sign the contract at her price. "Didn’t he pride himself on never changing his decisions, no matter what? Then why did he change this one?" she thought. "Was it because, after living with the love of his life, he changed?" But no matter what. Now, what could she do? Stella took the pen and signed her name. She didn’t care about him anymore. Anyway, she wasn’t going to stay here. Usually, she didn’t want him to become her boss, but what could she do? She needed to finish this job and leave quickly. Alex put the documents back, shook hands with her, and said, "Miss Richard, from now on, we’re colleagues in the same company. Please take care of us in the future!" Stella just gave him a forced smile. Only she and God knew how much she didn’t want this man to be her boss. Alex looked at her and added, "Miss Richard, please go back to the company quickly. Mr. Kingston will be there in a while. He said he wants you to... personally explain how your company is worth 70 million." Alex also didn’t know why his boss wanted Miss Richard to do it personally, after what happened between them before. But as an assistant, he could only do as he was told. *** On the way back to the company... Stella was sitting in the car, but her mind was filled with thoughts of how RK would soon become her boss. "Ahhh! Stella, you’re the best. You just signed the contract as soon as you showed up!" The one who speak was the assistant to the director of the company. "Stella, you don’t know, but before you came, Mr. Paul sent many people to negotiate with Mr. Kingston, but he only kept lowering the price." She hugged Stella and said happily, "Stella, you’re our lucky star." Stella just lowered her head and didn’t speak. Because it wasn’t what she wanted. Lily continued, "Stella, you just came back, so you probably don’t know much about the city, right?" As she spoke, she leaned closer to Stella’s ear and whispered, "Let me tell you, Mr. Kingston is the most handsome man in X City. He’s not only handsome but also rich and capable. He’s the dream man of many women in the world." Stella heard her words and felt speechless. "I heard that he had a fiancée before, but he already left her, six years ago," Lily said. "He didn’t marry her sister?" Stella couldn’t believe they hadn’t married yet. Didn’t he give her a divorce because he wanted to marry her sister? She thought that by now, they must be married, have children, and be living happily together. "Stella, here you are." When Jack heard that Stella had reached an agreement with RK Groups, he personally came to welcome her with a big smile on his face. "Stella, you didn’t disappoint me. Quickly, go to the meeting room and sit for a while. Mr. Kingston will be here soon, and you will come with me to welcome him."	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14478&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	867	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14478&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461700748_896829415136386_2800863049063417918_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=O_itljO3bpMQ7kNvgGUXcQl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A53oq0VlggduTf3dGfiA62F&oh=00_AYCq3xNIS3G_C0Oeks3gQHYPN63YjuQxm0wylBrNjczDHQ&oe=67616446	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,644,652	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644650}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	Let's Talk About Your Kitchen!	Let's Talk About Your Kitchen!	GET_QUOTE	http://fb.me/	VooltPro Certified Provider	https://www.facebook.com/vooltprocertifiedproviders/	23	1969-12-31 18:00	Get Quote	fb.me	CAROUSEL	Let's Talk About Your Kitchen!	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469934895_3884178051897400_1584996529661654327_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oNfZ0Mlhl1EQ7kNvgFcSLy9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AL6wyRTBpzJZn4g0y_Ux0su&oh=00_AYCXTCb6lFP41g4rPh5MgxniSn393Du1EjhnXxhq9--u0g&oe=67613A88	PERSON_PROFILE	VooltPro Certified Provider	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,644,700	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2644698}'	Yes	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	See If You Qualify	Roundup weedkiller has been linked to Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. If you or someone you know used Roundup and was later diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, you could be eligible to receive significant compensation as part of a settlement. Click to learn more and see if you qualify.	LEARN_MORE	https://contact.consumersafe.com/roundup/	ConsumerSafe.com	https://www.facebook.com/consumersafedotcom/	2,509	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	contact.consumersafe.com	DCO	They set aside $4.5 billion...	https://contact.consumersafe.com/roundup/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/431615458_770690081512177_3495676478623739503_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZaJq7Yb5XaEQ7kNvgFhw_yR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ApgsRn7-v2kC_NPtHEzFCrs&oh=00_AYCkGzDYc273XcujOBzksMkCFV_guak-DYAyPwx_KERnSw&oe=67613985	PERSON_PROFILE	ConsumerSafe.com	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,645,166	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2645158}'	No	2024-12-12 18:30	active	1996	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449519236_1046539403757177_3822833957968181908_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=SOJrvrHfehkQ7kNvgGJTMij&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXizsN_bN17gsHxRWypjSYD&oh=00_AYCoQJn6VFnSlZO5lG2WKKbKcrtsZVDyattDuEtL78_zFw&oe=676152A6	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,646,464	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2645421}'	Yes	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997	Read more FREE chapters👉	It’s not the first time I received photos of my husband, Owen, cheating on me. After losing my parents, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I grew up with him. We were inexplicably attracted to each other but we dared not to admit it. Until that one crazy night... anyway we got married when we were both 22. Now, it’s been three years. But Owen had been acting very strange recently. These photos seemed to explain why... I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. Owen was on the phone with his friend. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” Owen’s words gave me icy chills. “How could he say that?!” My heart was broken. Owen left without any explanation that night. When Owen came back he was very drunk. He started kissing me and called me Josie. I couldn’t believe what I heard… “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. Life passed, I became more and more painful. I finally got divorced with Owen. I thought there would be no relationship between us. But the appearance of Raymond gave me fresh hope for love. Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, handsome and rich. He was one of the most attractive men I knew. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back 10 years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. I couldn’t believe such a wonderful man would confess to me. I didn’t know why he would fall in love with such an ordinary woman like me? He’s always there when I was in danger and even got injured when protecting me. But I can not accept him as his relationship with my ex-husband. Then the unexpected thing happened. My best friend set me up. When I woke up, I found myself under Raymond's sheet. “Don’t be scared, Noah.” “I’ll protect you.” “I’m willing to take responsibility.” “Noah, I love you.” His magnetic voice always lingered in my ears. Could I trust him? What will happen if I get involved in this forbidden relationship?	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	321	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&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-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463600279_1053409966435668_5063960042783931742_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1y5nR64Xi04Q7kNvgFdyiGL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AyEDTKDATlWCYv857cGo0qq&oh=00_AYBdHEzyHx5AvQYlq0jE9P00HWV1mD0h043LPI91fZ6Mjw&oe=6761679E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,647,085	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2647875}'	Yes	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997		The taller the ceilings, the more room for CHRISTMAS CHEER 🎄 🎉 We still have a handful of 12-20’ pre-cut Canaan Fir! Just like the 16’ beauty pictured here, Canaan Fir have that classic cone shape with long, strong branches perfect for hanging big ornaments and garland! 💪 Take one of these green giants home 10am-5pm weekdays or 9am-5pm this weekend!			Timbuk Farms	https://www.facebook.com/TimbukFarms/	13,781	1969-12-31 18:00			IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-atl3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469832974_2014006382380466_5998278062925279026_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=65S_G9k5GA0Q7kNvgFRD_B0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdtmK6QdMECSTV7TyeL0m4o&oh=00_AYCI0G3JckPNZMGPdRKPppYmwhfFF62uLgLnRBS1ydt7AA&oe=67616B8B	PERSON_PROFILE	Timbuk Farms	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,646,282	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2646276}'	Yes	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,” a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,” a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.” The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.” What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe it—I called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for you—the CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. He’s taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "It’s strange how different men can be—one boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didn’t ease in the slightest. Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." … Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumed—she wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasn’t too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room table—a divorce agreement! Dylan’s gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylan’s brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. “Suzy, I’m curious to see what game you’re playing this time.” His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes—a feeling he might not have even noticed himself. “What is it?” On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, “Sir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!” His brow tightened immediately. “I’m on my way!” At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, “Mr. Wright, it’s highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospital…” Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allen’s worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylan’s cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didn’t wouldn’t have flinched even if they saw her hanging—they’d think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasn’t at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzy’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allen’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. I’ll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadn’t she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didn’t dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didn’t want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allen’s anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "He’s dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that I’ll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didn’t find her?" “There isn’t a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,” Desmond said hesitantly, then added, “As for Mrs. Wright, she’s an orphan with no family. Everything she’s done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up… so we haven’t been able to locate her either.” "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadn’t noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.” "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "She’s renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now she’s reappeared. “I've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin family’s estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... “Sorry…” The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at him—it was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy… “Mr. Wright, we’re so honored by your presence. I’m sorry for not greeting you properly…” The voice of the Goodwin family’s butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her face—was she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadn’t left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, “Wait a sec—" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certain—this woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasn’t bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadn’t apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skills—he was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasn’t hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red Falcon…" She wasn’t just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasn’t good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falcon—leave no detail out." He had to find out what he’d done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. We’ve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." … "Boss, someone’s digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. They’ve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. I’m having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Let’s go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one word— LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Their boss’ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylan’s darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably don’t know it’s you, so I’m sure they didn’t mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anne’s poisoning—everything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylan’s eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. … Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allen’s phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzy’s hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldn’t swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctor’s help. We’re willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylan’s relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadn’t been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylan’s grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, I’ll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I don’t treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.” Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzy’s expression, he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzy’s message to Dylan. Dylan’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped her—she wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them I’ll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Grace’s favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated — first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more — as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, he’d pay any price. He owed Anne too much. … Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed… It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldn’t help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldn’t! He’d wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million — since he was foolish and rich, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anne’s hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasn’t Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anne’s condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be… Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anne’s awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. “I am Dylan’s most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive you…” “Slap!” After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you don’t want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasn’t here to murder her. Anne’s fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, “Someone is trying to murder…” Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. “I didn’t want to murder you…” Suzy’s fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. “But since you seem tired of living, I’ll grant your wish!” This wasn’t just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylan’s favorite. Now... She didn’t care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadn’t been for her protection, Anne wouldn’t have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anne’s life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzy’s gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred million—there was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylan’s eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, “Sir, there’s no one here.” “Call the doctor.” Dylan’s gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." “Yes, sir!” After the doctor’s examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attacker’s identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anne’s eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, there’s something I’ve hesitated to say, but she’s really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzy’s name, and Anne couldn’t let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "I’m already half-dead from the poison—why won’t she leave me alone? Does she think I’m not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didn’t respond directly. He simply said, "We’ve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.” Anne’s eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.” “There’s always someone better who can treat you. We’ve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. You’ll be cured soon.” “Red Falcon?” Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. “Is she really that skilled?” “Yes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.” Dylan’s voice softened. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” For Anne, it was always “I’ll handle everything…” For Suzy, it was always “This doesn’t concern me…” Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a trace—so swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. “Boss, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Suzy kept walking without stopping. “Stop worrying about nothing.” However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldn’t be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldn’t allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadn’t fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Boss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?” Suzy paused briefly. “It’s Scarlet Veil.” “Screech…” The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. “Scarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didn’t you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?” “There’s one last dose… with the Harlow family.” “Claude Harlow?” Allen’s eyes widened. “What kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again… she’ll be no better than a dog in heat…” Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, she’d rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasn’t about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldn’t swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her family—she wasn’t going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the deal’s off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. … In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylan’s face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falcon—first she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didn’t she know just how bad Dylan’s temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answered—otherwise, his phone would’ve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasn’t worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. “I’m looking for Red Falcon,” Dylan said bluntly. “She’s not available. If there’s something you need, you can tell me, and I’ll pass it along.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “The price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?” “Please, Mr. Wright, stay calm. It’s true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think we’d walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didn’t have a reason to?” “What’s the reason?” “That’s not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.” Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second… Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. “Find her!” Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, “Easier said than done.” Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. “Dylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.” Anne sneered. “He keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems she’s all talk. She must’ve realized she couldn’t actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.” “If she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.” “So, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!” Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didn’t matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylan’s wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? You’ll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.” “Thanks for the good wishes. Once I’ve secured Dylan, there’ll be plenty of rewards for you.” … The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claude’s whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. “Claude’s on a business trip to Montara.” “Book a flight.” The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since she’d been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldn’t believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claude’s hotel, only to be told, “Mr. Claude checked out early this morning.” Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. “Over here…” Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, “Another unlucky day.” It wasn’t that she feared him; she just didn’t want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didn’t want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. “Are you sure she was on this flight?” Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, “I’ve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.” Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzy’s disappearance, Red Falcon’s cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anne’s hospital room only to escape under full lockdown—those three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "I’ve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylan’s voice turned icy. “Where is she?” Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldn’t understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. “Desmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,” Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something… In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzy’s striking beauty. The fact that he’d even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "I’ve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasn’t discouraged. She moved closer again. "Don’t be shy. We’re both adults here. What’s there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allen’s car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, I just found out... Dylan wasn’t looking for Red Falcon. He’s been trying to find his missing wife…” "Yeah, that’s me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...You’re married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allen’s tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. She’s just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allen’s life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anne’s mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheep’s clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip — and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadn’t been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldn’t even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now — someone William wouldn’t recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didn’t want to delve deeper into the subject, she didn’t push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that there’s never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servants—a total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, they’ll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didn’t get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "We’ll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. She’d head home for some rest first. Besides, Anne’s second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. … That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was time—the second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasn’t Dylan who answered—it was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. What’s the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether it’s me or my grandmother, we’ve both accepted his wife as family. You’d better stay far away from him." Anne wasn’t fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably don’t know that they’re divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. There’s no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasn’t been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylan’s face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell me—is Suzy divorcing you or not?" "That’s none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandma’s life! If it weren’t for her, we’d both be orphans by now. You can’t be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "I’m calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldn’t figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadn’t launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anne’s number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anne’s pained voice came through. "What’s wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like I’m dying. Please come and save me!" "Don’t panic. I’m on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." “Where does it hurt?” Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skin—itching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. “I’ll call the doctor.” “No, I don’t want a doctor. I want you.” Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. “Please, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like I’m dying. If you don’t help me, I really will die...” As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. “Anne, calm down...” “I can’t calm down...” She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, “Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...” Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadn’t said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anne’s eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. “Mr. Dylan, do you hate me?” Dylan didn’t respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. “I’m calling a doctor.” Anne wasn’t about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. “I told you, I don’t want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...” “Anne, something is clearly wrong with you,” Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You need to see a doctor.” “No doctor can help me. Only you can save me.” As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. “Please, save me. I’m begging you.” Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasn’t about helping Dylan—it was simply that she couldn’t bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didn’t expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldn’t quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. “Is this related to the poison in her system?” After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. “Yes, you’re right. The poison in Miss Anne’s body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, it’s suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.” Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her down—she hadn’t even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, “For now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.” “That’s going to be difficult...” the doctor began. “This poison is something I’ve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. I’m concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...” The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, “At this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.” “Absolutely not!” Dylan didn’t hesitate. “If it comes to that, we’ll use sedatives.” “But that might not be safe either…” “At least that way, she’ll maintain her dignity,” Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. “I can’t let her lose her honor.” So, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t touch her—he just didn’t want her to be ridiculed. Suzy’s mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadn’t said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didn’t want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylan’s phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought she’d made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. I’m allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasn’t worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agent—not to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadn’t gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldn’t give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The wind’s pretty strong tonight—careful you don’t bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasn’t easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	867	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&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-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463603676_1575537693071797_6068888192638989593_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=fVh1lKOM_AUQ7kNvgFcRGwS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A2rcwyOfUCFBDsr0XS-9qGA&oh=00_AYDFpTBQ0LxIRydIKPfzXKaZJquYXZdFRlLaVrFdBiWC_A&oe=67615BCA	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,646,788	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"is_bh_simple_request":false,"simple_request_ratio":1,"is_bh_selenium":false,"selenium_ratio":1,"ratio_threshold":0.8}'	No	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997	Vuelve conmigo, amor mío	En medio de la ruina económica de su familia, ella renunció a su preciado violín y se convirtió en la dócil mascota de su esposo, solo para encontrarse con el desprecio de este. Afortunadamente, ella por fin despertó, se divorció con valentía y reinició su carrera musical, alcanzando un gran éxito y provocando el remordimiento de su ex. ===== Joelle Miller examinó minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atención cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenía una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. Había descubierto que, en los días importantes, Nochebuena, San Valentín e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se había ausentado de todos esos días durante los últimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron más que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "¿Lo ven? Él siempre guarda para mí la parte más jugosa de una sandía". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "¡Y miren esta sorpresa! Recogió de la iglesia un amuleto de bendición para mí". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la única cuenta a la que Joelle seguía. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abrió. En la habitación poco iluminada apareció Adrian. Gotas de agua caían de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminación, sus atractivos rasgos permanecían intactos. Joelle cerró instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que lo vio. Esa noche él no estaba ahí por decisión propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como quería un bisnieto con desesperación, lo obligó a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabían que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirá si quedas earazada o no", declaró Adrian con una voz resonante. ¿Qué quería decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarró del tobillo y la atrajo hacia él. Joelle palideció ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensó de miedo. "¡Adrian! Basta, no quiero...". Empezó a luchar frenéticamente. Era una completa humillación verse obligada a vivir en esa situación con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, así que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguántalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lágrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneció a medida que la desesperación se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difícil es mucho más interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentó con rencor. Después de ducharse, se marchó sin mirar atrás, como si no quisiera quedarse más tiempo ahí. Joelle no entendía qué papel tenía en su vida. ¿Solo era un juguete para su placer? ¿O una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gélido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropó más con su manta. No solo temblaba de frío, sino que sentía su corazón desgarrado, ahora no conocía en absoluto al hombre que había adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrás, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebió demasiado. Cuando se despertó, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podía revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomó las riendas y organizó su matrimonio. Desde entonces, él estaba convencido de que Joelle lo había hecho a propósito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por más que creyera que lo había dgado. Después de todo, habían crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendía todo. Para él, ella no era más que la nefasta mujer que había saboteado su relación con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que él se veía en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostraría esa misma ternura. No pudo contener más las lágrimas y sucumbió a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos términos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantó inusualmente temprano. Después de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajó las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada doméstica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rápidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocía sus preferencias dietéticas. Joelle se tomó su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, ¿por qué anoche no convenció a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentó Leah con simpatía. Había sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que había visto cómo los dos se convertían de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostró incómoda, pero lo ocultó con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intenté, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, él tenía el corazón en otra parte. Más concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudó y agregó con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller está muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrás, le habían reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, así que entendía los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatía hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lágrimas debido a la tensión emocional. Sí, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenía tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia Redención en busca de un amuleto de bendición para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompió el silencio. Cuando Leah salió del comedor, Joelle agarró el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesó con voz ronca. Capítulo 2 En declive Joelle había tomado una decisión: quería el divorcio. No tenía sentido seguir alargándolo. Tras un silencio atónito, Katherine soltó una estridente carcajada. "¿Te quedarás con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ¡Oh, por Dios! ¡Joelle, te convertirás en una multimillonaria!". "No, no será así". Joelle había firmado un acuerdo cuando se casó con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibiría nada. "Entonces, ¿por qué te estás divorciando? ¡Tienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordó la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, así como la humillación posterior. Había sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por él la ayudaría a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabía que había sido una completa tonta. ¿El sufrimiento hacía que Adrian la amara más? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le haría sufrir. Joelle se rio de sí misma y cambió de tema: "Por cierto, ¿recuerdas el favor que te pedí?". "Sí, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violín, aunque debo decir que será un desperdicio de tu talento". "Está bien", respondió Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No será un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "¿Cómo que no será un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio…". Katherine se quedó en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. Después de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridículo. Hacía tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibían tocar en público. El primer día de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerá en todo lo que necesites. Tu único trabajo es tener bebés y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminó su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subió las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violín abandonado. Había sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco después de recibirlo, este sufrió un derrame cerebral y cayó en coma. Su hermano mayor terminó asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, así que la dejó perseguir su sueño de tocar el violín. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle movió el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrás, un accidente le había lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no había vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentía en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confió en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltó una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchó la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "¡Señor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavía se preocupaba por Joelle. Quizás si ella le decía algo amable, su relación podría mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venía a casa durante el día. Apenas había dejado el violín cuando se abrió la puerta. Ahí estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle había aprendido a tocar el violín cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la había elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razón, había dejado de tocar. Hacía un momento, la había escuchado desde afuera y le pareció una interpretación mediocre. ¿Cómo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo miró y bajó la cabeza para volver a guardar el violín en su estuche. "¿Qué te trae por aquí?", murmuró. "¿Necesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondió él fríamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el día. De no ser por esa obligación, Adrian no habría regresado. Irene se enfadaría si no iban juntos. Joelle sonrió con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplía. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podía encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tú tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondió. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezó a hervir dentro de él. Sin decir nada más, se dirigió al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque él no solía estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenía la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah también podía hacer. Su única ventaja, tal vez, era ser más joven y más guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. Tenía el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesó el corazón. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declaró con una voz tan suave como la brisa. Había agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintió extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la miró con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson está en declive. Sin mi apoyo, ¿vas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caída de la familia Watson, Joelle pasó de ser amada a quedar en ridículo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podían librarse. Incluso sus momentos íntimos con Adrian la hacían sentir degradada. Joelle se mordió el labio y se enderezó. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mío". Solo quería que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habían dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "¿Y de dónde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querías ser independiente, no deberías haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontró entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. Sí, había utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, ¿lo que era suyo no era también de él? Además, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les había dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendía a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre había despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con él era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejaría de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ¿Estaba sugiriendo que ella debía salir del matrimonio con las manos vacías? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legítimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mío. Pero no te preocupes, no pediré mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedó paralizado y su mirada se agudizó. Sus labios formaron una fina línea mientras apretaba la mandíbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se había preparado mentalmente, no podía soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponía más ansiosa. De repente, sonó el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacó de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "¡Adrian!". Capítulo 3 Siempre mantendré la cabeza en alto La frustración de Adrian crepitaba como estática. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "¡No se trata de eso!", replicó Joelle. La había malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazón latiendo con urgencia, corrió tras él. "¡Adrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejó de subir las escaleras y giró la cabeza. El celular en su mano había dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, ¿no se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntó burlonamente con una mirada gélida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, ¿por qué no se lo dices tú misma a la abuela? ¡No quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerró de golpe detrás de él, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisión. Joelle se apoyó contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizó al suelo. Una risa amarga emergió de sus labios. Irene había organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se había visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabía muy bien. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, lo más efectivo sería hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estúpida parte de ella se había aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo había mencionado primero a él, porque lo veía como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidó un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca había querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia había sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella había intentado pasarla por alto. Sus últimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, debería enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparó para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenía un vínculo muy especial con ella. En parte, había aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. Quería cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba más. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecía consumirla. Era consciente de que él no la amaba. ¡Nunca lo hizo y nunca lo haría! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonó su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "¿Shawn? ¿Qué ocurre?". "¡Señora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca había escuchado. Se le heló la s*gre y agarró el celular con más fuerza mientras permanecía en la escalera. "¿Dónde está mi hermano? ¿Qué le pasó?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistió a una reunión de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que biera. Supuestamente volvería a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistió en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedó congelada y la furia recorrió sus venas. "¿Erick no sabía que eso podría matarlo?". "¡Erick es un svergüenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chóferes de la familia Miller. ¡Señora Miller, tiene que venir rápido! El señor Watson está siendo operado y los médicos han emitido dos avisos de condición crítica. ¡No pude aguantar más, así que la llamé!". El asistente parecía estar al borde de las lágrimas. Joelle sabía que él no se habría puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situación fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la había protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrías que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debía estar en peligro. Joelle sintió como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formó en su garganta. Al bajar del último escalón, tropezó y se cayó con fuerza, torciéndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolvió a la realidad y las lágrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "¡Oh, no, señora Miller, tenga más cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corrió a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarró el brazo de Leah con la visión borrosa a causa de las lágrimas. Intentó hablar, pero las palabras le salían entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ¡Tengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintió su urgencia y respondió sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ¡Le pediré al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos después, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volvió hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazón de la criada se ablandó. Incluso con el rostro pálido y surcado de lágrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ¡Qué muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sé qué hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegó al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirófano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomó. Joelle se acercó y lo encontró arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en sgre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. Más tarde habría tiempo para eso. Cuando la condición de Shawn fue más estable, Joelle llevó al asistente a un lado. "Cuéntamelo todo. ¿Cómo ocurrió esto?". El asistente vaciló, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenó específicamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestión de vida o muerte. ¿Piensas que todavía es una opción no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondió el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea más llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn había luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrían desvanecido hacía mucho tiempo. Su deseo más profundo era que su hermana viviera cómodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecía por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguiría siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabía que no podía cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspiró profundamente y preguntó: "¿No mencionaron mi relación con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas más difíciles a usted". Joelle soltó una risa amarga. Jamás había estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podía soportarse a sí misma. Solo hacía una hora que le había pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligió personalmente. ¡Mientras sea la señora Miller, mantendré la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrás de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenía una sonrisa fría en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frágil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a él. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se había dado cuenta de que ella realmente no quería el divorcio. La mujer que había parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su título como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no había sido más que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacías. Era tan astuta que lo había d*gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tácticas tan engañosas, ¿cómo podría irse tan fácilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle sería una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciándose de él. Capítulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta Hacía mucho que Joelle se había vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. Observó sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordó los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ¡Qué pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeó. "¡Joelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, así que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozó una leve sonrisa. "¿Qué te trae al hospital?", preguntó mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicación de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "También vine a pedirte perdón, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "¿Descuidado?", replicó ella. "Tu hermano casi mta al mío, ¿y crees que una disculpa bastará para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeció y agarró la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondió él con una voz tan gélida como el invierno. "No fue a propósito". Luego, se volvió hacia Rebecca y agregó suavemente: "Vamos, ¿no viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendió todo. Había esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, había venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, sería por obligación, nada más. Pero sabía que no debía esperar que él la defendiera. "¡Rebecca, no olvidaré lo que hizo Erick!", espetó. Rebecca dobló las piernas y se desplomó sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapó justo a tiempo y la abrazó con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenía malas intenciones. ¡También está en el hospital!". "¿Ya está muerto? ¡Si no, tendrá que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solía arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la única familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperación, y su madre había fallecido en un accidente de tráfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habían sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentándose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos más oscuros, Shawn llevó sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasión por el violín. Ahora la idea de perderlo también a él era insoportable. Su único deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ¿cómo puedes decir eso?", sollozó Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijó su fría mirada en Joelle. "¿Qué deseas?". "Shawn recibió dos avisos de condición crítica. ¿Qué hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeó, su frágil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "¡Joelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ¡Por favor, ten compasión!". Se desmayó antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantó en sus brazos y le dio una última mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejó y la dejó clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareció una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, había sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtió en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que había sido. Ella solía ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sólo para complacer a su marido. ¡Qué patético! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? Los capítulos disponibles son limitados aquí, haga click el botón abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo más contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederá a este libro) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa	Romance Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/	48,393	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.manobook.com	IMAGE		https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214427880890186	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-atl3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468034547_1170419551344339_2503112848186760669_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=OSJHXvouRCYQ7kNvgH-uCCd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AmVFNPJxD4jyCHR5PAmmev5&oh=00_AYDMYZ7lDuHQxcVMi0JQ7H5c4ymQ9d3fJQHq_wxOr47Dug&oe=67616129	PERSON_PROFILE	Romance Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,647,211	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2647875}'	Yes	2024-12-12 19:18	active	1997		❄️Christmas Break Astro Camp Starts Monday Dec. 23rd!❄️ 7am-6pm, Mon-Friday, Only $24.99 per day No need to register in advance. Pay as you go! For children ages 5-11 years old. (5-12 Ormond Beach) Please drop campers off before 9am with close toe shoes and a packed lunch. . . . #astro #astroskate #astrocamp #ChristmasBreak #Christmas #Camp #SkateCamp #NoSchool	CALL_NOW		Astro Skate of Bradenton	https://www.facebook.com/astroskatebradenton/	3,955	1969-12-31 18:00	Call now		IMAGE			1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-atl3-3.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470136925_601059262587418_6062919426409924515_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PoSS_B7nYRwQ7kNvgHAVyqN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-atl3-3.xx&_nc_gid=AdLpOYzyZq3hcTAIJQ9fw_w&oh=00_AYCgcJQi3ENd7oNqHh97pmbqS_y5BBNMOLlY4Asb0QGAsg&oe=67616B0D	PERSON_PROFILE	Astro Skate of Bradenton	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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