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🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | One day, Wendy discovered that her husband Stanley was having an affair. He had been seeing a college student. It was Stanley's birthday. Wendy had prepared a table full of dishes early in the day. Just then, she heard a notification from his phone. Ding! He had left his phone at home. Wendy switched it on and saw a text from the college student. [I hurt myself when I was carrying the cake. It hurts so much.] Attached was a selfie—not of the sender's face, but of her legs. The girl in the photo wore pulled-up white socks, black leather shoes, and a blue-and-white skirt that had been pushed up to reveal her long, slender legs. Her pale knees were visibly reddened from the bump. The youthful, vibrant image of her body paired with coquettish words exuded a forbidden allure. People often say successful businessmen like Stanley favored this type of woman when choosing mistresses. Wendy clutched the phone tightly, her fingers turning white from the pressure. Ding! Another text came from the college student. "Mr. Hawk, see you at Cloud Hotel tonight. I want to celebrate your birthday!" So, his mistress wanted to celebrate his birthday tonight. Wendy grabbed her bag and headed straight to Cloud Hotel. She had to see for herself who this college student was. She soon arrived at the hotel, ready to go in. Just then, she saw her parents, Harry and Lilian at the entrance. Surprised, she walked up to them. "Dad, Mom, what are you doing here?" she asked. Harry and Lilian, caught off guard, exchanged a glance before responding to her hesitantly. "Wendy, your sister's back in the country. We brought her here," Harry said. 'Jessica?' Through the hotel's gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows, Wendy spotted her sister Jessica and immediately froze. Jessica was wearing the exact same blue-and-white skirt from the photo in Stanley's phone. The college student was none other than her own sister! Jessica had always been a beauty, known as the 'Red Rose of Hovendale,' and she was famed for having the most beautiful legs in town. Many men had been captivated by her charm. And now, her darling sister was using those legs to seduce her husband. Wendy found it laughable. She turned to her parents and said coldly, "So I'm the last to know?" Harry gave a sheepish smile. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't even like you." "Exactly, Wendy," Lilian chimed in. "Do you know how many women in Hovendale are dying to be with Mr. Hawk? Better to let Jessica have him than some other woman." Wendy clenched her fists. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter too!" Turning on her heel, she started walking away. Lilian called after her. "Wendy, tell me—has Mr. Hawk ever touched you?" Wendy stopped in her tracks. Harry's voice turned sharp. "Wendy, don't act like we owe you anything. Three years ago, when Stanley and Jessica were Hovendale's golden couple, everyone thought they'd get married. But then Stanley got into a car accident and went into a coma. That's the only reason we had you marry him instead." Lilian gave Wendy a disdainful once-over. "Look at yourself, Wendy. In the past three years, you've turned into a housewife who revolves around her husband. Meanwhile, Jessica became the principal ballerina of her company. She's a white swan, and you're just an ugly duckling. What do you have to compete with Jessica? Just give Mr. Hawk back to her already." Every word felt like a knife into Wendy's chest. Tears filling her eyes, she walked away. - Back at the villa, night had fallen. Wendy had sent the maid Mathilda home, so the house was empty, dark, and cold. She sat alone at the dining table. The once-warm meal had gone cold. The cake she had carefully prepared had 'Happy Birthday, Honey' written on it in frosting. It was glaringly ironic, just like her existence—a complete joke. Stanley and Jessica had been the golden couple of Hovendale, with Jessica as Stanley's cherished 'Red Rose.' But three years ago, a sudden car accident left Stanley in a vegetative state and Jessica disappeared entirely. That was when the Crone family brought Wendy back from the countryside and forced her to marry Stanley in Jessica's place. Wendy had agreed willingly when she found out it was Stanley—the man she had loved all along. For three years, Stanley remained in a coma. During those years, Wendy devoted herself to caring for him. She stayed by his side, gave up socializing, and focused solely on nursing him back to health, living as a dutiful housewife. In the end, her efforts paid off. Stanley woke up. Wendy lit the candles on the cake. The flickering glow illuminated her reflection in the nearby mirror—a plain housewife in a dull black-and-white dress, devoid of charm or excitement. Meanwhile, Jessica, now a successful ballerina, was young, vibrant, and beautiful. Wendy was an ugly duckling, while Jessica was the white swan. After waking up, Stanley abandoned the ugly duckling and returned to the white swan's side. Wendy let out a bitter laugh. This wasn't love; it was self-delusion. Stanley had never loved her, but she had loved him. The first one to fall in love always lost. Today, Stanley had made her lose completely. Tears welled in her eyes as she blew out the candles, plunging the villa back into darkness. Just then, two bright headlights pierced through the night. Stanley's car sped up the driveway and came to a halt on the lawn. Wendy's eyelashes quivered. He had come back. She had thought he wouldn't return tonight. The villa door opened and Stanley stepped in, carrying the cool air of the night with him. Stanley Hawk, the heir of the Hawk family, had been a business prodigy from a very young age. By 16, he had earned dual master's degrees from Harfield. Later, he took Hawk Group public in Hawthorne, making a name for himself internationally before returning home to lead the company as Hovendale's wealthiest man. Stanley walked in. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" he asked in a deep, magnetic voice as he turned on the wall lamp with a click. The sudden brightness made Wendy blink. When her eyes adjusted, she looked at him. Dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, Stanley exuded a cold, aristocratic elegance that left countless socialites dreaming of him at night. "It's your birthday," she said. Stanley's handsome face remained indifferent as his gaze swept lazily over the dining table. "Don't waste your time on this again. I don't celebrate such occasions." Wendy smiled faintly. "Is it that you don't celebrate, or you just don't want to celebrate with me?" Stanley glanced at her, his gaze impassive. "Think what you like." With that, he turned around and started up the stairs. He had always been like this—distant and cold. No matter what she did, she could never warm his heart. Wendy stood and called after him. "It's your birthday today. I have a gift for you." However, Stanley didn't stop or turn around. "I don't need it." Wendy let out a soft chuckle and said, "Stanley, let's get a divorce." Stanley froze mid-step, one foot already on the staircase. He turned around, his deep black eyes locking onto her. Chapter 2 Wendy was also staring at him. Her tone was light but firm as she repeated, "Let's get a divorce, Stanley. Do you like your birthday gift?" Stanley didn't bat an eyelid. "You're asking for a divorce just because I didn't celebrate my birthday with you?" "Jessica has returned, hasn't she?" At the mention of Jessica, Stanley's thin lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Are you bothered by Jessica?" Stanley, known as the youngest business prodigy alive, exuded an aura of power, wealth, and status. As he approached, Wendy instinctively stepped back, her slender back pressing against the cold wall. Her vision went dark as Stanley leaned in. He propped one hand against the wall beside her, trapping her between his firm chest and the wall. Looking down at her with his deep, striking eyes, Stanley sneered. "Everyone in Hovendale knows Jessica was the one I intended to marry. Weren't you aware when you schemed to replace her and became Mrs. Hawk? You didn’t mind then, so why act all self-righteous now?" Wendy's face turned pale. Yes, Stanley had wanted to marry Jessica. If not for the accident that left him in a coma, how could Wendy have married him? She would never forget the day he woke up. The disappointment and coldness in his eyes when he saw her was devastating. Since then, they had lived in separate rooms. He never touched her. He loved Jessica. Wendy had always known this, but... She gazed deeply at Stanley's face, the grown man overlapping in her mind with the young boy from years ago. 'Stanley, do you really not remember me?' It turned out she had been standing in place all along, waiting for someone that no longer existed. It was enough. These three years were just her one-sided effort to cherish him. Suppressing the ache in her heart, Wendy said softly, "Stanley, let's end this loveless marriage." Stanley's brows arched sharply, and his deep, magnetic voice could be heard. "Loveless?" He raised his hand, gripping her delicate chin, his thumb brushing against her crimson lips in a provocative motion. "Is that why? Are you asking for a divorce because of that? Do you want it that badly?" Wendy's delicate face flushed red like a ripe berry, vibrant and tempting. That wasn’t what she meant! Yet his thumb lingered on her lips, pressing and toying with them. She hadn't expected such a composed and distinguished man to have such a teasing, roguish side. Stanley was seeing Wendy up close for the first time. She usually dressed in monotonous black-and-white outfits, paired with oversized black-framed glasses, presenting herself like an old maid. But up close, he realized her face was barely the size of his palm, and her delicate features exuded a quiet elegance beneath those glasses. Her dark pupils were stunningly beautiful. Her lips were soft, their plush surface springing back with a subtle elasticity wherever his thumb pressed. It stirred an unbidden thought. Stanley’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t expect you to be so eager. You’re that desperate for a man, aren’t you?" Slap! Wendy raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Stanley’s handsome face tilted to the side from the impact. Wendy’s fingers trembled with anger. She realized that loving someone too humbly only led to her dignity being trampled on. He had actually humiliated her. Furious, she declared, "I know you’ve never stopped thinking about Jessica. Fine, I’ll fulfill your wishes and return Mrs. Hawk’s title to her!" Stanley’s face instantly darkened, frosty and sullen. A man of his stature had never been slapped before—never! His sharp gaze locked onto her. "Wendy, you married me when it was convenient for you, and now you want a divorce just because you feel like it. What do you take me for?" Wendy let out a soft chuckle. "A plaything." "What?" Stanley’s expression stiffened. Wendy forced herself to endure the pain in her heart and said what she knew would hurt him. "You’re just a toy I took from Jessica. I’m done playing, so I’m tossing you aside." Stanley’s expression turned grim, his mood darkening to the point where it could drip with venom. "Fine! Wendy, you’re something else. Let’s divorce, but don’t come crying back to me, begging for reconciliation!" He stormed upstairs, slamming the study door shut with a deafening bang. Wendy felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. Slowly, she slid down the wall, crouching on the carpet. Hugging her knees, she whispered to herself, 'Stanley, I won’t love you anymore.' - The next morning, Mathilda entered the study. Stanley was seated at his desk, reviewing documents. He was a notorious workaholic. "Sir," Mathilda greeted Stanley cautiously. Stanley didn’t even look up. His icy aura hinted at his foul mood. It felt cold being around him. Mathilda carefully placed a cup of coffee by his hand. "Sir, this coffee was made by Mrs. Hawk." Stanley’s pen paused mid-air, his cold expression softening slightly. Was she trying to make amends? Truth be told, Wendy was an excellent wife. She cooked to his preferences, hand-washed his clothes, and meticulously managed his daily needs. Stanley picked up the coffee, taking a sip. It was her coffee—the taste he liked. But he was still angry. She had slapped him last night, and he wasn’t about to let that go easily. A single cup of coffee wouldn’t suffice as an apology. "Did she admit she was wrong?" Stanley asked. Mathilda glanced at him hesitantly. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk has left." Stanley froze, looking up at Mathilda. She handed him a piece of paper. "Sir, Mrs. Hawk left this with her suitcase and asked me to give this to you before she left." Stanley unfolded the paper. The words 'Divorce Agreement' caught his eye. His expression darkened. He thought she was trying to reconcile. Mathilda added cautiously, "Sir, Mrs. Hawk asked you to finish the coffee before signing the divorce papers." Stanley glared at the coffee. "Throw it out! All of it!" 'Sir, you seemed to like the coffee just fine a moment ago. Why don't you anymore?' Mathilda thought to herself. Without saying another word, she quickly left with the coffee. Stanley’s face was a thunderstorm, his mood in turmoil. He skimmed through the divorce agreement. She wasn’t asking for a penny—she intended to leave with nothing. Stanley scoffed coldly. It was bold of her to act like she didn’t need his money. How would a country girl like her survive without it? It was then that his gaze landed on the reason for divorce, handwritten by Wendy herself. "Due to my husband’s physical dysfunction, he cannot fulfill his marital obligations." Stanley froze, his handsome face turning completely dark. 'That woman!' He grabbed his phone and dialed Wendy’s number. The line connected, and Wendy’s voice came through clearly. "Hello?" Chapter 3 Stanley's thin lips curved into a frosty arc. "Wendy, get back here immediately!" Wendy chuckled. "You expect me to come back just because you said so? We're divorced, Stanley. I'm not going to continue indulging you!" Stanley clenched his jaw. "I'll give you a chance to rewrite the reason for divorce!" Wendy's tone grew more playful. "Did I write anything wrong? Stanley, it's been six months since you woke up, hasn't it? Yet, in these six months, you haven't even held my hand. You were in a coma for three years, and although you're physically healthy now, I have legitimate reasons to believe you've developed functional problems. You're not potent anymore! Better hurry to find an experienced naturopath. As our parting gift, I wish you an early recovery of your manhood!" Stanley was rendered speechless. The veins on his forehead were visibly twitching. This woman was out of control. "Wendy, I'll make you regret this! You'll know what I'm capable of sooner or later!" "Sorry, but you'll never get the chance!" "Wendy!" The call abruptly ended with two cold beeps. He hadn't even had time to explode in anger before hearing the disconnected tone. 'Wendy…!' - Wendy had already arrived at her best friend Cecelia Sunder's apartment. After she hung up the phone, Cecelia burst out laughing and gave her a big thumbs-up. "Wendy, that was amazing! Stanley must be so furious, he's spitting blood right now." Wendy reflected that she had been too humble in the past, which had allowed him to act superior to her for so long. 'Love yourself first. A woman must always prioritize self-love.' "Three years ago, when Jessica learned Stanley went into a coma after the car accident, she immediately ran away. Now that he's awake, he's crawling back to her? What a joke! You're better off without a man like that," Cecelia commented. Wendy unwrapped a candy and popped it into her mouth. The sweetness seemed to mask the bitterness in her heart. "That's how you tell if you're loved or not, Cecelia." Those who were loved were fearless. Those who weren't lived in constant insecurity. Cecelia noticed Wendy had already gone through a pile of candies. She pulled Wendy to her feet. "Wendy, cheer up! When you give up one tree, you'll discover an entire forest waiting for you. Tonight, I'm booking eight male hosts to celebrate you becoming single!" Wendy covered her forehead and laughed. Cecelia suddenly snatched Wendy's black-rimmed glasses off her face, tossing them into the trash. Wendy tried to retrieve them. "My glasses—" Cecelia stopped her. "Wendy, you've been in academic research for too long, and you've gotten used to wearing these glasses. But you should take a page out of Jessica's book and doll yourself up." Wendy thought about how her parents had always told her she was an ugly duckling while Jessica was a swan. It wasn't just her parents—Stanley must have thought the same. In his eyes, she was just an ugly duckling too. Cecelia dragged Wendy to the door. "Come on, we're going shopping! Hair, nails, clothes—everything! I want Stanley and everyone else to see how stunning you can be!" As they walked out, Cecelia suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Wendy, are you really not taking any money from Stanley after the divorce?" "I have my own money," Wendy replied. "Letting Jessica spend Stanley's money instead? Jessica says thank you!" Cecelia teased. Wendy didn't know what to say to that. "What about the card Stanley gave you?" Cecelia pressed. Stanley was always generous and had given Wendy a premium black card. However, she had never used it. Wendy pulled the black card out of her purse and winked playfully. "Today, I'll splurge—and let Stanley foot the bill." - That evening, at 1996 Bar. 1996 Bar was Hovendale's playground for the rich, where young heirs and the city's elites spent extravagantly. The music was never-ending, and the dance floor was wild. In a luxurious and dimly lit booth, Stanley sat in the center of a leather sofa. Tonight, he had on a black shirt paired with black trousers. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his toned forearms and a steel watch worth millions. His aristocratic, striking features made him the center of attention, drawing glances from countless women in the bar. Beside him was his close friend, Benny Gondale—the heir of the Gondale family—and several other young elites. Benny laughed. "Stanley, are you serious? Wendy wants a divorce?" The others laughed along. "Everyone knows Wendy loves Stanley to the bone. When he was in a coma, she insisted on marrying him. There's no way she'd actually go through with a divorce." "Let's bet on it. How long do you think Wendy can hold out before begging Stanley to take her back?" Benny smirked. "I bet she can't even make it through tonight. She's probably already sent Stanley a message." Stanley's chiseled features remained cold and sharp, his mood clearly sour. He pulled out his phone and opened WhatsApp to check their chat history. The last message from Wendy was from last night. She had sent a photo of the broth with the caption, [Honey, even though your bone density is back to normal, you should still drink this broth regularly. Don't come home too late!] As he scrolled up, he saw countless similar messages—all from Wendy. She messaged him every day. He had never replied. Not once. Today, the chat was silent. Stanley felt a vague sense of irritation. Ding! A notification popped up. "See? I told you—Wendy messaged you!" Benny immediately exclaimed. Ding, ding, ding! Several more notifications followed in quick succession. The group burst out laughing. "We knew it—Wendy couldn't hold out! But we didn't expect her to cave so fast." "Stanley, open them. Let's see how Wendy is begging you to reconcile," Benny urged. Stanley's sharp eyebrows lifted slightly. Did she really send a message? If she regretted it so quickly, why did she make such a fuss this morning? He tapped on the notifications, only to freeze. Benny leaned over and read aloud, "Dear VVIP customer, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 800 at Dazzling Nail Salon." The group collectively frowned. Stanley scrolled further. 2,000. 86,000. 240,000. There were no messages about reconciliations, only transaction notifications. The group fell silent, feeling like Wendy had slapped them all hard in the face. Stanley's expression darkened and he slammed his phone onto the table. He didn't care how much money Wendy spent. What bothered him was that she had gone on a shopping spree right after their divorce. This woman was something else! The once submissive Wendy, who had clung to him for three years, now seemed to have grown fangs. "Stanley, what's Wendy up to? She's gone to do her nails and hair, and buy clothes. Is she trying to imitate Jessica?" Benny commented. "Jessica is Hovendale's Red Rose. Wendy's just a country bumpkin. No matter how hard she tries, she'll only be a pale imitation." "A swan is a swan. An ugly duckling will always be an ugly duckling." Everyone laughed at Wendy. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the bar. All eyes turned toward the entrance. Someone gasped, "Look—an angel just walked in!" Chapter 4 Wendy arrived. After finishing their shopping spree at the mall, Cecelia brought Wendy directly to 1996 Bar. Tonight, she was determined to throw a celebration party for Wendy. Wendy hadn't expected to run into Stanley and his friends here, but she could hear their mocking remarks. She recognized Benny and the others in the luxury booth. They were part of Stanley's circle, and Benny was Stanley's close friend. Back when Stanley had a whirlwind romance with Jessica, they were all fans of Jessica, with Benny even regarding her as Stanley's future wife. Over the past three years, Wendy had never truly integrated into their group. None of them ever accepted her. The labels they plastered on her were always the same: desperate substitute bride, ugly duckling, country bumpkin, and the like. When a man didn't love you, his friends wouldn't respect you either. Cecelia, already fuming, rolled up her sleeves, ready to confront them. "I'm going to tear their mouths apart!" Wendy quickly held her back. "Cecelia, forget it! We're divorced now—there's no need to stoop to their level." Seeing Wendy's calm and indifferent demeanor, Cecelia reluctantly held back her temper. Then, as more and more people began to notice Wendy and exclaimed, calling her an angel, Cecelia's mood improved. "Wendy, let's go. Time to party." Cecelia dragged Wendy to another luxury booth and waved her hand grandly. "Bring all the male hosts from 1996 Bar over here!" Meanwhile, back at Stanley's booth, Benny and the others continued to mock Wendy. That was when they felt an icy and sharp gaze fall upon them. Looking up, they saw Stanley lazily lifting his cold gaze to glare at them. His expression was chilling, displeased, and full of warning. The men stopped laughing, and they immediately shut up, not daring to speak ill of Wendy again. Benny glanced at Stanley. Although Stanley had never paid much attention to Wendy, she had, after all, cared for him diligently for three years. It seemed Stanley still held some regard for that. At that moment, the commotion around them grew louder. "Wow, what a stunning angel!" 'An angel? Where?' Following the direction of the crowd's gaze, Benny looked ahead and was instantly dumbfounded. "Holy crap, she really is an angel." The other rich young men were equally astonished, their eyes glued to her. "When did such a stunning angel begin existing in Hovendale? How have we never seen her before?" Benny nudged Stanley. "Stanley, look! It's an angel." Stanley, who had no shortage of women around him, wasn't interested. He had seen all kinds of women—slim, curvy, and everything in between. He had no intention of looking, but Wendy's booth happened to be right across from theirs. When Stanley glanced over, he saw Wendy. Without her black-framed glasses and her usual dull, conservative attire, she revealed a delicate, fair face, her naturally exquisite bone structure, and ethereal beauty shining through. Her long, glossy black hair flowed gracefully over her shoulders, making her look like a true angel. Stanley paused, staring at her for two full seconds. Benny was excited. "Stanley, what do you think of the angel?" Another rich young man chimed in, "Mr. Hawk probably doesn't think much of her. Mr. Hawk likes delicate beauties like Jessica, not cold, aloof angels." "But look at her legs! Her legs are just as stunning as Jessica's." Wendy was wearing a short dress, shedding her usual conservative style and showing her legs for the first time. Her legs were perfectly proportioned—slender yet shapely. Those were legs that could make any man's imagination run wild. She looked just as good as Jessica. Stanley stared at the 'angel' for a moment and couldn't shake the feeling that she looked familiar, as if he'd seen her somewhere before. Just then, a line of male hosts walked in, all tall and handsome, forming a row in front of Wendy. Cecelia grinned. "Wendy, make your pick of eight." Deciding to indulge herself to celebrate her escape from the misery of marriage, Wendy smiled and pointed. "You, you, you... All of you stay." Benny counted aloud. "One, two, three... Eight! She actually picked eight male hosts at once!" The other rich young men laughed. "Why waste money? If the angel just asked, we'd serve her for free." Everyone chuckled. Ding! Stanley's phone buzzed again with a notification. Picking it up, he glanced at it to see what Wendy had spent on this time. [Dear VVIP user, your card ending in 0975 has been charged 500,000 at 1996 Bar for eight male hosts.] Stanley froze, staring at the words before raising his eyes toward the so-called angel across the room. If that wasn't Wendy, who else could it be? Stanley was speechless. Eight male hosts surrounded Wendy, pouring drinks into her glass. "Let's play a drinking game." Cecelia clapped happily. "Yes, let's play!" In the first round, Wendy lost. One of the male hosts handed her a drink. "Please drink some." Wendy took a sip, but the other male hosts protested. "Why drink his and not ours? We want to serve you too." Surrounded by all the attention, Wendy found it impossible to keep up, overwhelmed by the 'sweet burden' of their pampering. Stanley's eyes narrowed, his handsome features tensing into a grim expression. Without a word, he stood up and strode out. Benny was taken aback. "Stanley? Where are you going?" Wendy was about to take another drink when a large, strong hand reached over, grabbed her slender wrist, and pulled her up like she was a rag doll. Startled, she looked up to see Stanley's handsome face suddenly looming over her. She froze for a second, then quickly tried to break free. "Stanley, let go of me!" His face darkened and he dragged her away without a word. Cecelia stood up. "Stanley, what are you doing? Let Wendy go!" Benny and the others were completely stunned. They stared, dumbfounded, as if they had just misheard something. "Wendy?" "That angel is Wendy?" "Is this the same ugly duckling Wendy we know?" "She's actually stunning!" As they watched Stanley drag Wendy away, her cold, ethereal beauty still lingering in their vision, Benny muttered, "Wendy, who no longer chases after Stanley, just turned into a full-blown angel!" - Stanley's grip was firm and unrelenting, like an iron shackle. No matter how much Wendy struggled, she couldn't break free. His strides were long, forcing Wendy to stumble as she tried to keep up. "Stanley, let go of me!" Finally, Stanley stopped and flung her backward. Wendy's slender frame collided against the cold wall behind her. Before she could regain her balance, Stanley's tall figure loomed over her, pressing her against the wall. His eyes burned with fury. "Wendy, do you think I'm dead, playing around like this?" Chapter 5 Wendy furrowed her brows. "What did I do?" Stanley clenched his jaw. "Who told you to dress like this?" 'What? Like this?' she wondered. "What do you mean, Stanley?!" Stanley glanced at her ultra-short skirt. "Your legs are almost exposed. Do you really want people to see your legs like this?" Wendy's skirt was a bit short, but it was Cecelia's choice. Cecelia's exact words were, "My dearest Wendy doesn't show her legs, but look at how Jessica flaunts hers. Tonight, let everyone see who has the best legs in Hovendale." Wendy raised her finely arched eyebrows. "Looks like Mr. Hawk noticed my legs." Stanley paused. Wendy leaned back against the wall, appearing languid and graceful. She slowly lifted her right leg, her crystal-high heel brushing against his ankle. Stanley had on black trousers, showcasing his long, muscular legs, exuding an aura of coldness and restraint. Wendy's pale foot gently grazed up his ankle, moving along his calf. It was an act of seduction and defiance. Stanley shot her a cold glance. "What are you doing?" Wendy curved her lips into a smile. "Mr. Hawk, which do you prefer? My legs, or Jessica's?" Stanley stared at her small, delicate face that glowed with celestial radiance, yet she seduced him with a dazzling smile. Last night, he had glimpsed the beauty hidden beneath her dark-rimmed glasses, but he hadn't expected her to be this beautiful. He felt like he had seen this face somewhere before. Wendy's clear eyes sparkled. "Mr. Hawk, has Jessica ever wrapped her legs around your waist?" Stanley's breath hitched. His handsome face moved closer to hers, his gaze softening with a tenderness Wendy had never seen before. "Wendy, are you really this shameless? All you think about is men. You even hired eight male hosts to satisfy your needs!" He didn't answer Wendy's question about Jessica. That was perhaps the best kind of protection a man could offer a woman. Their love had been so passionate, full of youthful excitement. Jessica's legs had definitely wrapped around his waist, or else why would he still remember her so fondly? Jessica was lucky to have a man like Stanley so deeply attached to her. He would never describe her as 'shameless.' Though Wendy wore a smile, her eyes remained clear and distant. "Well, Mr. Hawk, your body isn't up to par and can't satisfy me, so of course I have to go out and find men. Let's get divorced quickly. If the first man doesn't work, the next will be better." Did she actually say he was inadequate, and the next man would be better? This woman was truly asking for it. Stanley reached out, grabbing Wendy's chin. "Are you trying to provoke me? Do you really want to know if I'm up to the task?" 'What?' Wendy froze. Stanley moved closer to her lips, teasing, but with words that carried no warmth. "Dream on. I won't touch you. The one I love is Jessica." He loved Jessica. He didn't even need to say it—Wendy already knew. It stung her heart, the sharp pain spreading through her, though the ache wasn't obvious. At that moment, a sweet voice rang out. "Stanley." Wendy looked up—Jessica had arrived. Jessica, the Red Rose of Hovendale, was a beautiful woman with rosy lips and perfect teeth, her body delicate from years of ballet training. Stanley immediately released Wendy and walked toward Jessica. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his eyes filled with a tenderness Wendy had never seen. "You're here." Jessica nodded, then turned to Wendy. "Who's this?" Jessica didn't recognize Wendy at first. However, Wendy would never forget Jessica. Wendy and Jessica were stepsisters, but from completely different parents. Harry, Wendy's father, wasn't her biological father, but her stepfather. Many years ago, Wendy had a happy family with her real father, Jerry, and her mother Lilian, who were always respectful toward each other. Her father loved her dearly, always lifting her high. "Wendy, please be happy always." Then, one day, her father suddenly passed away. Harry, Jerry's brother, moved in with his daughter Jessica. Wendy's mother became Jessica's mother as well. Her mother remarried her second uncle. Her mother loved Jessica and stopped loving her. When Jessica got an A in a test and Wendy got an A+, her mother hit her hand with a ruler. "Can't you give your sister a break? Why must you outdo her?" When Jessica fell ill and had to undergo chemotherapy, her head had to be shaved. She cried, saying she had become ugly. In response, Wendy's mother immediately shaved Wendy's head. "You should look the same as your sister so she won't cry." Every night, her mother, Jessica, and Harry would sleep together, laughing and playing. Wendy, holding the doll her late father had bought her, would stand outside their door, crying alone. "Mommy, I'm scared…" Eventually, Jessica called her mother "Mom," which made her mother incredibly happy. But then Jessica said, "A mother can only have one daughter." One rainy day, Wendy's mother took her to the countryside and left her there. Wendy chased after the car, crying uncontrollably. "Mommy, don't leave me! I'll be good, I'll always put my sister before me… Mommy, hold me… I'm scared…!" Wendy fell heavily into the muddy water while holding her doll, watching helplessly as her mother's car disappeared from view. Wendy would never forget Jessica. At that moment, Benny rushed over. "Jessica, this is…your sister, Wendy!" Jessica was stunned. "You're Wendy?" Wendy knew that Jessica had always looked down on her. When they were young, Jessica had always been the one to beat her. As Jessica grew up, she excelled in everything. Later, she even dated Stanley, the heir of the Hawk family. She grew up in a world of admiration and love, full of pride and arrogance. Benny, once again, was stunned by Wendy's ethereal beauty. He whispered, "I didn't expect Wendy to be this beautiful." Jessica's memory of their childhood was fuzzy because she had never truly paid attention to her unloved sister. But wasn't her sister the ugly duckling from the countryside? Jessica approached Wendy, glancing at her, her brow raised in haughty pride. "Wendy, I didn't expect you to start dressing like me." Wendy remained silent. 'Well, if you say so,' she thought. Wendy straightened her slender back, smiling but saying nothing. The light from the corridor illuminated her delicate, otherworldly face, making it glow like a precious pearl. She was no longer the Wendy from before. Jessica sneered. "Wendy, I heard you're getting a divorce with Stanley. Can't you live without a man? Coming to a bar to hire male hosts to fulfill your desires? If I were you, I'd get a job." As she spoke, Jessica glanced at Stanley. In a tone that seemed almost benevolent, she added, "Stanley, Wendy took care of you for so long. Even if she was your maid, you should at least find her a job." Stanley's gaze landed on Wendy's face. "Jessica, nowadays, you need a degree to get a job. What's Wendy's education?" Benny said. Jessica seemed to recall something amusing. She lifted her chin and laughed. "Wendy dropped out of school at 16." Chapter 6 Benny was stunned. '16 years old?' The reason people in Benny's social circle held Jessica in such high regard wasn't just because of her beauty. It was also because of her exceptional academic achievements. She was a high achiever at a prestigious university, someone unmatched even among Hovendale's socialites. She deserved to be with Stanley. For any woman, beauty alone was a dead end. Beauty combined with education was the real trump card. The higher the social class, the more they valued a woman's education. Benny's initial admiration for Wendy vanished instantly. His tone became dismissive. "Wendy, did you seriously drop out of school at 16?" Wendy glanced at Jessica, who stood there with pride, and smiled faintly. "Yes, I did stop studying at 16." Benny sneered, "Well, what a coincidence. Stanley also stopped studying at 16. But he's a true prodigy, earning dual master's degrees from Harfield at that age and making history. And you? Dropped out of high school with nothing to your name!" His mockery echoed loudly. Jessica stood tall, looking down at Wendy with disdain. Stanley, with his tall and imposing figure, stood silently under the corridor lights. His handsome face remained unreadable as his gaze fell on Wendy. For the past three years, Wendy had been just a housewife, revolving around him. It was no surprise she lacked education. Wendy, however, didn't seem embarrassed or flustered. Instead, her clear, luminous eyes met his gaze. Then she smiled gracefully and said, "Yes, what a coincidence." 'Indeed, what a coincidence.' For reasons he couldn't explain, Stanley felt a ripple in his heart. He suddenly noticed how beautiful Wendy's eyes were—brimming with vitality and seemingly able to speak volumes without words. "Wendy!" At that moment, Cecelia came rushing over. She glared at Jessica. "Jessica, are you bullying Wendy again?" Jessica responded proudly, "We weren't bullying Wendy. We were just discussing helping her find a job." Cecelia was stunned. "You're helping Wendy find a job?" Jessica continued her magnanimous act. "Yes. Even though Wendy lacks education and qualifications, we'll try our best to help her secure something decent." Cecelia laughed in disbelief. "Do you even know who Wendy is? Wendy is—" Wendy quickly grabbed Cecelia's arm to stop her. "Cecelia, let's go." Cecelia held back her words, but before leaving, she cast a mocking glance at Jessica. "You'll regret this someday!" With that, she led Wendy away. Benny fumed, "What's wrong with Wendy? She dropped out of school at 16 and still acts so arrogant! If I were her, I'd be too ashamed to show my face." Jessica wasn't upset. She had never truly looked at Wendy as a rival—Wendy wasn't even qualified to compete with her. Getting angry at Wendy would only lower her status. She smiled loftily at Benny. "Benny, let it go. Ignorance is bliss." Benny turned to Stanley. "Stanley, you should hurry up and divorce Wendy. She's not worthy of you." Stanley's expression remained calm as his gaze briefly lingered on Wendy's departing figure. "Let's go," he said to Jessica. Jessica nodded. "Alright." And so, Jessica and Benny left with Stanley. - Later, outside the bar... "Mr. Hawk?" a voice called out. Stanley looked up to see a familiar face. It was Dave Suarez, the president of Harfield University. Stanley approached him. "Mr. Suarez, what brings you to Hovendale?" Jessica, always respectful of such prestigious figures, greeted him as well. Although she had always excelled academically, she hadn't been able to secure a spot at a top-tier institution like Harfield. Dave smiled. "Mr. Hawk, I'm here for a seminar. What a coincidence—you have a junior alumna here in Hovendale too." Stanley paused. "A junior alumna?" Dave nodded. "Yes, Harfield has two legends. The first is you, Stanley. The second is your junior alumna. Like you, she earned dual master's degrees at 16. She's a high-IQ prodigy. Unfortunately, you were a few years apart, so you've never met her." Benny's curiosity was piqued. "Wow! Stanley's junior is that amazing? Who's better between the two of them?" Dave smiled and looked at Stanley. "They're evenly matched." Stanley raised an eyebrow. He had never encountered a woman who could be his equal. Jessica, who had been calm earlier, suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of jealousy. This mysterious prodigious junior made her feel threatened. "Who is this junior?" she wondered aloud. Dave pulled out his phone. "Mr. Hawk, I've sent you her WhatsApp contact. She's also in Hovendale. You should connect with her and look out for her since you're her senior." Stanley nodded. "Alright." After Dave left, Benny urged, "Stanley, add her WhatsApp now! I want to see what she looks like." Stanley switched on his phone and found the contact. It had a profile named simply 'W,' with a plain white background. "What does the 'W' stand for?" Benny asked excitedly. Stanley didn't know either. He sent a friend request, adding the note, "Stanley." The request was pending approval. Benny was buzzing with excitement. "Stanley, once she adds you, introduce her to me! I'm in awe of her already." Jessica, sensing the shift in attention, grew visibly unhappy. At that moment, a car pulled up. Stanley's personal secretary, Zayn Cameron, had arrived. Jessica seized the opportunity to cut the conversation short. "Stanley, the car's here. Let's go." "Stanley, Jessica, see you later," Benny said. The car glided smoothly through the city streets, the quiet, opulent interior filled with an air of calmness. The dazzling city lights outside refracted against the polished windows, creating a cinematic interplay of shadows on Stanley's chiseled face—elegant and enigmatic. From the driver's seat, Zayn glanced back respectfully. "Sir, where to?" "To the office," Stanley answered curtly. Jessica observed him quietly, love evident in her gaze. She broke the silence with a question. "Stanley, what was that with Wendy earlier? You're not interested in her now that she's grown more beautiful, are you?" Stanley turned his sharp gaze toward her, his voice nonchalant yet teasing. "She's my wife. If something were to happen, wouldn't that be normal? Wasn't it you who handed her to me in the first place?" Jessica knew he still blamed her for leaving him behind to marry Wendy three years ago while he was in a state of coma. "Stanley, it wasn't like that. Wendy insisted on marrying you—I had no choice but to let her take my place…" Stanley's piercing gaze held hers. "Do you even believe that yourself?" Jessica faltered. Biting her lower lip, she feigned defiance. "Fine! Three years ago, I abandoned you—if you can't forgive me for that, then let's just break up! You can simply get rid of me if you don't want me anymore." She turned to Zayn and ordered, "Zayn, stop the car!" Jessica wanted to get out, but before she could leave, Stanley's long, elegant fingers reached out, grabbing her delicate wrist and yanking her firmly to his chest. Jessica's soft body collided with his solid frame, and she froze. Above her, Stanley's deep, exasperated voice softened into indulgence. "Jessica, you're only this bold because you know I'd spoil you rotten." Chapter 7 Jessica smiled, her heart filled with sweetness. She leaned into Stanley's embrace, then tilted her delicate, radiant face to look up at him. "I knew it—you can't bear to let me go. You would never leave me." Stanley, as Hovendale's wealthiest man, exuded an air of elegance and strength that could dictate the rise and fall of fortunes. He fulfilled every fantasy she had about what a man should be. But three years ago, when he had been in a car accident and declared a vegetative state, with doctors pronouncing he would never wake again, how could she waste the prime of her youth on a man like that? So, she had fled. Who could have predicted that Wendy, who married him in her place, would somehow help Stanley wake up within three years? Even now, Jessica didn't understand how Stanley recovered. Could Wendy's fortune be aligned perfectly with his? Doctors called it a medical miracle. So, Jessica returned. She knew Stanley loved her—he would never truly abandon her. Stanley looked at Jessica's radiant face. "If it weren't for what happened back then… Would I still spoil you like this?" At the mention of 'back then,' Jessica froze, guilt flashing through her eyes. She quickly changed the subject. "Have you slept with Wendy?" Stanley lowered his gaze. "Why would I sleep with her when I could sleep with you?" She knew he hadn't been with Wendy, but she asked the question anyway, baiting him into a flirtatious response. He played along, his words dripping with teasing ambiguity. Jessica loved this side of him—the allure of a mature man with a touch of mischief. His response made her cheeks flush. This cold and seemingly abstinent man only made her want to strip away his layers and uncover his deeper desires. Jessica turned, boldly straddling his lean waist. She draped her arms around his neck, bringing her lips close to his. Her breath was warm and seducing. "Do you want me?" Zayn, who had worked as Stanley's secretary for years, tactfully raised the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car. Stanley looked at Jessica but said nothing. She was wearing a red dress. In her seated position, the hem had ridden up, exposing her long, flawless legs. Those famed 'best legs in Hovendale' were now sensuously wrapped around his tailored black trousers, creating an intimate and sultry scene. Jessica tightened her legs around his waist, pulling herself closer. "Say it. Do you want me?" If he said yes, she would give herself to him right here and now. Stanley, of course, understood her intent. But at that moment, an image of Wendy's legs from earlier in the evening at the bar flashed in his mind. Wendy's legs were perfectly proportioned, balanced in their slenderness and curves. She had asked him which legs he preferred—Jessica's or hers. At the time, Wendy had playfully raised her foot, the delicate crystal chain on her stiletto heels glinting as it dangled from her dainty ankle. She had teased him with her toes, brushing against his leg and asking if Jessica's legs had ever wrapped around his waist. Stanley slowly removed Jessica's hands from his neck. "I'm still married." Jessica frowned. "So?" "I don't intend to cheat while I'm still married," Stanley replied coolly. Jessica was momentarily stunned. The intimate atmosphere vanished. Stanley had put an end to it. Disappointed, Jessica slid off his lap. She had pride, too—she would only give herself to him if he wanted her. "When will you divorce Wendy?" she asked. Stanley's gaze shifted to the cityscape outside the window. In truth, it was indeed better that Wendy initiated the divorce—he was planning for it anyway. "Soon," Stanley said, his tone detached. Wendy and Cecelia returned to their apartment. Wendy lay on her soft bed, letting out a small sigh of relief. After tonight's indulgence, it was time to return to her normal life. She pulled out her phone and opened WhatsApp. Wendy had two accounts. For the past three years, she had been using the account named "Mrs. Hawk." Now, that account had been officially retired. She logged into her other WhatsApp account. As soon as she logged in, her notification chimed repeatedly. The group chat 'One Big Happy Family' was bustling with activity. Wendy opened it. [Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wendy's finally online!] Daryl exclaimed. [Welcome back, Wendy!] Ernest added. [Big hugs to Wendy!] Samuel chimed in. Her three seniors were tossing virtual confetti, enthusiastically celebrating her return. [Three years ago, Wendy was all starry-eyed and insisted on leaving the mountains to experience life with a man. So, how was it, Wendy? Was the man worth it?] Daryl asked. [Not worth it,] Wendy replied. [Looks like Wendy had her heart broken. Haha!] Ernest wrote. [So even Wendy can't conquer everything? Hahaha!] Samuel added. [All right, you two, stop teasing her. Let's just say these three years were her trial by fire in the mortal world. Sorry, this is just too funny—I need to laugh it out. Hahaha!] Daryl typed. Wendy was speechless. She was tempted to kick all three of them out of the group. With a swift move, she renamed the group chat from 'One Big Happy Family' to 'One Big Gossipy Family.' Just then, Samuel brought up a serious topic. [Wendy, it's time for you to come back. Our surgery schedule is packed. I've booked you a tricky heart operation. Report to the naturopathy center tomorrow.] Wendy replied with an 'OK' emoji. After exiting the chat, she suddenly noticed a friend request. She tapped it open and saw that it was from Stanley. Stanley was requesting to add her as a WhatsApp contact. The irony wasn't lost on her. For three years, she had used her 'Mrs. Hawk' account to message him daily. Yet, he had never replied. Now, on her other account, he was the one reaching out to her. 'Once upon a time, you didn't care for me. Now, you'll find I'm out of your reach.' Wendy's pale, delicate fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a moment of hesitation, she tapped decisively. - At Hawk Group… The Hawk Group building, a landmark of Hovendale, controlled the city's economic pulse. It towered into the clouds, its grandeur even more striking against the night sky. After dropping Jessica off at her home, Stanley arrived at his office. He sat in his black leather chair while he reviewed documents. The sharp nib of his pen scratched across the paper as he signed his name, 'Stanley,' with bold, confident strokes. Behind him, the gleaming floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the vibrant lights of the city—a dazzling backdrop that seemed to exist solely to complement this man. A crisp-sounding notification broke the silence. His phone buzzed with a WhatsApp alert. Stanley picked up his phone and opened the app. His brilliant junior had responded. Upon seeing the response, Stanley froze for a moment. Then, his thin lips curved into a smirk and he let out a soft chuckle. Chapter 8 Stanley's genius junior had directly rejected his friend request! At that moment, Zayn walked in with a cup of coffee. When he saw the screen on Stanley's phone, he was stunned. 'Did someone actually reject the CEO's friend request?' This was certainly something out of the ordinary. "Sir, your junior is…quite special," Zayn said. Stanley scoffed. 'Special indeed.' She was the first person to reject him. If she didn't want to add him, so be it. Stanley picked up the coffee and took a sip, only to frown. "Is the coffee not to your liking, sir? I'll make another cup," Zayn asked. Stanley suddenly remembered the coffee Wendy used to make—it was always just right for his taste. With an impassive expression, Stanley said, "Write an eight-figure check. That's my divorce settlement for Wendy." She said she wanted to leave with nothing, but he didn't believe it for a second. A girl from the countryside who had stopped schooling at sixteen—how would she make a living? She was just playing hard to get, hoping for more money. This eight-figure check was enough to buy out her three years. After that, they owed each other nothing. Zayn nodded. "Yes, sir." Just then, Zayn's phone rang. He answered and was thrilled. "Sir, great news! Dr. Ceylan has accepted our request and agreed to perform the heart surgery for Miss Jessica!" Dr. Ceylan was a legendary figure in the medical world, known for her extraordinary skills. Even top-tier billionaires had to wait in line to see her. However, three years ago, Dr. Ceylan had mysteriously disappeared, and no one knew where she went. Now, she was back. Jessica had suffered from a heart disease since childhood and had undergone treatments, but nothing worked. Now, Stanley had used his immense wealth to secure Dr. Ceylan's services for Jessica. The crease between Stanley's brows finally smoothed out, and he smiled. Jessica would be saved. - The next day, Wendy arrived at the naturopathy center. Suddenly, a group of black-clad bodyguards entered in an orderly formation, creating a path. Wendy and other bystanders were pushed aside. Two young women nearby were chatting. "What's going on?" "Don't you know? Hovendale's Red Rose, the prima ballerina Jessica, felt unwell while dancing today. Mr. Hawk brought her here to see a doctor." "With Mr. Hawk around, no wonder it's such a big fuss." Wendy's lashes trembled. She hadn't expected to encounter Stanley and Jessica at the naturopathy center today. "Look, there's Mr. Hawk and Jessica!" Wendy glanced up, and Stanley's tall, handsome figure came into view. He was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, exuding an air of elegance and dominance. He carried Jessica in his arms. Doctors and nurses from the naturopathy center flocked around them, fawning over them like stars orbiting a moon. "Mr. Hawk, this way, please." Stanley strode forward. One of the young women gushed, "Wow, Mr. Hawk is so handsome! He's the epitome of a domineering CEO." "And Jessica's so beautiful, with her fair skin and graceful ballerina aura. They truly are the perfect couple!" "A dashing, noble CEO and a delicate, enchanting dancer—ahh, I'm dying over their fairy-tale love story!" Wendy and Stanley's marriage was a secret, known only to a select few. Most people were shipping Stanley and Jessica. Wendy watched Stanley disappear from her sight. Just now, he hadn't even noticed her; his eyes were only on Jessica. She was nothing more than a supporting character in their fairy tale. Reeling in her emotions, Wendy followed her appointment instructions and found ward Number 109. Soon, she saw Stanley, Jessica, Harry, and Lilian inside. Jessica was already sitting on the hospital bed, surrounded by Harry and Lilian on either side. Just like in their childhood, they pampered Jessica like a princess. "Jessica, this is great!" Harry said happily. "Mr. Hawk managed to secure Dr. Ceylan to treat you." Lilian was moved to tears. "Jessica, you've been through so much! But now, everything will be fine. Once Dr. Ceylan cures your heart, you'll be healthy and can marry Mr. Hawk as his bride." Jessica gave Stanley a sweet smile. Stanley, tall and imposing, stood by her side, gently patting her head. The scene of the four of them together was harmonious. Wendy froze at the door. She couldn't believe how small the world was—Samuel had assigned her the heart surgery case, and it turned out to be Jessica. The heartwarming scene inside made Wendy's eyes sting slightly. At that moment, Stanley seemed to sense something. He turned, and his deep, sharp gaze landed squarely on her. Wendy was caught off guard and met his gaze. Stanley's gaze narrowed as he immediately strode over to her. "Wendy, what are you doing here?" "I…" Wendy began. Stanley's voice turned icy. "Wendy, are you following me?" "I-I'm not," Wendy replied. Harry and Lilian noticed Wendy too. "Wendy, why are you here? Today, we invited the legendary Dr. Ceylan to treat your sister! How could you come here and cause trouble at a time like this?" Lilian yelled. Harry's expression darkened. "Wendy, you're so inconsiderate. Leave immediately!" Jessica said nothing. She sat on the bed, her gaze haughty and radiant as she glanced at Wendy. At that moment, Stanley's imposing figure leaned closer. He grabbed Wendy's slender arm. His voice was cold and dismissive. "Wendy, are you still playing hard to get? Have you not had enough of this? Now you're resorting to stalking? Stop wasting your time on me. Leave!" Chapter 9 No one welcomed her arrival—they were all trying to push her away. Wendy found it laughable. Her cold, sharp eyes swept across Lilian, Jessica, and Harry's faces before she yanked her arm out of Stanley's grip. A faint smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine, I'll leave." 'Remember this—it was you who told me to go!' With that, Wendy turned and walked away. Soon after, she came back. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she asked, "Mr. Hawk, do you know why I came to the naturopathy center today?" Stanley's gaze fell on her flawless, porcelain-like face, her soft peach fuzz catching the light, making her beauty even more striking. Stanley's expression was cold, and it was clear he didn't care. His voice was harsh and distant. "Wendy, this is getting annoying." Wendy stepped forward with a dazzling smile. "I'm here to help you find a naturopath." She pulled a small card out of her pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is for you." Stanley looked down at the slightly yellowed card, which looked like something someone might slip through a door crack. The card read, "Traditional Naturopath – Specializing in ED, and helping you rediscover your manhood. Contact: 138..8888" Stanley's usually stoic face cracked ever so slightly. Wendy slipped the card into his suit pocket. "Jessica has a problem. Mr. Hawk, don't you as well? You both should really get yourselves checked out." She turned and walked away without waiting for a response. Stanley's hand, hanging by his side, clenched into a fist. This woman always managed to push his buttons. Jessica broke the silence. "Stanley, let it go. Wendy isn't worth our time." Lilian nodded. "Right. Why isn't Dr. Ceylan here yet?" Everyone grew tense at the mention of Dr. Ceylan, who was Jessica's last hope. Stanley glanced at his watch. The appointment time had passed, but Dr. Ceylan hadn't arrived. Just then, a nurse walked in. "Mr. Hawk." Jessica, Harry, and Lilian perked up. "Is Dr. Ceylan here?" The nurse addressed Stanley. "Dr. Ceylan arrived earlier but has already left." 'What?' Stanley looked down the hallway but didn't see anyone—only Wendy disappearing around a corner. Stanley frowned. "I didn't see Dr. Ceylan." The nurse explained, "Dr. Ceylan came, but decided not to stay." "Why?" Jessica, Harry, and Lilian's expressions changed instantly. "Why would Dr. Ceylan leave without helping Jessica?" The nurse apologized, "I'm sorry, but Dr. Ceylan refused to treat Miss Jessica." Jessica's face went pale. Dr. Ceylan wouldn't treat her? Why? Their earlier hope was doused like a bucket of cold water. Everyone was stunned. Jessica lost it. "Why won't Dr. Ceylan treat me? Why?" Harry and Lilian immediately comforted her. "Jessica, don't get upset. We'll figure something out and bring Dr. Ceylan back. You'll be okay!" Stanley's sharp features hardened. He stared down the empty hallway, his aura radiating danger. Outside the hospital, someone called out, "Wendy." Wendy paused and turned around slowly. It was Lilian, who had followed her out. Lilian approached her. "Wendy, this is for you." Wendy glanced down—it was a check for 20,000. "Wendy, Mr. Hawk doesn't love you. Stop clinging to him and give him back to your sister. Why can't you let her have him? Just divorce him and take this money to start fresh in the countryside," Lilian said. Wendy found it absurd. If she hadn't secretly done a DNA test on Lilian and Jessica, she might have believed Jessica was Lilian's biological daughter. Yet, that wasn't the case. Lilian was only Jessica's stepmother. However, Lilian adored Jessica and not Wendy, her actual daughter. Wendy knew Lilian was obsessed with Harry, which explained her bias. Wendy's gaze was calm as she looked at Lilian. She smiled faintly. "So, being Mrs. Hawk is only worth this much to you? Or is that all I'm worth in your eyes?" Lilian froze, then hurriedly said, "Wendy, I'm your mother, and I'm doing this for your good. You don't belong here…" 'Mother?' The word sounded foreign, and Wendy laughed softly. "You already sent me to the countryside once, and now you want to do it again. You really are a great mother!" Wendy didn't look at Lilian again. She stepped into a taxi and left. Lilian stood frozen, watching Wendy's taxi leave. Just then, someone approached. "Mrs. Crone." Lilian turned to see Ted Whalen, the head of the naturopathy center. Lilian immediately approached him. "Dr. Whalen, you have so many connections. Can you help us get Dr. Ceylan to treat Jessica?" Dr. Whalen smiled. "Mrs. Crone, I know Dr. Ceylan personally. I can make the introduction." Lilian's face lit up. "Really? Thank you so much, Dr. Whalen." Dr. Whalen's gaze shifted to where Wendy had disappeared. A sly smile tugged at his lips. "Mrs. Crone, was that your daughter who came back from the countryside? She's stunning. For a second, I thought I'd seen an angel." Lilian's expression turned cold, her earlier excitement fading into icy indifference. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 375 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | beokn.com | IMAGE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17748&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/t39.35426-6/476833434_1133799561314017_6295890173691265428_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CrPoOinRZ9QQ7kNvgFNcLb9&_nc_oc=Adh9eutXncDdKcS-jG-_rGzWz1YMpNyl_XLcEjwwHjwSnzLVpH9F3yUjQMysBqHSPWkD6WPbokjGuNqA7mf9A5uT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AF32acqEUCDLNxwY2Tvr_kn&oh=00_AYAgr2Ser57yASIGXmOpsQv4UzbEKHEXRdVi9bywoAkfIA&oe=67CC18E7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 19:11 | active | 2791 | 0 | 😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and posted a photo of our marriage certificate in the comments section: "Is your troupe’s new production called the Union of Illegitimates?" Before long, Julian called me. "Victoria Dean, what stupid thing are you doing now? How many times do I have to tell you that Averil and I are just putting on a show." I sniffled. "Julian, what gives you the right to take away my lead dancer role?" There was a brief silence on the other end. "Are you part of Redwood?" After a pause, he added nonchalantly, "Averil wanted the lead role in this tour as her birthday gift. I didn’t realize that role was yours. Go online and clarify immediately. Tell everyone that the marriage certificate was doctored." I found it laughable. He didn’t even know where I worked but remembered Averil’s birthday gift request. "And then? Why would I fake a marriage certificate?" Julian replied calmly, "You can say you’re just a fan of mine." "Julian Ford, what do you take me for?" He sighed softly on the other end. "Victoria, we’ve been married for seven years. We’re practically an old married couple. Averil is young; there’s no need to compete with her." He must have forgotten that I married him before finishing college. Though we’d been married for seven years, I was only a year older than Averil. "Julian, I fell down the stairs, and my leg hurts." "Victoria, it’s just an apology and a clarification. It’s not that hard." Julian sounded genuinely disappointed. "When did you turn into such a shameless liar?" Drip. Drip. Tears, mingled with blood from my nose, splattered onto the back of my hand. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I hung up the call. Julian called again, but I immediately put his number on silent. I called for an ambulance myself. When the paramedics arrived, they asked if I had any family to accompany me. "No," I replied numbly, tilting my head back. "They're all gone." On the way to the hospital, Julian sent me a message, "Victoria, Averil was so upset by you that she fainted. You need to come to the hospital immediately to apologize in person. Bring an appropriate gift; there will be reporters present. Don’t worry about your reputation. This mess is your fault to begin with." My hands trembled as I typed a two-word reply, “Keep dreaming." Then I turned off my phone, shutting myself away in solitude. While waiting in the hospital hallway for my X-ray results, I unexpectedly heard a familiar voice: "Mr. Watson, I’m Victoria’s boyfriend. If there’s anything she needs moving forward, feel free to contact me directly." I looked up, locking eyes with Julian as he walked in. His steps faltered for a moment, his movements stiff, but he quickly acted as if he didn’t recognize me. Continuing his conversation with Benjamin Watson, he passed me without a second glance. The faint citrus scent clinging to him twisted my stomach in knots. I almost bolted, but Julian turned back. He seemed to have rushed over, and when he noticed I was still there, a flicker of exasperation crossed his face. "Victoria, have you thought it through?" "I told you to keep dreaming." I pushed past him, limping away in the opposite direction. I felt Julian's gaze linger on my injured leg for a moment, growing colder by the second. "Victoria, are you really stooping to this kind of ploy just to avoid apologizing?" I didn’t want to respond. All I wanted was to get away from this hallway, thick with the scent of Averil’s perfume. A large hand grabbed my shoulder, yanking me back. I stumbled, barely able to steady myself as a sharp pain shot through my leg. "Ah!" I couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. Julian’s brow furrowed in irritation, his tone laced with displeasure. "You’ve really let me down." With practiced ease, he reached into my pocket and took my phone. "Give it back!" I stretched my arm to snatch it, but Julian, clearly annoyed, gave me a firm shove. "Hank, hold her." The bodyguard, tall and imposing, pinned me effortlessly. I couldn’t break free. "Julian Ford!!" Chapter 2 A mask was tossed over. "Cover her mouth. Stop her from screaming." My wrist was locked in a crushing grip, my legs throbbed with pain, and my mouth was tightly covered. All I could do was let my tears flow helplessly. I could only watch as Julian took my phone, logged into my account, and posted an apology and clarification in my name. "I’ve changed your password and replaced your verification number with mine. For now, just stay out of trouble." When Julian finally looked up and saw my state, he seemed startled. He pushed Hank, away, glaring at him in reproach. "Did you really have to use that much force?" He rubbed my wrist gently. "Does it hurt? If you’d listened earlier, this wouldn’t have happened." I snatched my phone back and reluctantly opened my social media, only to find a post uploaded from my account that read: "I apologize for my earlier comment on Redwood Dance Troupe’s post. I am not married to Mr. Julian Ford. As a fan, I acted on selfish impulses. I also want to apologize to Ms. Averil Wells and Mr. Julian Ford for any trouble I’ve caused." My hands trembled as I tried to open the comments section. "Victoria, have you no shame?" “Victoria, my God, your desperation to become the other woman practically oozes through the screen." "Victoria, people like you are a disgrace to dancers everywhere. Get out of this industry!" ... Julian took the phone from my hand again. "Don’t look." I moved my lips, my voice low and unsteady. "Julian, is this what you wanted?" He turned his face away. "People online forget quickly. I’ll have someone redirect the narrative later. Just stay off your phone for a few days." I shook my head slowly, my vision unfocused. "Julian, you’ve destroyed me." I couldn’t make out his expression, but his voice, tinged with irritation, rang in my ears. "I already told you I’ll handle it. Why are you making a scene? If you hadn’t caused all this trouble yourself, would things be this messy? Victoria, you have to understand that even if I deliberately put you in the spotlight, it’s your own fault you ended up like this!" A sharp ringing filled my ears, drowning out everything else as a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Julian, let’s get a divorce." He seemed to chuckle, his voice indulgent yet exasperated. "You’re upset right now. If venting helps, go ahead." He was convinced I wouldn’t divorce him, using his supposed tolerance to display his magnanimity. Surprisingly, Julian’s laughter brought me an eerie sense of calm. Just then, the doctor called my name from the other end of the hallway. "Victoria Dean, your test results are ready." Julian froze for a moment and followed after me. "What test results?" "Julian,” a soft voice called out from behind him. “Why have you been gone so long?" He immediately turned back, heading toward Averil, who stood at the doorway of her hospital room. "Averil, why did you come out? You should be resting. Get back to bed," he said, his tone filled with concern. Dragging my numb, pain-ridden leg, I walked in the opposite direction, completely away from him. It felt as though I were stepping on razor blades. Every step sliced through my flesh. Every step tore through my soul. The doctor handed me the results and warned me that I needed to rest for the next month. Without it, dancing again would be out of the question. I hailed a cab and returned home to face the cold emptiness of my apartment alone. Because of our secret marriage, Julian and I maintained separate residences. He’d deliberately chosen the unit right above mine. On my first night there, he pinned me against the wall and kissed me. "Now I can sneak into your bed every night.” Julian seemed to take particular pleasure in this illicit game, as though the secrecy added a thrill. I once thought it was just a peculiar quirk beneath his otherwise serious exterior. But I was wrong. The thrill wasn’t about secrecy—it was about betrayal. He had grown bored of me and set his sights on the newer, more enticing Averil. Chapter 3 At nine in the evening, Julian arrived with a bag of fruit. "Victoria, I got you some cherries. Want to have some now?" I tossed my phone at him. The screen displayed Averil’s latest post: "I said I wanted sweet-and-sour cherries, and he ended up buying regular ones instead. Hilarious." "Did she not want them, so you decided to throw them my way?" Julian frowned. "Don’t be like this..." He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around my waist in a familiar gesture. "Is this because I haven’t touched you for so long? Are you upset about that?" I shoved him away with all my strength, then made a point of gagging a few times right in front of him. Dark clouds gathered on his face. "Victoria Dean, that’s enough. Stop acting like this." "Acting like what?" My heart ached, tears streaming down my face. "Do you have any idea how many hateful calls I’ve received? Do you know I’ve been blacklisted by every major dance troupe? My career is ruined! Julian Ford, what did I do wrong to deserve this?" I’ve always been the quiet, mild-tempered type—in other words, easy to push around. Julian used to playfully tug on my earlobe, his voice full of affection. "Victoria, you’re so easy to bully. What would you do without me?" I never once imagined he’d leave me behind. Years ago, when my parents took their own lives under a cloud of scandal, the entire world turned its back on me. Julian was the one who pulled me out of the mud. He stood up to his family for me, and I still remember how he knelt in the rain for hours, defying their disapproval. He took me far away from the pain and gave us a fresh start in a new city. Even when I was at my lowest, broken and worthless, Julian didn’t give up on me The hardest days were behind us, yet now I faced his betrayal. “Let’s divorce,” I said, closing my eyes. “At least let me keep some dignity.” "Victoria..." Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, looking weary. "This isn’t the first time you got insulted, so why are you acting so delicate now?" My eyes flew open in disbelief, and I stared at him, stunned. “What did you just say?” Julian pressed his lips into a thin line, his expression dark. “When your parents took their lives, the whole country was cursing you—” “Get out!” I screamed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and hurling it at him. “Get out!” Julian looked utterly taken aback. He had never seen me so hysterical. After a moment of stunned silence, he stormed out, taking the bag of cherries with him. “Don’t need my leftovers, huh? Fine. Let’s see how long you can hold out,” he snapped as he left. Not even ten minutes later, Averil posted another update. "First day in the new place—this décor is so tacky. What kind of tasteless guy thought this up?" The photograph showed his upstairs apartment. The so-called "tacky décor" was all my work. Julian even replied to her post, "Yeah, it’s pretty bad. Let’s tear it down and redo it." I rubbed my sore eyes, my tears long dried. A house could be redecorated. A partner could be replaced. To him, I was nothing more than an old, discarded toy. When yet another harassing phone call came through, I finally pulled out my SIM card and replaced it with the number I’d used during my overseas performances. Back then, a prestigious international dance troupe had extended me an offer, but I had turned down the opportunity because I couldn’t bear to part with Julian. Now, with my heart pounding, I nervously dialed the number that had contacted me back then. “Hello, is this Mr. Jason Yates?” There was silence on the other end. If not for the faint sound of breathing, I would have thought the call had been disconnected. Why wasn’t he speaking? Had he seen the trending news? Clutching the phone tightly, my palms grew damp with sweat. “Mr. Yates, please listen to me. I didn’t do any of those things. I’ve tried to post a clarification, but my social media account has been taken over. Every time I create a new one, my post gets deleted within seconds. I…” “Wait for me.” A low, muffled male voice interrupted me. It sounded unexpectedly familiar but was completely different from the blond-haired Jason I remembered. I froze. “You’re not Jason?” “Wait for me,” the voice repeated before abruptly hanging up. I stood there, bewildered, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I was still in a daze, a text message came through, "Taking off. Turning off my phone." A few seconds later, another message arrived, "Wait for me to return. I’ll take you away." Chapter 4 Although his words were vague, they made his stance clear. I exhaled in relief. Over the next few days, I started packing my belongings and handling the necessary paperwork. I didn’t have much—just one suitcase in total. I left behind everything Julian had ever bought for me. It wasn’t because I was virtuous, nor was it because I still had feelings for him. He had cheated, leaving me utterly broken. When my world crumbled, my parents died in disgrace, and I became a pariah hounded by those who blamed me for the children’s deaths, it was Julian who saved me. I didn’t know how he convinced his father, but after that long night kneeling in the rain, he was cast out of the Ford family. At the same time, the relentless attacks against me online suddenly disappeared. He gave me a new name, a new identity, and a new life. He truly caught me as I was falling, staying by my side through the darkest of days. For that alone, I couldn’t bring myself to hate him. All I wanted now was for us to part on good terms. After three days of silence, Julian showed up again. "Have you come to your senses after taking some time to cool off?" I nodded, calm and collected. "I have." He misunderstood me, a smug arc lifting his brow. "Good. That’s more like it, Victoria. Remember your place. If you behave, I’ll take care of you. But if you overstep your boundaries, I’ll make sure you’re left with nothing." He delivered his threats, but when I stayed silent, his gaze wavered, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes. "Are you done talking?" I placed the divorce papers on the table. "If so, just sign them." Julian’s gaze darkened as he stared at the document. His cold eyes turned even frostier. "Victoria, you’ve known about my relationship with Averil for a long time. Why couldn’t you, like before, just pretend nothing happened? Why not turn a blind eye and continue enjoying the comfort of being Mrs. Ford? "Everything she has, you have too. And what she doesn’t have, I can give you. Victoria, you shouldn’t be so ungrateful." I stared at Julian in shock, unable to believe those words had come out of his mouth. I still remembered back in high school, when Julian found out his father had cheated. His mother discovered the affair, and the resulting chaos rocked the entire family. Julian’s father shouted at his mother, "Men in my position are expected to have mistresses. I’m not divorcing you, so stop making a scene." At fifteen, Julian had grabbed a baseball bat and shattered a porcelain vase next to his father. Amid the scattered shards, he said coldly, "A man without responsibility doesn’t deserve to be called a man." At that moment, I thought Julian was the coolest person in the world. But now, fifteen years later, that once-principled boy had grown into the exact kind of man he had once despised. The thirty-year-old Julian had become a mirror image of the father he loathed. The realization made me sick to my stomach. "Not a chance," I said, pushing the divorce papers closer to him again. "After the divorce, you can keep as many women as you like." Julian stared at me for a long moment before finally picking up the papers between two fingers, his expression unreadable. "You want a divorce? Fine. But don’t you think it’s time we settle the debt you owe me for all these years?" I nodded and took out a bank card. "There’s one million in this account. It’s more than enough to cover the cost of my living expenses over the years." Julian’s brows furrowed as he looked at the card I had clearly prepared in advance. "One million? Do you think that’s enough?" "It’s enough." I met his gaze firmly. "I’ve kept track of every household expense. The records are in the study if you want to verify them. The luxury items and jewelry you bought me are all accounted for as well. The ones I used have already been depreciated and factored into the total. "Julian Ford, I owe you nothing." He was silent for so long that I thought he might refuse. But then, to my surprise, he let out a low chuckle. "I was planning to take you to a charity gala tomorrow night. But since you don’t need me, let’s forget about it." His gaze lingered on my face for a few seconds, as though he were searching for a hint of regret. But he was destined to be disappointed. My expression remained calm, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. "We’re in a secret marriage, Julian. The role of Mrs. Ford can be replaced anytime." His lips pressed into a thin line before he tossed an invitation onto the table. "Your name is on it. Come with me tomorrow night, and I’ll agree to the divorce." Chapter 5 I had no idea what Julian was trying to accomplish. But I had no other choice but to agree. When I changed into the gown Julian sent over and arrived at the venue, chauffeured by his driver, I realized I had underestimated his cruelty. This wasn’t a private gala at all. The red carpet was lined with media reporters and cameras, while fans holding flowers and banners screamed the names of their idols. I barely had time to process it before someone noticed me. "Look! Isn’t that the fake marriage fraudster?" Ever since Julian used my account to post that forced apology, I’d been labeled as the "fake marriage fraudster." I had seen countless insults online, but no amount of text could compare to the humiliation of hearing the taunts whispered directly in my ear. "Victoria Dean, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?" "Look at her dress. Averil’s wearing white, and so is she. Typical attention-seeking move." "Don’t even try to compare her to our idol, Averil. She’s not worthy!" "Exactly. Averil’s dress is haute couture, straight off the runway, and hers? Looks like a two-year-old knockoff." The vicious jeers flooded my ears. I tried to turn and escape, but a "staff member" grabbed my arm. Looking up, I recognized him instantly—it was Hank, Julian’s bodyguard. He smiled at me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Miss Dean, Mr. Ford said you must enter the venue." Hank was a distant relative of Averil. Last time at the hospital, he had purposely gripped me so hard that bruises bloomed all over my arm. Julian had seen it but only gave a cursory reprimand. Now, he had unleashed him on me again. The Julian who once cherished me like I was his whole world was long gone. Bitterness welled up inside me, sharp and sour, but there was no escaping. Hank dragged me forward, half-pulling, half-shoving. "Look at Victoria’s awkward walk! Doesn’t she look like a lame old mule?" "She’s probably trying to crash the red carpet and got shut down by the bodyguard!" "Victoria, you’re a trashy parasite!" Before I could react, a sharp insult was followed by a sudden blow—a drink bottle hurtled toward me out of nowhere, hitting me squarely. I tried to dodge, but Hank deliberately blocked my way, even shoving me toward the incoming bottle. “Ah!” Purple grape juice splattered all over me, soaking my white gown and leaving it stained and blotchy. "Ha! Doesn’t she look like she’s on her period?" "Fake marriage fraudster, don’t you have any shame? Get out of here!" "If I were you, I’d just jump off a building and be done with it. The thicker the skin, the cheaper the person!" Amid the harsh laughter, I struggled to wrench free from Hank’s grip. "Let me go! I need to change!" Hank gave me a mocking glance. "Sorry, but even if you’re barely breathing, you’re going into the venue tonight. Mr. Ford said if you want the divorce, you’ll get through tonight’s event first. Otherwise, you’ll face the consequences." I froze in place. Of course. How could I forget? Julian was now the rising star of the Harbor City elite. And me? A woman whose very identity couldn’t even see the light of day—what leverage did I have to fight him? I let out a bitter laugh. "Fine. Let go of me. I’ll walk myself." Hank had no intention of making things easy. Not only did he refuse to let go, but he also quickened his pace, deliberately dragging me along. Stumbling and disheveled, I was hauled through the venue, drawing more jeers and mocking stares with every step. By the time we reached Julian, Hank had transformed back into his obedient and unassuming self. Julian’s cold gaze swept over me, taking in my ruined dress. "What happened?" I glared at him, seething with anger. "Why bother pretending? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?" His brow furrowed, just as a slender, pale arm reached out from behind, curling around his own. "Victoria, I’m so sorry! It was one of my fans who spilled juice on you." Averil, dressed in a flawless white couture gown, clung tightly to Julian’s side. "She probably got upset seeing you wear a dress so similar to mine. Surely you wouldn’t mind, right, Victoria?" In the past, her deliberate provocations would have ignited my anger. But now, all I wanted was to leave. "Julian Ford, you wanted me here. I showed up. You set me up for humiliation, and I endured it. You’ve made your point. Can I go now?" Though framed as a question, I had no intention of waiting for his response. I turned away, desperate to escape. "Don’t leave." Someone stepped into my path, blocking my way. Chapter 6 "Well, if it isn’t Victoria Dean, the great dancer herself. Since you’re here, why not give us a performance before you leave?" I didn’t recognize the man in front of me, but it was obvious that he was just one of Julian’s pawns sent to humiliate me. "Move," I said coldly, my expression hardened. "Oh, look at that attitude." The man sized me up as if I were a product on display. "Still think you’re the rising star of the dance world? You do know, don’t you? You’ve already been blacklisted from the industry." His words knocked the breath out of me, leaving me feeling like I’d plunged into icy water. "Julian," I said, turning to him. "Is he telling the truth?" Julian swirled the wine in his glass, his gaze distant and cold. "This is your punishment for what you did wrong." I couldn’t hold back anymore and pressed him. "What did I do wrong? What could possibly justify you ruining my career and cutting off all my opportunities? Julian Ford, answer me!" His lips tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. "You know very well what you did." Averil laughed softly. "Victoria, I’m performing tonight. Since your reputation hasn’t been great lately, why not dance too? There are plenty of influential people here. Maybe someone will take an interest in you." I stared at Averil, my gaze unflinching until her smile faded. "Julian," she said, shrinking behind him. "Victoria looks so scary." Julian patted her hand, his eyes fixed on me. "Victoria, didn’t you want to cozy up to the right people? There are several entertainment executives here tonight. This is your chance. Why not make the most of it?" I took in a sharp breath, unable to recognize the man standing before me. I thought back to the year Julian first started his business. He was desperate for seed money, and without it, he would have missed a golden opportunity. I had secretly taken a job dancing at a nightclub to make quick cash, but when Julian found out, he’d rather sell his blood than let me expose myself like that. "You know how jealous I am," he had said back then. "I can’t stand the thought of any man looking at you, even for a second." He had loved me so fiercely back then. We spent nights wrapped in each other’s arms in that tiny, run-down apartment, finding joy in the simplest things—even sharing a single apple felt like a feast. And now? He seemed indifferent, almost eager, to push me toward other men. My voice came out dry and hoarse, barely recognizable. "Alright, as you wish." I pushed past the person blocking my way and headed toward a director I had once worked with. "Look, Victoria’s still limping. Could she really be injured?" "Ignore her. She’s faking it." Julian’s voice, filled with arrogance and disdain, blended seamlessly with the mocking laughter around me, creating a suffocating web of humiliation. I forced myself to reach the director, but before I could even greet him, he quickly stepped aside, avoiding me like the plague. I froze, knowing there was no point in asking. But I couldn’t accept it. I had always been known as one of the most hardworking dancers in the industry. My low-key and professional demeanor had earned me a solid reputation. So many people had once begged me for collaborations, making grand promises. I refused to believe that all my accomplishments could be completely erased by Julian’s words. I dragged my injured leg forward, lowering myself to approach others I recognized in the crowd. Yet every one of them avoided me as if I were poison. Some walked away the moment they spotted me, while others sided with Averil, mocking me openly. I swallowed my pride and endured every insult, but by the time I had exhausted every option in the vast banquet hall, I finally realized just how pathetic I had become. I was nothing more than a clown under the spotlight, put on display for everyone’s amusement. They couldn’t resist stepping on me, mocking me. And leading the charge was the man I had once believed I could entrust with my life. Julian looked at me, his expression grim. "Victoria, haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?" Averil chimed in, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Julian, Victoria is my senior after all. Why not just let it go?" He didn’t respond, but the tight furrow of his brows relaxed slightly. "Let it go? No way!" someone shouted deliberately. "A dancer daring to put on airs—if word gets out, won’t it tarnish Mr. Ford’s reputation?" "Exactly. Even if Mr. Ford doesn’t stoop to her level, she still needs to be taught a lesson. She has to learn what lines she shouldn’t cross." "Victoria, drink this glass of liquor, and we’ll consider giving you another chance," one of Julian’s lackeys said, shoving a full glass of vodka into my hand. "What do you all think?" The crowd erupted in enthusiastic agreement, their jeers echoing around me. I turned to Julian and asked, "Is this what you want?" Chapter 7 There were three steps between Julian and me. He didn’t move forward, and I had no desire to close the gap. I knew he was waiting for me to back down. In every argument we’d ever had, I was always the first to surrender—not because he was right, but because I couldn’t forget the salvation he’d given me during my darkest times. In front of him, I always felt a step lower, and I had been willing to tolerate his misplaced anger because of it. Even when he flirted with Averil time and time again, even when he bought her a house to keep her hidden away, I pretended not to see. But today, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I asked again, “Forcing me to drink as an apology—is that what you want?” Julian’s anger flashed across his face when I didn’t apologize as expected. "Yes, it is." I shook my head with a bitter smile, staring at the vodka swirling in the glass. He knew I was allergic to wine. Yet, to defend Averil, he was willing to push me this far. The boy who once couldn’t bear to see me get hurt had finally disappeared with time. Crack. It felt like I heard something shatter. It was the ten years I had shared with Julian. A phrase suddenly came to mind, “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.” “Fine.” I raised the glass and drank it all in one gulp, ignoring the hesitation flickering across Julian’s face. The sharp burn of wine scorched my throat, making me cough until my face flushed red. “Great drinking! Let’s pour her another glass!” Someone tried to refill my glass, but Julian barked, “That’s enough,” shoving them aside. Just as he took a step toward me, Averil latched onto his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Julian," Averil said with a feigned tone of concern. "It seems like Victoria has shown enough sincerity. How about this? When I perform later, let her join me on stage." She smiled innocently at me, pretending to consider my feelings. "Of course, it might mean Victoria will have to take a supporting role as my backup dancer. What do you think?" "Not happening." The wine still burned in my stomach, and I could feel the heat rising rapidly under my skin. "Averil, that stage is going to be live-streamed, isn’t it? Do you really want to use it to step on me? Or is it that you don’t have any confidence in your own abilities and can only rely on cheap tricks like this to feel relevant?" After swallowing my pride for so long, I finally threw all caution aside, releasing my pent-up anger in one blow. Averil clung to Julian’s arm, swaying it back and forth. "Julian, explain this to her. Victoria must be misunderstanding me." Julian’s face darkened, and his voice carried nothing but disappointment. "Victoria, if you still want to dance, you’ll get up on that stage, whether you want to or not. With your position, you should feel lucky to be dancing alongside Averil." His words were a final ultimatum, shattering the last shred of affection I had left for him. "Julian Ford, what am I to you? A toy? A source of amusement? Or just a prop to make you and Averil look good together? This game of pleasing you—I’m done playing." I pulled off my wedding ring and hurled it back at him, watching as his face turned an ugly shade of blue. Then, in front of the stunned crowd, I took the divorce papers out of my handbag and scattered them at Julian’s feet. "Julian Ford, since you’re so eager to distance yourself from me, fine. As you wish. Sign these papers, and we’re done. From now on, we’re strangers. I wish you and Averil a lifetime together, and don’t ever show your faces in front of me again!" | LEARN_MORE | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 375 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.qknymufd.com | VIDEO | https://www.qknymufd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=17636&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/t39.35426-6/474471608_1632005140768714_2055030392048280935_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PYv-bjrrGa4Q7kNvgFKviKD&_nc_oc=Adi48UCtWbYoMuJ3oi9uG2AA-fpyPwIm06K1skhgkqi7RBd4jNABA6wCHZ7fIXOCMbm_RXLzEP0vI91ae32OpaUG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AWhqfR4amSR0rP_DEQhMevh&oh=00_AYAQXPEpjoc-k7g17ZzVS9C8hVNzG8-NCe6ncPfEBkImUg&oe=67CC2D86 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 18:50 | active | 2790 | 0 | 🔥 Final Clearance: Elevate Your Style, Save More! | ✨ Limited-Time Carnival | Selected Bag Special 🚚 Free Shipping Worldwide: Order today, delivered right to your door 💰 Tiered Discounts: Enjoy 10% OFF when you buy 2 items, and get 15% OFF when you buy 3 items 🛡️ Worry-Free After-Sales: 14-day return and exchange guarantee + dedicated customer support ⏳ Countdown: 48 hours left 👉 Click to explore popular styles → www.eclatbags.shop | SHOP_NOW | http://www.eclatbags.shop/ | LuxeCrafted Handbags | https://www.facebook.com/61574004800183/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop now | 0 | www.eclatbags.shop | VIDEO | http://www.eclatbags.shop/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481256617_617996484456231_1146240847460370298_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=n7YeL26tbcYQ7kNvgFqyuIk&_nc_oc=AdiSokT9x0WRnis9mVMTRivsjkq7lFtUGt5csndOL533MY2DRfMjUC67WzEjy4Qdd2ffQKhswfg_Ui03hoKWPLbH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjKXRhg5LQ9BeAPJB2_kYpO&oh=00_AYCV5BAAVpJIis8l5kmpgUfq59IuTETFgp5bXBT3Qt3nLA&oe=67CC2C3F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | LuxeCrafted Handbags | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/kelly__tsun | kelly__tsun | https://www.instagram.com/_u/kelly__tsun | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram Profile | 0 | instagram.com | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/kelly__tsun | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/427807557_316262587622260_3613498527580333135_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=S3HfUzB_v8wQ7kNvgGa1FLv&_nc_oc=AdgUraE1WExmJiyCJvnBbmaLKU4bh3FiqTVSl1KYZa6-VbAxqcjGkLiPJsvh3gEzl5lXRhRi_iWGCeZ0sXfO8EOZ&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDLMKBdp0CTg3aMFIntecGj7iZ_4LIaQevjN-td2sSIXA&oe=67CC0A2A | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | kelly__tsun | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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An EXQUISITE, GORGEOUS Hand-Dyed Yarn Giveaway! ! | Hello, buttercup! Are you ready for March's exquisite, hand-dyed yarn g-i-v-e-a-w-a-y? This month's prize includes an incredible 53 yummy skeins of hand-dyed yarn in a variety of fabulous colors! Just look at those amazing skeins! Someone is going to win, and it could be you! Enter at https://blog.expressionfiberarts.com/2025/03/01/an-exquisite-gorgeous-hand-dyed-yarn-giveaway/ You'll also get a $10 voucher to our online yarn shop just for entering. Good luck, and make sure to read the postscript below. Soak up every moment of this beautiful gift of a day. It was made for you! XOXO ~ Chandi P.S. We'll contact the monthly winner via email ONLY in early April, not via social media messaging or comments. If you get any spammy Facebook or Instagram messages claiming that you won, please report and delete those! They often set up fake pages, too, but they are not us. If you receive a message like this, you can always contact us directly at www.expressionfiberarts.com/contact-us/ to confirm if you are that month's winner. Also, we will NEVER ask for your credit card information to ship your prize to you. | SIGN_UP | https://blog.expressionfiberarts.com/2025/03/01/an | Expression Fiber Arts | https://www.facebook.com/expressionfiberarts/ | 148,545 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Sign up | 0 | blog.expressionfiberarts.com | IMAGE | Hello, beautiful soul! Here is our MARCH 2025 yarn giveaway! ❤️ I hope you enjoy this month's hand-dyed yarn giveaway, and if you want to go ahead and get entered, check out the instructions below. ↓ TO ENTER, click here. Also comment below, and let me know... If you could only buy one more sk... | https://blog.expressionfiberarts.com/2025/03/01/an-exquisite-gorgeous-hand-dyed-yarn-giveaway/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481358767_1307451300308403_5801856758796603413_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HtLfbigNOKwQ7kNvgGVTDEW&_nc_oc=AdieKiwSDJzVypiQM06QSqVh_NiC_oCzoe8Qgu2JLrTH0B-nvW4M3d0-iWEJGwAxXnl-itqD1V8DDw9y4fyfn-Rm&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ATVzg97V14hAgKKQCkCwPw1&oh=00_AYBJfnKa6D-p4tgD5zSs1TAOUf8sXqqepgP4IhhaAno0KQ&oe=67CC1272 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Expression Fiber Arts | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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instagram.com | 🚀 Women in Dentistry: Shaping the Future Through Leadership & Innovation Are you ready to take your dental career and practice to the next level? Join us for this powerful online event where leading women in dentistry will share their expertise, experiences, and strategies to help you thrive in the ever-evolving dental industry. 📅 Date: March 17, 2025 💻 Format: Online Webinar ⏰ Time: 8:00 PM – 9:00 PM EST ✨ Meet Our Esteemed Panelists: 🔹 Allison Norris – Expert in dental business management and team leadership. 🔹 Dr. Amanda Wilson – Renowned orthodontist and innovator in dental technology. 🔹 Allison Lacoursiere – Authority in efficiency and high-performance coaching for dental teams. 🔹 Kelly Fox-Galvagni – Specialist in practice operations and patient experience. Why You Should Attend: ✅ Inspiring Leadership & Career Growth – Learn how to break barriers, step into leadership roles, and create lasting impact in your career. ✅ Mastering the Business of Dentistry – Gain practical insights on running and growing a successful, financially strong dental practice. ✅ The Power of Technology & Innovation – Discover how advancements in dental technology are transforming the industry and how you can leverage them. ✅ Mentorship & Empowerment – Connect with a community of like-minded professionals dedicated to supporting and uplifting women in dentistry. Who Should Attend? ✔️ Dental professionals looking to grow in leadership and business. ✔️ Practice owners and managers aiming for efficiency and innovation. ✔️ Team members eager to gain knowledge and contribute to practice success. ✔️ Anyone passionate about the future of women in dentistry! 💡 Don’t miss this opportunity to gain actionable strategies and valuable connections! 🚀 Your journey to a more efficient, tech-driven, and successful dental career starts here! 👉 Sign up now: LINK IN BIO | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/smile_potential | Smile Potential Dental Practice Coaching | https://www.facebook.com/smilepotential.potential/ | 504 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | IMAGE | http://instagram.com/smile_potential | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481711679_1333143554697146_2082113255563876621_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YzTiT_b8a_AQ7kNvgFPRHZl&_nc_oc=Adj4MJK-YHLCoNvCW96-J7G0PhB9sfjh9M36B8qEjNbk6abV8gF72bWChDOyAZT-kKp4SZp1az6LIYpFG8qfpaxC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7jxxoUbIB9jbng04IGjl8d&oh=00_AYAmqsFUuMHvaPs0rcrhgAPWPUNGF1Ck1Q9wyNxTEDBk5g&oe=67CC2664 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Smile Potential Dental Practice Coaching | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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St Patrick's Day Party Dinner and Dance with Irish Dance by Kelly Academy | $5 Members $12 Guests Live music by Easy Livin' Band Full Bar Corn Beef and Cabbage or Bratwurst Dinner Traditional Irish Dance by Kelly Academy | EVENT_RSVP | https://www.facebook.com/events/1571225560194936/ | German American Society of Hollywood | https://www.facebook.com/germanamericanclubhollywood/ | 3,719 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | INTERESTED | 0 | St Patrick's Day Party Dinner and Dance with Irish Dance by Kelly Academy | EVENT | $5 Members $12 Guests Live music by Easy Livin' Band Full Bar Corn Beef and Cabbage or Bratwurst Dinner Traditional Irish Dance by Kelly Academy | https://www.facebook.com/events/1571225560194936/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481295391_1572228106813493_1341956215449320801_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MBk64w-d4PUQ7kNvgHO5PNc&_nc_oc=AdgdKevwCThEAw9hoicO-AAQOA5nfx_Eee0w6tyImT6aOJglNIJxtt74nUKDlHPH2Pc7_Ic6hUf4m8ZdpOWuW-Tk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwFI_ZUAK3k87Ny63lUQMAL&oh=00_AYAEpOtJpHVZYcBL9J4KvQkg6LkQLGdnh41LEei7Bhpmfw&oe=67CC3808 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | German American Society of Hollywood | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 18:27 | active | 2789 | 0 | Read next chapter👉 | He divorced her because of cheating. She left a message: "You will regret it." 4 years later, he saw her on TV and introduced her as a top 100 female CEO, but she shone and attracted everyone's attention. He was frustrated and begged to win her back! ===== In the bustling, weathered heart of Orkset, flames erupted violently within an ancient apartment building. Propelled by gusts of wind, the fire devoured the structure, belching dense smoke and bright, searing tongues of flame. "Saved! They've been saved." The words echoed amidst the chaos. Firefighters emerged from the smoldering inferno, carrying Carrie Campbell to safety at the roadside. Her features, usually refined and expressive, were now smeared with soot; her sparkling eyes dimmed to a vacant gaze, hollow and lost. As reality seeped back into her consciousness, Carrie felt a rush of gratitude overpower her usual composure. Her voice, hoarse and weak, conveyed a profound "thank you" to her rescuers. Shaking, she fumbled for her phone, her fingertips quivering as they found the familiar number. "Hello, the person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later..." The automated message played after a few rings, leaving her with a lump in her throat, her unvoiced frustrations and sorrow welling up inside her. Bang! With a deafening roar, the explosion abruptly silenced the cold, mechanical voice echoing through the line. Carrie's head snapped upwards, shock painted on her face as she witnessed the apartment she had just exited erupt into flames. Chunks of debris were hurled into the air by the force of the blast, scattering across the sky. Panic engulfed the crowd as survivors, freshly rescued, screamed in terror. They huddled together, seeking solace in each other's arms, their cries piercing the tumultuous scene. In stark contrast, Carrie lay alone on a stretcher, her isolation magnified amidst the chaos. "Kristopher..." Fighting the dread creeping up her spine, Carrie pressed her lips together tightly and dialed her husband's number again, her resolve unwavering. Yet, the call disconnected after a few short rings, leaving her with a haunting silence. Just then, a Twitter notification flickered on her phone screen. The gossip feed was alive with the latest gossip: #LiseNash #MysteriouBoyfriend. According to the tweet, a producer from a well-known variety show had invited the renowned star Lise Nash to a dinner, which had quickly soured when she declined to partake in a toast. This act of defiance had sparked a confrontation, only to be interrupted by Lise's domineering boyfriend. He stormed into the private dining room, dismissing the producer with a dismissive wave and escorting Lise away. The tweet described the scene vividly, painting a picture of a powerful man defending his beloved partner. Yet, perhaps due to his prominence, only the back of the man was visible in the accompanying photos, preserving his anonymity. Meanwhile, Lise, donning an oversized suit jacket, beamed a smile, reaching out to clasp his hand as they departed together. Carrie's eyes were glued to the screen, her stare intense and unblinking as she absorbed the image before her. There he was--Kristopher Norris! The suit jacket draped carelessly over Lise was a dead giveaway. Every piece of clothing Kristopher owned had been meticulously tailored by a master craftsman abroad, a detail Carrie knew all too well. Her grip on her phone tightened, her knuckles blanching to a stark white, as if her very soul were being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain sharp and acid-like in its intensity. In her most desperate moment, Kristopher had coldly disconnected their call, choosing instead to be at Lise's side. What was the worth of their two-year marriage? The tears she had been holding back now overwhelmed her, streaming down her face. Even as she tilted her head back in a futile attempt to stem the flow, the tears continued to escape. Lise had always been Kristopher's first love, a fact whispered and gossiped about among their circles. The Norris family had never approved of Lise, seeing her ordinary background as unfitting. Forced apart by family pressures, it had been Lise who ended things, but the past, it seemed, was not easily left behind. Kristopher had diligently pursued the leadership of the Norris family, harboring dreams of finally being with Lise. Yet, when he reached his goal, he discovered that Lise had already chosen another. In defiance of his family's expectations and perhaps out of bitterness, Kristopher turned to Carrie, a woman equally devoid of wealth or status, to become Mrs. Norris, thereby blocking any matchmaking attempts by his relatives. At that time, Carrie faced immense pressure from her father, Tristan Campbell, who was pushing her towards a marriage with a playboy, the son of a business associate, to cover her grandmother's steep medical expenses. Both Kristopher and Carrie, driven by their personal motives, consented to a marriage of convenience. Originally set for just one year, their contractual marriage stretched beyond its term, sustained by a shared understanding between them. Over time, Carrie began to believe in the authenticity of their union, never suspecting that it was merely an extension of her hopes. Just moments ago, a fire had nearly claimed Carrie's life. In that critical moment, she reached out to Kristopher, only to be twice rebuffed as he spent his time with Lise. This harsh reality shattered Carrie's illusions, revealing that her perceived transition from pretense to genuine relationship was nothing but a facade maintained by her own desires. Carrie wasn't even a temporary substitute in Kristopher's life but merely a pawn used to spite his family. After a poignant pause, tears welled up in Carrie's eyes, unstoppable and poignant. It might be time for her to release herself from the shackles of her own hopeful delusions--to stop deceiving herself. Chapter 2 Trending Topics The overwhelming number of injuries from the fire was staggering, straining the already frantic doctors and nurses as they tried to provide aid. Carrie had been merely grazed by a splintered clothes rack, which left a deep, jagged wound on her calf. In comparison to the chaos around her, her wounds seemed almost negligible. She managed to get basic care--a brisk cleaning and a quick wrap of bandages--at a local hospital before catching a cab back to her house. Bayview Villa, a grand property under Kristopher's name, was technically their matrimonial residence. Living alone had become the norm for Carrie, as Kristopher was hardly ever around. She had bid farewell to the housekeeper, discovering that her life could be quite adequately maintained with just takeout, deliveries, and the occasional visit from a part-time cleaner. Now, she found herself the sole occupant of the sprawling living room, sinking into the sofa, her gaze drifting across the empty space. The stark, monochrome decor did nothing to imbue warmth into the atmosphere. A chilling realization crept up on her: this vast, elegant space felt more like a colossal tomb, a silent grave for her lost years of youth and a love that had quietly slipped away. In this cold, echoing house, would anyone even notice if her breath ceased one day? Carrie exhaled a weary sigh, her frame heavy as she leaned against the cold wall for support, struggling up the stairs to her bedroom on the second floor. Each step was a battle, sending stabbing pains shooting through her from the surface of her skin down to her aching bones. The house, stark and hollow, echoed even the smallest sounds, magnifying her sense of isolation. It was today, amidst this profound silence, that Carrie truly grasped the all-encompassing nature of her loneliness--it was almost tangible, enveloping her senses with its texture and mournful whispers, tightening around her heart like a vice, producing a dull, relentless ache. Upon reaching the sanctuary of her bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, the very embodiment of exhaustion, feeling it both physically and spiritually. Just as she surrendered to this weariness, the sharp ring of the phone pierced the silence. "You reached out to me earlier. What do you need?" Kristopher's voice cut through the line, cold and distant as ever. Carrie was caught off guard by his unexpected call. Words failed her as she parted her lips to respond, but before she could collect her thoughts, a soft, feminine voice floated through from the other end. "Kristopher, will you join me to..." A surge of emotions tightened Carrie's grip on the phone, her heart thumping louder with each second. Overwhelmed and unable to contain her rising panic, she demanded, "Who's there with you?" Kristopher gave no answer, merely stating in a flat, disinterested voice, "If there's something you need, let's catch up when I'm back. I have pressing engagements right now, so I must disconnect." He promptly ended the call, cutting off any chance for Carrie to reply. As the harsh beep of the disconnected line filled her ears, Carrie's lips twisted into a rueful grin. How utterly foolish she felt! Deep down, she knew his response all too well, yet she had clung to the hope of hearing his voice confirm it. With a sense of self-inflicted irony, Carrie activated her tablet and scrolled through the day's hot topics. One headline caught her eye: "A female star shielded from harassment at a dinner by her formidable partner." A wry smile twisted her lips. Carrie knew all too well what it was like to face harassment at those kinds of dinners. She vividly remembered her first major audition after her entering the showbiz; her agent had escorted her to a dinner with the influential director and producer of the drama series "Serene Sighs." As a novice in the dizzying world of showbiz, Carrie had felt incredibly vulnerable, uncertain of how to navigate the murky waters of such gatherings. The producer had eyed her shamelessly, sneering as he asked, "Is this the new talent you're introducing? She appears presentable, but I'm curious to see how she fares with a drink. Here's the deal, if you can gulp down this bottle in one go, I'll secure you an audition for the lead role." Carrie was inclined to decline, but under the relentless pressure from her agent, she found herself compelled to consume the entire bottle. As the evening wore on, she was hurriedly taken to the hospital suffering from a severe stomach ailment. Her agent, fretful about the prospect of the role slipping away to another, quickly settled the hospital charges and departed. At that time, Carrie found herself isolated in a hospital bed for several long days. Yet, even before Carrie could be released from the hospital, the media was abuzz with the announcement that Lise had secured the lead role in "Serene Sighs." Subsequently, her agent rebuked Carrie for her lack of ambition, complaining, "You are more appealing than Lise, so why can't you show more drive? She cozied up to Mr. Norris and hardly had to make an effort. She's surrounded by people eager to cater to her every need. I've heard that Mr. Norris personally orchestrated her landing the lead role in this production!" When the show premiered, Lise was catapulted into stardom, swiftly ascending to the elite echelons of the acting world. From that moment forward, Carrie let her acting aspirations wane and chose instead to devote herself entirely to supporting her husband, Kristopher. After all, no matter her efforts, she could never get the same career opportunities that Lise seemed to receive effortlessly with Kristopher's offhand remarks. At that time, Carrie had believed she was filling the role that was meant to be Lise's as Mrs. Norris, which meant she owed Lise. By giving up the career opportunities to Lise, Carrie thought they would settle their unspoken debt. However, Carrie hadn't foreseen that Lise would claim both the coveted career and Kristopher's affections. As Lise's professional and love life blossomed, Carrie came to the painful realization that she had been overly consumed with her romantic pursuits, at the expense of her career, and now, she found herself bereft of both love and professional fulfillment. With tears streaming down her face, Carrie viewed her past two years as tragically misguided. Given another opportunity, she resolved she wouldn't be so unguarded, letting her heart recklessly fall captive to Kristopher's charm. "Ms. Spencer, the new copyright contract is prepared. Please review it for any discrepancies." Her phone buzzed with the alert, snapping Carrie out of her reverie. She gazed at the PDF file attached in the message, her mind briefly overwhelmed. Under the pseudonym Katrina Spencer, Carrie had once made a name for herself as a budding screenwriter, selling numerous scripts in her early days. During her early career as Katrina, Carrie often sold her work for a pittance, compelled by her urgent need for immediate cash. Over the years, these scripts transformed into blockbuster films and hit series, catapulting Katrina's reputation to new heights. By this time, Carrie had married Kristopher and was no longer plagued by the financial woes that had once driven her to desperation--her grandmother's hefty medical bills were a thing of the past. With her financial crises resolved, Carrie's life had pivoted to domestic responsibilities, striving to be an exemplary wife to Kristopher. Amidst these changes, her pseudonym, Katrina Spencer, gradually receded into the background. However, her past as Katrina wasn't ready to be shelved just yet. Recently, an interested buyer had come forward, ready to pay a handsome sum for one of her old scripts. Carrie, however, was hesitant to sell. She raised several concerns about the contract presented to her, and to her astonishment, the buyer was genuine enough to revise it accordingly. Holding the revised contract in her hands, Carrie inhaled deeply, her resolve hardening. She seemed to have reached a crucial decision. Her fingers danced over her phone's keyboard with swift precision, typing out a firm command. "Create a divorce agreement following my terms and ensure it reaches Kristopher Norris at the Norris Group." Without pausing for a response, she placed her phone aside and limped toward the bathroom, each step echoing a blend of determination and newfound independence. Chapter 3 Exchange Of Conveniences Thirty minutes had passed, Carrie finally heaved herself up from the bathtub, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. As she lifted her gaze, her own image in the mirror halted her movements--her skin appeared as smooth and impeccable as fine porcelain, glowing with an unblemished radiance. Her eyes, deep pools of allure, sparkled with an enchanting, soft warmth, inviting anyone who dared meet her gaze. Despite edging into her late twenties at twenty-five, she reveled in the fact that time had yet to etch its marks upon her flawless complexion. Surely, a woman with such a visage had no place for self-pity. Absorbed in her contemplation, Carrie carelessly extended her right leg onto the cold floor, forgetting it was the very limb she had injured. Wrapped excessively in cling film to shield it from moisture, the tight encasement had stifled her circulation, rendering her leg eerily numb. As her foot touched down, it betrayed her, slipping forward unexpectedly. "Ah!" Carrie gasped, her arms flailing in a frantic ballet, searching for a lifeline in the void. Just as she teetered on the brink of a painful rendezvous with the floor, the bathroom door burst open. Kristopher stood at the entrance, his suit immaculately tailored, creating a striking figure. As their eyes locked, he paused, visibly taken aback, then quickly closed the distance with brisk strides. Carrie's breath caught as Kristopher swept her up in a graceful bridal style, an unexpected tightness wrapping around her waist. Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, Carrie realized with a jolt that she was completely bare. A flush of embarrassment washed over her as she instinctively clutched her hands over her chest. This was their first moment of such intimacy since their wedding, and the discomfort made her toes curl inward, her skin blushing a delicate shade of pink. Kristopher looked down at her with a mischievous grin. "Let's be honest, there's not much to see," he teased gently. Feeling both mortified and slightly irritated, Carrie snapped back, "Oh, Mr. Norris, after all you've seen, I suppose nothing can impress you anymore." She carried her C-cup curves with understated charm, a touch of sensuality that outshone Lise's painfully flat, almost awkwardly rigid build. Yet Carrie knew well that without love, even the most perfect physique paled in comparison to the charm of one dearly cherished. Nonchalantly, Kristopher reached for a bathrobe hanging behind the door and draped it over her. His frown deepened at her comment. "What are you talking about, Carrie?" A thought seemed to strike him, and his expression grew even more impatient. "Tell me, did you send those divorce papers in the dead of night just to lure me back here--to catch you completely bare?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "I told you I was swamped with work. Was this dramatic display really necessary?" Carrie's temper flared at his accusatory tone, reigniting the tension between them. He was always so quick to lose patience with her. She wasn't the type to throw around words like divorce or breakups lightly. In fact, this was the first time she'd ever mentioned divorce in their two-year marriage, yet he seemed indifferent to her turmoil. He simply dismissed her concerns as if she were overreacting about trivial matters. Despite the throbbing pain in her leg, Carrie mustered her strength and said, "Put me down." Kristopher, however, paid no heed, his eyes scanning her leg swathed in bandages. His brow furrowed slightly. "What happened to your leg? Is this some elaborate ploy to lure me back?" At his words, a bitter laugh escaped Carrie. It seemed he viewed her as merely seeking attention, and in failing to capture it, she had likely concocted a story to draw him back, allowing her to dramatize her plight in his presence. With a blank face, she replied untruthfully, "It's a beauty treatment that shouldn't get wet." "Why did you suddenly decide to undergo such a treatment?" Kristopher inquired, his tone casual as he carried her outside, not pressing the issue further. His frame was large, and through his thin shirt, she could distinctly feel the warmth of his body and the defined shape of his chest muscles. The closeness created an uncomfortable tension for Carrie, who had resolved to end things once and for all. Her voice climbed involuntarily, sharper this time. "Oh, since when have you been concerned with such minor things, Mr. Norris?" For the first time, Kristopher witnessed her using biting sarcasm; it struck him as peculiarly amusing. With a calm demeanor, he responded, "You're my wife, it's only natural I'd be concerned about your well-being." "Really?" There was a somber note in Carrie's voice now. "It seems like you've never really regarded me as your wife. I'm scared that if I were to die, you wouldn't even know until much later." After all, at that very moment, Kristopher had been distracted, lost in moments with his first love, too consumed to lend an ear to her desperate pleas. Caught off guard by her accusation, Kristopher's eyes widened with surprise before he let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Carrie, what's brought on this sudden outburst of anger? Just because I was tied up this afternoon and missed your call? Perhaps I've been too indulgent with you lately, and it's made you a bit too presumptuous?" Carrie froze, startled. Was he accusing her of being too presumptuous? She realized their marriage had always been lopsided. In his eyes, she was nothing more than a transactional partner, a woman who had bartered her freedom for financial security. Their union was meant to be a mere exchange of conveniences, yet she had, quite foolishly, fallen deeply in love with him. In the tricky terrain of romance, the one who fell first invariably found themselves at a distinct disadvantage. Kristopher's dismissive reaction left Carrie reeling, her emotions dismissed as trifles, a tight knot of suffocation rising in her chest. "I said to put me down this instant!" Carrie exclaimed, jerking her head to the side, her voice laced with a sharp edge of impatience. Kristopher remained mute, effortlessly carrying her towards the bed before suddenly releasing his hold. Carrie felt a jolt as the support vanished, her heart skipping a beat as she instinctively grasped for him. Their bodies collided on the bed, her bathrobe teetering on the brink of decency, threatening to unravel with any minor shift. Propped on one elbow, Kristopher gazed down at her, his lips curled into a sly, teasing grin. "You wanted to be let go, didn't you? So why cling to me now?" His eyes, deep and sparkling like a midnight lake speckled with stars, captivated her. In those celestial depths, Carrie caught a glimpse of her own reflection. At times like this, she was misled into believing he harbored a deep affection. Sadly, his heart was a fortress reserved for Lise, and all Carrie had left were empty fantasies. "Boring!" she exclaimed, her voice devoid of any enthusiasm as she attempted to rise, her hand inadvertently brushing against something unexpected. The following moment brought a noticeable shift in his cock pressing against her stomach. "Don't move, or I can't promise what might happen next," he warned in a deep, gravelly voice. With a frown, Carrie internally cursed upon hearing the statement. It was an undeniable fact. Primal instincts steered the actions of men. Absence of affection didn't quell their basic desires. Yet, she dared not agitate Kristopher. Angling her face away, her body remained rigid, frozen in place. Carrie, feeling irked, shot back. "Didn't you say there's nothing here to see? What's with the reaction now, Mr. Norris? Are you really that easy to impress?" No sooner had her words flown than she grasped the potential repercussions of her sharp tongue. A wave of regret surged through Carrie, but instead of anger, Kristopher responded with a chuckle, "You are my wife, after all. Since that's something I can't alter, I might as well embrace it. Besides, it's been years since we became husband and wife--it would be a shame to neglect you completely." Chapter 4 Are You Out Of Your Mind? Kristopher slipped his hand beneath the folds of her bathrobe, his touch tracing the curve of Carrie's skin, as smooth and delicate as silk. He encircled her slender waist, drawing her closer with a gentle yet firm grip. Her face, a captivating canvas of defiance and visible irritation, ignited in him an uncontrollable urge to claim victory over her resistance. His breathing grew heavy, yet he remained composed, slowly removing his tailored suit. The fabric of his suit brushed lightly against Carrie's cheek, releasing a mix of scents: a familiar woody aroma intertwined with an unexpected zesty twist of lemon. It was unmistakably Jo Malone's Blue Agava and Cacao--Lise's signature scent. A surge of nausea overwhelmed Carrie at the realization. As Kristopher's eyes, now shaded with a stormy intensity, drew nearer to hers, the proximity conjured unwelcome visions of him with Lise. Her stomach churned violently, and with a sudden movement, she pushed him away, propping herself up with a jolt and a dry retch. "Ugh..." Her stomach had been empty all day, leaving her with nothing to bring up. The desire in Kristopher's gaze flickered out, replaced by a cold, detached expression as he withdrew slightly. Observing the genuine distress and the reddening of Carrie's eyes, Kristopher perceived her reaction for outright disgust at their closeness. He paused, fingers adjusting his shirt cuffs, his voice cold as he confronted her. "Carrie, is this reaction reserved only for me, or is it how you respond to all men?" The air in the room turned frosty, thick with tension. Carrie swallowed the sharp sting in her throat, her eyes widening in shock as she stared up at him. Ever since their marriage, she had cut ties with nearly all her male friends, yet here was Kristopher, casually tossing out comments sharp enough to cut glass. The years of love she had poured into their relationship now seemed utterly futile. Heat crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks a bright scarlet as indignation took hold. Without thinking, her hand flew up and delivered a stinging slap across Kristopher's face. All her suppressed grievances from the day ignited in that swift motion. Her bathrobe, loosened in the heat of the moment, slipped from her shoulders. Ignoring the flush of exposure, she swiftly gathered the fabric and draped it around herself, her movements quick and firm. The impact of her slap had left a light, crimson mark on Kristopher's cheek, marking him with her outrage. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met hers. "Carrie, are you out of your mind?" Out of her mind? Yes, she was clearly insane to ever fall for him in the first place. Carrie fumed silently, her heart pounding in her chest. Suddenly, the sharp buzz of the phone on the table cut through the mounting tension, its vibration bringing a brief respite from their standoff. Kristopher cast a fleeting glance at the message, shut off the phone with a snap, and strode towards the door, his back rigid with tension. Her voice, firm and unwavering, chased after him. "We're getting a divorce! Make sure you sign those papers before you walk out that door!" Kristopher paused briefly and said sharply, "I have something to do now. When I return, do whatever pleases you." With that, he forcefully shut the door. Carrie's eyes followed his unwavering exit, feeling an oppressive weight compressing her chest once again. She disregarded the sharp sting in her leg and hobbled determinedly toward her tablet. Fingers trembling, she hastily navigated to Lise's Twitter page. Lise had just uploaded a new tweet. The photo showed her lying down with a fever patch adhered to her forehead, still enveloped in Kristopher's familiar jacket. The caption read, "Being sick makes me extra clingy. Wishing I had someone here. Stay cozy and take care, everyone!" The simultaneous timing of these two events made it almost impossible for Carrie not to suspect that Kristopher had dashed off to tend to Lise. Carrie's instincts loudly proclaimed that this was no accident; Lise had deliberately sought to tug at Kristopher's heartstrings. It appeared her tactics were effective. Not even Carrie's stark threat of divorce could overshadow Lise's theatrical display of vulnerability. Seething with fury, Carrie quaked like a leaf swept into a storm. She steeled herself against the heartache, forcefully ripping the plastic wrap from her aching leg. After her lengthy soak, the bath's lingering moisture had infiltrated her skin, inflaming the wound until it was a vivid, angry red and painfully swollen. She, too, could be clingy. Even in the harshest times back in the county, she had shown vulnerability, breaking down into soft sobs within the comforting arms of her grandmother, especially that one time she got burned by the scalding kettle. But such vulnerability had its time and place, and it wasn't now. The stark reality of Kristopher's exit forced Carrie to confront her need for self-reliance. Biting down hard on her lip, Carrie cleaned the throbbing wound with a practiced hand before securely wrapping it anew. She rose with a newfound resolve and yanked a black suitcase from the far end of her expansive walk-in closet--it held all the belongings she'd brought into this house as a hopeful bride. She grabbed a fresh set of clothes to slip into and left a bank card neatly on the bedside table. She had transferred every penny she'd earned over the past year onto that card, effectively settling her financial entanglements with Kristopher over the last two years and cutting him out of her life for good. Dragging the heavy suitcase behind her, she limped painfully out of the opulent villa. As she passed through the gate, she wrapped her baseball jacket more tightly around her slight figure, her silhouette hauntingly solitary in the enveloping darkness. The night air of early spring was bitingly cold, devoid of any trace of warmth, a chill that seemed almost faint compared to the ice forming in Carrie's shattered heart. She had arrived here with nothing but a suitcase and a heart full of dreams, and now she was leaving, dreams crumbled, utterly alone. A bitter laugh slipped through her lips. If only she hadn't fallen so hard for him, if only she'd proposed an amicable separation at the end of their agreed year, maybe she wouldn't be wandering now, a lost soul in the shadow of her former self. Lise didn't have to lift a finger, and Carrie had already fallen, utterly broken and beyond redemption. Chapter 5 A Gathering Meanwhile, in the Oasis Club, renowned as the priciest spot in Orkset, the air within the VIP room crackled with excitement. Under the spell of bright lights and thumping music, a diverse group of men and women lounged together, basking in the exclusivity of the setting. Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Kristopher in the doorway. The karaoke session halted abruptly as the crowd turned to greet him in unison, voices mingling. "Kristopher..." Before they could utter another word, a woman cloaked from head to toe stepped out from behind him. Lise, with a fluid motion, removed her mask and slid her arm through Kristopher's. She addressed the room with a poised charm. "My assistant took a sudden leave, and I found myself without company. Not keen on spending the evening alone, I invited Kristopher to join me. I trust that's alright?" Lise's beauty was without question. Her face was a delicate composition of cherry lips and a sculpted nose, framed by eyes that shimmered with a vulnerable allure, commanding a protective fervor from those around her--her presence, ethereal. In contrast, Carrie's features were more pronounced, her beauty vivid and striking. Lise, by comparison, carried a softer, more understated elegance. Yet, as it often goes, matters of the heart followed no simple paths. While Kristopher and Carrie were married, it was in name only; Kristopher seemed detached and seldom included her in private social events. The group didn't have much of a relationship with Carrie, leading them to feel no obligation to defend her. Upon hearing Lise's comment, a moment of discomfort rippled through the air. Nonetheless, they quickly recovered, offering a congenial smile as they said, "We're all friends here; let's not bother with formalities." Lise offered a subtle, knowing smile, as she gracefully accompanied Kristopher into the bustling room. The event that evening had been meticulously planned to express appreciation for Kristopher's contributions. As they stepped into the room, the crowd parted like the sea, making way for them to proceed to the seats of honor. The group's leader handed Kristopher a glass of wine with a flourish, proclaiming with a broad grin, "We truly owe you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Norris! Your exceptional talents are the talk of the town, and witnessing them firsthand today only confirms it. Without your expertise, securing this contract would have been a fantasy!" Their gathering marked the launch of a novel shopping platform, one that had been in negotiation with numerous local brands in Orkset. But the scenario changed dramatically when the tech giant JoyBuy dramatically entered the scene, stirring up the competitive landscape. Competing with JoyBuy was akin to the classic David versus Goliath tale--hopelessly daunting. In a surge of desperation, they turned to Kristopher, reaching out through a network of connections for his renowned strategic prowess. With his characteristic swiftness, Kristopher hatched an ingenious plan and swiftly secured the deal, snatching it from the clutches of JoyBuy right before the business association could ink their agreement--a masterful coup that reverberated success. This remarkable turnaround only intensified the already deep respect everyone held for Kristopher. Albin Murray, beaming with pride, couldn't help but boast, "Ah, just look at the caliber of his friends! They thought they could steal deals right under our noses, obviously underestimating Kristopher's clout!" Albin, born into the wealthy Murray family, counted himself among Kristopher's closest friends. He was renowned for his sprawling social web--a network through which the desperate plea for help was channeled to Kristopher. Meanwhile, Kristopher himself, the focus of all their discussions, reclined nonchalantly on the couch, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead lights. He was well-versed in the art of receiving compliments; thus, his expression stayed calm and detached. The ambient light sculpted his angular features, casting dramatic shadows that emphasized his high nose bridge and sharply cut jawline, as though he were a living masterpiece. His natural grace and detachment eclipsed any terrestrial magnificence. Following a sequence of celebratory toasts, when it became apparent that Kristopher merely touched his glass without truly drinking, the rest of the company toned down their conversation, allowing him a moment of repose with his eyes gently shut. Lise, slightly feverish, opted not to indulge in the spirits, choosing instead to sit in serene silence next to Kristopher, her eyes lingering on him with a look of deep, unmistakable adoration. Albin, captivated by the seemingly perfect pair, pondered the whims of destiny. He discreetly captured their image with his smartphone and nonchalantly shared it across his social networks. As the evening progressed and the liquor dwindled, the room's door swung open anew. Kristopher's personal assistant, Oliver Brooks, made his entrance, acknowledging the gathering with a courteous nod that bordered on respect but avoided groveling, swiftly positioning himself in front of Kristopher. Silence hung in the air, yet Lise, unable to contain her curiosity, leaned in and whispered, "What's going on?" Oliver, maintaining his focus on Kristopher, chose not to respond directly to her. A flush of embarrassment tinted Lise's cheeks as she turned towards Kristopher, hesitatingly inquiring, "Should I leave?" Kristopher adjusted his posture, his voice low and calm as he instructed, "Go ahead, speak." A shiver of apprehension coursed through Oliver as he tentatively began, "Mr. Norris, Mrs. Norris has departed from Bayview Villa, and..." &10& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-e | Lime novel-E | https://www.facebook.com/100090637249756/ | 362 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/65282322-fb_contact-enp26_6-1226-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=2030515880733998&exdata=B1BFBA8CCADC47C14CACFE74B12E94DB6547B062B0910BF3 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481223375_1035313818424095_64617333552499752_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eZ_IylSOsR0Q7kNvgE8Z7MI&_nc_oc=AdjqUtqpm-3RDMlggdSxnN5zMtgP5thRQthlNY2OpBb4Ew4t0pc3dVQPE_rXR7VM6QSif9u17c9kKWktjCwuxPpI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AM--rvGiPhWHL6qw1ijI4Mt&oh=00_AYBqdo87XY5-fBohAu0bD3kOCCqVakSc0PR6dA4_wst0aQ&oe=67CC29E3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel-E | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 18:57 | active | 2790 | 0 | Authentic Hermès bags with no waiting or waitlists Kelly 28 | New White | TC | GHW With love, Love My Hermes 📲 Consultation in DM or WhatsApp | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/hermes.orginal1 | hermes.orginal1 | https://www.instagram.com/_u/hermes.orginal1 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | VIDEO | http://instagram.com/hermes.orginal1 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-19/476301515_9648914558475977_1644622212415071580_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s206x206_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=525117&_nc_ohc=a2HuL_2YQc0Q7kNvgHXOrS9&_nc_oc=AdiiauklJ_ZFcfmGXKjlKwJbhq4YFmk8F0nE8-1BxrXlLjrdyN5RFjd-x08zCwnNoRRXHVKgIjnLOP394OCv6Kg5&_nc_zt=24&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.cdninstagram.com&oh=00_AYDJG1JFT2lITraog_7izOwS_PliDqeXXIt3B4XNVY7PGQ&oe=67CC2D8F | IG_ADS_IDENTITY | 1 | 0 | 0 | hermes.orginal1 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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$1 = 75 Entries | Launch Week Only🚀🔥 | 🔥 IT’S LAUNCH WEEK—FSD17 IS OFFICIALLY LIVE! 🔥 And this ain’t just a truck—it’s a full-blown, pavement-ripping F350 Platinum on Full Air Ride that’s ready to raise hell. 😳💨 🔥Full Loaded Platinum F350 🔥Heated & Cooled Seats 🔥Massaging Seats 🔥Remote Start 🔥Sunroof 🔥Full Air Ride kit front & rear 🔥Gooseneck Ball 🔥Full Color Match Launch week means one of the HIGHEST ENTRY MULTIPLIERS of the entire giveaway! For every $1 you spend, you’re getting 75 ENTRIES! 🚀 And don’t worry about taxes—we’re throwing in enough cash to cover ‘em. 💰 ⏳ But this giveaway only runs for 4 WEEKS. Once it’s gone, it’s gone. Launch week is one of the BEST times to enter—so if you want to be the one holding the keys, get your entries in NOW! | SHOP_NOW | http://fsdsupply.com/ | Full Send Diesel | https://www.facebook.com/FullSendDiesel/ | 60,718 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | fsdsupply.com | DCO | 🚨 YOU can win this F350 Platinum —Launch Week with 75x Multiplier, Get Entered Now! | http://fsdsupply.com/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481199432_2093427337796702_5656811533190364114_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UpfSpAK9bvsQ7kNvgH8ariE&_nc_oc=Adgqd3Ri9b0tZFzVk7y_jsq5fTEZUotYIuZwl5w4kcbtkRhrrU9CZqHHHabq78XzOCYm85KV2ngC08K-wcZwpS5Y&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Arl4ADDRGEfpjw4QI2CrIBj&oh=00_AYCibXNXECS_JFYwDXYYa-Az_uZb3YWaWZcpBv4yC8pjwQ&oe=67CC1D49 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Full Send Diesel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Now Hiring- Apply Now! | APPLY_NOW | Kelly Education - Louisiana | https://www.facebook.com/EducationJobsLA/ | 741 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Apply Now | 0 | CAROUSEL | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481121125_620563857426111_525567415959956542_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v67Y9NpvxdIQ7kNvgGb5roR&_nc_oc=AdiIiXveOh7L82NwpqULdBbbciJZQWVgq5D_9E9hQQS_HVwxzeXUuU4ZCurUUSjMOcNqhcV6Am8CXEpxILjd7fjj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ATQ7gquP44wwVjEcFMurHsy&oh=00_AYCxcl9jpRsLb8LL30PayWgkcy3atM5r2Mi7TkIvjUv21A&oe=67CC3193 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Kelly Education - Louisiana | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Which AT4.0 Street Helmet Will You Choose? Enter to Win! | Enter now for a chance to win a brand-new AT4.0 Street helmet of your choice, including the vibrant and fearless La Catrina. Inspired by the Day of the Dead, this design celebrates life, death, and the road ahead. Honor the legend - sign up today! | SIGN_UP | http://fb.me/ | Ruroc USA | https://www.facebook.com/rurocusa/ | 1,584,794 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Sign Up | 0 | fb.me | DCO | Brand New AT4.0 Street Styles! | http://fb.me/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481266856_983258023386472_7126547289742510804_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RAITC48HFZ4Q7kNvgFZJXnI&_nc_oc=AdiR4oCR0BndIVHc9180_IpqlQM_orqyHZ4pBbZYSNfbMig_uqfk7jjNJViKceXUi4YonnH1H9vfDTn2ezLUao72&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ai4tiaOp0UlUZQW6eY7S8Ol&oh=00_AYCcvQvBx01qU6QhwM6u_OQNH9KsUrOzpiSyaLKZyf3dgg&oe=67CC2880 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Ruroc USA | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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instagram.com | GIVEAWAY TIME! We’re giving away 3 passes to exclusive workout experiences at Stronger Together: A Wellness Collective! 💪🏽✨ Want in? Here’s how to enter: ✅ Follow @sisufitwear ✅ Like this post ✅ Tag 3 friends who’d love to sweat it out with you! Bonus entry: Share this post to your story and tag us! Winners will get access to a high-energy, community-powered workout led by amazing coaches. Don’t miss your chance to move boldly with us! #StrongerTogether #MoveBoldly | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/sisufitwear | SISU | https://www.facebook.com/100089848691239/ | 279 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | IMAGE | http://instagram.com/sisufitwear | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482068995_613386188244760_6622834983361442618_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=o66PtNXKOUoQ7kNvgGSRVUY&_nc_oc=Adi1ZY06i5iRWJB4dUnSi_oelTB1c3FSHJaGqLVS1Gt9DdIl-si_Vhth8MY2kjIMm5hBtL2ZVJBFA7JbJr6ybw8B&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5OVfoHa7-r1POjeI7u6jK9&oh=00_AYATKhIcCMZ6ckHEho1bdu5P1DYOOA1qf814Yaf-BIM3yQ&oe=67CC1BC3 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | SISU | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 18:56 | active | 2790 | 0 | Playing with MGK and Travis Barker | Jamming with my favorite drummer in the world Travis Barker and he brought his friend Machine Gun Kelly. #blink182 #mgk #travisbarker #drummer #vegasband | LEARN_MORE | http://www.johnallredmusic.com/ | John Allred Donohoe | https://www.facebook.com/jallredmusic/ | 1,104 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | www.johnallredmusic.com | VIDEO | http://www.johnallredmusic.com/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481059976_627427103361323_7687292508078981934_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yzEu48XqYWoQ7kNvgGK40u1&_nc_oc=AdgdxN71hYVsrlwzXZTfZOeQ01WZVa0qbPnpZYm2zcqR1xPdqotmAUI8XIxsahoAHHAGLVNl-vYt7ENj5NCzAjId&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ao3qKV1QRXSwsb3sNDDFfrG&oh=00_AYBm93_W4ny1CKzTAAAxYuRtuak_7UP547sPZnfoAAOqCA&oe=67CC2D70 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | John Allred Donohoe | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2025-03-03 18:53 | active | 2790 | 0 | ▶︎プロフィール欄のURLからご購入いただけます 管理番号を検索して詳細をご確認いただけます Online shopping available Please go to the website linked in our bio, search for the product code, and you can check the details ケリー25/Kelly 25 管理番号/Product code : 20328 ▷オレンジブティック 渋谷店 渋谷駅から徒歩3分 Orange boutique Shibuya Shibuya st 3min. ▶︎営業時間 Open hours 11:30~20:00 ▷東京都渋谷区宇田川町26-3-1F 1F 26-3 Udagawa-cho, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo ▷詳しくはDMにてお問い合わせ下さい。 Please DM us for more details ▶︎高価買取も行っておりますので、お気軽にお問い合わせ下さい。 We do purchase assessments, please bring your unnecessary items ▶︎海外発送も行っております We do ship overseas. #hermesbag #hermesbirkin #hermeskelly #tokyoshopping#shibuyashopping#shibuya#tokyo#hermeslover #hermesvintage #エルメス #エルメス買取 #エルメスバッグ #エルメス財布 #エルメス好き #バーキン25 #バーキン #エルメスコンスタンス #エルパト #エルメスパトロール #エルメス好きと繋がりたい #hermescollector #hermesjapan #ケリー25 | VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/orange_boutique_shibuya | 株式会社エイト | https://www.facebook.com/100093147846426/ | 28 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram profile | 0 | instagram.com | VIDEO | http://instagram.com/orange_boutique_shibuya | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481070988_966000378930348_8408728163712512851_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=NEdKc9I7qmgQ7kNvgE0zd-o&_nc_oc=Adhr0r7jR8hhd6ODFCG7A-jxA-hTXDt5mUUvxHpfeWwhxj3nim2huNtw8lZ9rFuD3rdOo02hDBWCHJahPSXYHvBn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ACG5Mx_e6n87BO6TYPLBBVs&oh=00_AYC4ofd10TQfyJuMmltLpQBslQzMeMLkLjFbJLMDwPFj-w&oe=67CC1B17 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 株式会社エイト | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 18:50 | active | 2790 | 0 | 🔥🔥Watch the whole series NOW! 💕💕My Secret Online Boyfriend Is My Ceo | Jennifer, a spirited young designer, has formed a close bond with her online boyfriend, Eclipse. Their virtual relationship is filled with shared dreams and secrets, and Jennifer eagerly anticipates their future meeting. However, upon starting her new job at a prominent design company, she discovers that her boss, Shane Timberlake, is a cold and demanding figure who constantly pressures his employees. Initially frustrated by Shane's behavior, Jennifer soon realizes that beneath his harsh exterior lies a deep loneliness and stress. As she gets to know him better, she begins to suspect that Shane might actually be Eclipse, her beloved online boyfriend. | LEARN_MORE | https://website.novelbinger.com/share/middle/l3o2x | Short drama | https://www.facebook.com/61551551210077/ | 89,975 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | website.novelbinger.com | VIDEO | https://website.novelbinger.com/share/middle/l3o2xejimkwv04rq5sjigpei?ad_id={{ad.id}}&sid=120218728383790529&campaign={{campaign.name}}&adgroup={{adset.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481287740_965359972402128_6290804683582587458_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=X-8M4KvWz3cQ7kNvgGaAUQm&_nc_oc=AdieCJEyRRdk1sh9EmYF35QdgC14DKqjr8lvro9tlxz4AzvxKCpAFp72fVU_MuF0BefkRPg9x5lUweHmnGOUdBTI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AjKXRhg5LQ9BeAPJB2_kYpO&oh=00_AYCan_er1oIdw0mfgmkROA8ZVo9dmMVzAr1VsE9ASgKJ8w&oe=67CC2F48 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Short drama | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2025-03-03 19:10 | active | 2791 | 0 |
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Read next chapter | An accident led her to marry the man she secretly loved. When he woke from his coma, he used her as a blood supply for his first love, even sending her to prison on false accusations, keeping her from seeing her grandmother one last time. Heartbroken, she demanded a divorce. ===== "It's been ages since we've had a moment like this..." Shane Brooks' l*ps brushed lightly against Yvonne Burton's ear. "Shane, I need to go to the hospital now..." Yvonne turned her head away, avoiding the ki*s Shane tried to steal. "Just this once!" Shane insisted. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. It wasn't until Yvonne felt the world around her spinning, faintness threatening to take over, that Shane finally let her go. "Did I hurt you?" His voice, rich and deep, carried a blend of concern and teasing. "How about I make it up to you with the latest designer bag?" Yvonne's eyelids fluttered open, her gaze locking onto him. The man before her was breathtakingly handsome, with features so refined they could have been sculpted by an artist. His usual cool and distant demeanor was still there, though now tinged with a faint, lingering pa*sion--proof of their recent intimacy. After three years of marriage, Yvonne had come to recognize this look. It was his tell, a sign that he was satisfied. That was why he was being so generous to her. Yvonne's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Did you forget? I haven't completed my sentence." "Then you can use the bag when you're out," Shane replied casually as if discussing the weather. Yvonne's chest tightened painfully. Shane had said it so nonchalantly, as though serving time was just a mundane inconvenience. "You will be released from prison soon, right?" His fingers trailed along her cheek with practiced ease. "I told you before, one year would fly by in the blink of an eye." Yvonne swallowed the lump in her throat, her hand clutching his as desperation seeped into her voice. "The hospital called me... They said my grandmother wasn't doing well. Could you come with me to the hospital to visit her?" Since she was still serving her sentence, she couldn't leave here freely. But she had earned a day of temporary release due to her good behavior in prison. Initially, her plan had been to go straight to the hospital. Yet, she had hesitated, worried her frail grandmother, Maggie Thomas, might be unsettled by her disheveled appearance. Returning home to freshen up had seemed like the right choice, but unexpectedly, she had run into Shane at home, who had just gotten back from a business trip overseas. She had really wanted to rush to the hospital, yet Shane had stopped her. He had been adamant, demanding his needs be met first, leaving her spending the entire morning here. Still, she thought, maybe this was good. If Shane accompanied her to the hospital, it would make her grandmother happy. But the next second, Shane pulled his hand away. Yvonne's heart sank like a stone tossed into deep water. "I've got something to do this afternoon. You can go on your own." Shane's words came out without hesitation. Standing up, he retrieved a card from the bedside drawer and held it out. "Use this to buy something nice for your grandmother." This wasn't unexpected for Yvonne--she had seen this play out before. Shane's preferred method of problem-solving always involved money. But she knew Maggie didn't need fancy gifts. What Maggie needed, what she longed for, was to see Shane and her being happy together as a family. Shane showered, got dressed, and left without so much as a goodbye. Yvonne rose slowly. She then busied herself with packing some homemade food to bring to the hospital--something Maggie would appreciate more than any store-bought gift. When she entered Maggie's hospital room, the sight before her made her bl**d run cold. The bag with the food slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor as she cried out, "Grandma!" Though Maggie had endured numerous hospital stays throughout her illness, she had never needed to use a ventilator. This really shocked Yvonne. Yvonne rushed to Maggie's bedside, her voice quavering with worry. "Grandma, I'm here! Open your eyes and look at me, Grandma!" Maggie's weathered eyelids fluttered open, a dim spark of recognition lighting her aged eyes. "Yvonne, you're here..." "Grandma, what happened?" Yvonne's words tumbled out in a panic. "The nurse said you were just feeling a bit unwell and missed me. Why does your condition look so severe?" "I asked the nurse not to worry you too much. Yvonne, I think I don't have much time left," Maggie replied. "No! That's not true!" Yvonne's trembling hand flew to Maggie's face. She then assessed Maggie's condition. Soon, her fears were confirmed--Maggie indeed had not much time left. Tears carved burning paths down Yvonne's cheeks as sadness threatened to tear her heart asunder. "Yvonne, life and death walk hand in hand. Don't cry." Maggie's papery fingers brushed Yvonne's wet cheek. "Having such a great granddaughter, I am satisfied with my life. I am just concerned about how you will live your life after I am gone." "Grandma, please stay with me!" Yvonne hastily scrubbed away her tears, forcing brightness into her voice. "I'll be out of prison in a month. Then I'll never leave your side. Remember how you longed to return to our hometown? Once you recover, we'll go back together." "That would be lovely." Maggie's gaze held infinite tenderness. "Bring Shane along, too." Though her heart knew otherwise, Yvonne nodded fervently. "Of course. Shane wanted to be here today, but urgent business matters demanded his attention." "Work always comes first." Maggie withdrew a half-moon pendant from beneath her pi*low, pressing it into Yvonne's palm. The pendant was made of high-quality jade and was carved with a bird. "Yvonne, keep this safe. It's your--" The door's sudden opening cut short Maggie's words. Shane's commanding presence filled the doorway, his dark suit emphasizing his statuesque frame. He looked elegant with every move. Joy illuminated Yvonne's tear-stained face. "Grandma, look! Shane came to see you!" But as Shane approached, there was something amiss about his expression. His customary mask of cool detachment had cracked; he looked uncharacteristically anxious and worried. "Yvonne, Jayde needs an immediate bl**d transfusion." The words stabbed through Yvonne's momentary happiness. She had thought Shane was looking worried because of her grandmother, but it turned out he was just concerned for Jayde Davis. Of course. In Shane's world, no one could eclipse his childhood sweetheart, his eternal flame, Jayde. All others paled in comparison. Yvonne fought to suppress the familiar ache in her chest. "My grandmother lies here, critically ill. I must stay by her side. Can't Jayde use bl**d bank supplies?" she said. "The rare bl**d type isn't available here, and the nearest bank is an hour away. Jayde can't wait that long." Shane's fingers closed around Yvonne's wrist like steel bands. "Yvonne, her life hangs in the balance. You need to come with me now." "I won't leave my grandmother! Let go of me!" Yvonne's struggles proved futile against Shane's strength. "Yvonne..." Maggie's frail voice called out, her hand reaching toward her granddaughter. "I never told you about your parents. The truth is, you..." "Grandma!" Yvonne cried out, but Shane had already dragged her out of the room before she could hear the rest of her grandmother's words. Though protocol limited bl**d donations to 400 milliliters, Shane demanded double that amount from Yvonne. This left Yvonne ghost-white and trembling after the donation. Despite her weakness, she forced herself upright, using the wall for support as she stumbled back to Maggie's hospital room. The sight that greeted her sent her world spinning--the silent ventilator, Maggie's still form covered by a white cloth... Yvonne's legs betrayed her, sending her collapsing to the floor. Grief had stolen even her tears. She crawled forward on trembling limbs until she reached the bedside. "No... Grandma... Don't leave me..." She clutched Maggie's lifeless hand, drowning in waves of desolation. "My condolences, Yvonne." Shane's deep voice cut through her anguish with detachment. "Jayde is stable now. Thank you for your help... By the way, the prison requires your immediate return." Chapter 2 Let's Get A Divorce Yvonne's chest constricted with unbearable pain as she desperately grasped Shane's leg. "Shane, please," she said through trembling lips, "help me appeal to the prison authorities. My grandmother has passed away, and I need to handle her funeral arrangements. I can't go back now." Shane's features hardened into a disapproving frown. "Prison regulations aren't something you can simply circumvent with money. Your grief is understandable, but you need to think rationally before you speak." "Think rationally?" Yvonne gazed up at him, her voice quavering with emotion. "For eleven months, I've been imprisoned, and four times you've arranged my temporary release to donate bl**d for Jayde--all by using your financial influence. Why is this time different?" "The circumstances aren't comparable," Shane replied coldly. "How can you say that?" Raw anguish seeped through Yvonne's voice as she continued her plea. "I understand Jayde holds the highest place in your heart, but my grandmother just passed away. She raised me, yet I couldn't be there in her final moments. I must accompany her on this last journey--I can't bear the thought of her spirit departing alone. Shane, I am begging you; just do this one thing for me." "You still have an uncle, don't you? I'll help and ensure your grandmother receives an honorable funeral," Shane said. "That's not what this is about." Tears coursed down Yvonne's cheeks unchecked. "My grandmother is already gone. A lavish funeral means nothing now. I just want to bid her farewell in person. If you grant me this, I swear I'll donate bl**d for Jayde whenever necessary." Shane's gaze turned glacial as he looked down at her. "Are you treating bl**d donation as some kind of bargaining tool? This is your obligation to Jayde. If not for your actions, she wouldn't be confined to a wheelchair." Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Shane's words piercing her heart. Jayde's incident had happened a year ago. She had tumbled down the stairs, suffering spinal injuries that had left her paralyzed below the waist. She had accused Yvonne of pushing her down the stairs. The Brooks family unanimously condemned Yvonne. Without surveillance footage or witnesses to clear her name, Yvonne stood defenseless against the accusations. Shane, her husband, had delivered the ultimatum: "Yvonne, Jayde's suffering is immeasurable. Legal consequences are necessary considering what you have done to her. Such an assault typically carries three to ten years, but Jayde's compa*sion moves her to request only one." The irony of it all had left Yvonne feeling bitter. She had initially refused to go to prison, demanding police intervention. But Jayde had produced damning evidence--a video showing Yvonne pushing her down the stairs. The collective revulsion in the Brooks family members' eyes as they watched that video still haunted Yvonne. It was as if they felt even breathing the same air as her was repulsive. *** Shane's bodyguards eventually escorted Yvonne back to her prison cell. The combination of severe bl**d loss and overwhelming grief left Yvonne bedridden for two days, her body too weak to rise. On the third day, fate dealt another cruel blow. In the prison's recreation room, the television broadcasted Jayde's extravagant birthday celebration. The media were saying that the Brooks Group's CEO Shane had spared no expense in celebrating Jayde's birthday. The screen captured Jayde in her wheelchair, her natural beauty undimmed by her condition. Shane hovered attentively at her side, his expression radiating tenderness and devotion. Together, they looked really good together, like a match made in heaven. Fresh tears carved silent paths down Yvonne's cheeks as the reality struck her. While her grandmother Maggie was being laid to rest today, Shane--who had promised to assist with the funeral arrangements--was instead orchestrating an elaborate celebration for Jayde. In that moment of crushing clarity, Yvonne finally grasped the bitter truth: Shane's heart held no love for her. No sacrifice she made would ever be enough to change that. Yvonne had a secret, one she had guarded for a decade--her unwavering love for Shane. Shane had once only existed in a realm far beyond her reach, while she remained just another face in the crowd, their paths never meant to intersect. Fate had intervened three years ago through a devastating car accident that had left Shane comatose. The Brooks family had exhausted every medical resource, consulting countless renowned physicians without success. It was Shane's grandmother, Lydia Brooks, who turned to superstitious beliefs. She suggested that marriage might bring the fortune needed to restore Shane's health. Fate had taken another unexpected turn when Jayde, Shane's betrothed, had suddenly been kidnapped. With the wedding date looming, Lydia had desperately searched for another bride with a compatible horoscope. She had then discovered Yvonne, who had been working part-time as a caregiver for the Brooks family at that time. Marrying Shane came with a precious opportunity for Yvonne--Yvonne's ailing grandmother Maggie would receive treatment at the hospital under the Brooks Group. The hospital was one of the top hospitals in Zlamsas. Ordinary people couldn't afford to get treatment there. Yvonne had agreed to the marriage without hesitation, though her heart held a deeper truth. For seven years, she had harbored an unspoken love for Shane, willing to tend to him even if he would never emerge from his coma. A month after the marriage, Shane had miraculously awakened. His fury when he had learned of the marriage for fortune's sake had led to immediate demands for divorce. Yet, these demands had ceased abruptly when he had discovered Yvonne shared Jayde's bl**d type. From that moment forward, Yvonne had become nothing more than Jayde's living bl**d bank. Determined to make Shane happy, Yvonne had shouldered this burden silently. For two years, she had devoted herself to caring for Shane and his family, striving to embody the perfect wife--until Jayde's false accusation had led to her imprisonment. Ten years--she had loved Shane for ten years. She had given Shane her purest love and most selfless devotion, but what did she get in return? Shane only had eyes for Jayde, his heart perpetually closed to her. Perhaps she had been naive to hope Shane might one day even care about her a little bit. *** Rain poured from leaden skies the day of Yvonne's release from prison. No one had come to pick her up. After a lengthy journey on multiple buses, she arrived at Serenity Villa, Shane's residence, her clothes clinging to her because of the rain. The fingerprint lock granted her entry, and she found Shane descending the staircase when she entered, his appearance impeccable in stark contrast to her disheveled state. Surprise flickered across Shane's features when he saw her. "Why are you back?" he asked. Yvonne's fingers trembled as she replied, "I was released today." "Ah, I forgot." Shane paused briefly before her. "Get some rest. I'm heading out now." "Shane," Yvonne suddenly called out. "I need to talk to you about something." Shane glanced impatiently at his watch. "We can talk when I return." As Shane moved past Yvonne, Yvonne grasped his sleeve to stop him. "It won't take long." Shane halted reluctantly, irritation evident in his expression. "Make it quick." Yvonne studied his perfect profile, a slight smile on her face. "Shane, let's get a divorce," she said, her tone resolute. Shane's confusion was palpable as he turned to face her. "You want a divorce because I didn't pick you up from prison?" "This isn't about today." Yvonne's smile didn't waver. "I genuinely want a divorce. We can handle the paperwork when you're free." "Yvonne, I don't have time for your antics right now." Shane's expression darkened as he shook off her hand. "You should take a shower and clear your head. You are not thinking straight." After Shane's departure, Yvonne stood motionless, lost in thought. Shane thought she was not thinking straight. But that was not true. In fact, her mind had never been clearer. *** Upstairs, Yvonne drew a bath and powered on her fully charged phone. A month's worth of WhatsApp messages awaited her--none from Shane. As she absently scrolled through her feed, she suddenly froze upon seeing something. Jayde had just posted something. "True love is shown through enduring companionship." The accompanying photo showed her beaming at the camera while Shane peeled an apple beside her, the perfect picture of devotion. Chapter 3 I Want You Yvonne blinked. So that was why Shane had been in a rush to leave, not even wanting to talk about the divorce with her. He had been eager to go and spend time with Jayde. A familiar ache seized Yvonne's heart, spreading numbness through her chest. Throughout her two-year marriage with Shane, Yvonne had watched as Jayde paraded Shane's affections across social media. Each post had torn at her heart, yet something had kept drawing her back to look at the posts. Now, finally, she had resolved to end this cycle of torment. Her fingers moved swiftly as she deleted both Shane and Jayde from her WhatsApp contacts. After her shower, Yvonne just finished getting dressed when her phone rang. Shane's name blazed across the screen. Wasn't Shane supposed to be spending time with Jayde now? Why was he calling her? Yvonne hesitated for a moment but eventually picked up the call. "Shane?" "Did you delete Jayde on WhatsApp?" Shane asked. "Yes. What's wrong?" Yvonne replied. "You have the nerve to ask that?" Venom dripped from Shane's words. "Jayde wanted to congratulate you on your release but then discovered you had deleted her. She thought you still resented her. She broke down remembering when you had pushed her down the stairs. Yvonne, when will you stop causing trouble?" His sharp words pierced Yvonne's heart, but she maintained her composure. "Shane, deleting her was my freedom," she said. "You are still talking about your freedom?" Shane's voice grew colder. "She's a patient, Yvonne! She is already stuck in a wheelchair because of you. She is now emotionally fragile. The least you could do is show some compa*sion!" Yvonne's lips curled into a bitter smile as she closed her eyes, forcing her tears back. "If she's as fragile as you say, then it's all the more reason for me to keep my distance. God forbid something happens, and I get blamed again." "Yvonne, don't--" Yvonne didn't let Shane finish. The call ended with a sharp click, and she wasted no time blocking his number. After that, she made herself a simple plate of spaghetti and ate quietly, her thoughts heavy. Then, umbrella in hand, she headed to the cemetery. The rain fell in a quiet drizzle, soaking the earth. Yvonne stood before Maggie's tombstone for what felt like an eternity, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her chest. When she returned to Serenity Villa, it was already evening. Just as she entered, she saw Shane sitting on the living room sofa. Yvonne froze for a moment, caught off guard by his presence. Normally, when Shane was with Jayde, he wouldn't come home until late at night, after Jayde was asleep. Not wanting to delve into Shane's unusual behavior, Yvonne ignored him and headed upstairs. "Stop right there." Shane's voice cut through the quiet like a knife. Yvonne halted but didn't turn around. Shane rose from the sofa and walked to stand before Yvonne, his gaze locking onto hers. "You've grown bold, haven't you? Hanging up on me and even blocking my number?" Yvonne said nothing, her body tense as she tried to walk past him. But Shane grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "I'm talking to you. What's the matter--did prison leave you deaf?" The words stung Yvonne hard, but she met his gaze, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. "Yes, Shane, I've been to prison. My life is already in ruins because of it. Isn't that punishment enough for you?" Shane's brows furrowed as his eyes searched her face. He noticed the puffiness around her eyes, the faint redness. "Have you been crying? Did you go to visit your grandmother's grave?" Yvonne tried hard to hold back her tears. "I wasn't there for her when she needed me the most. Do I need your permission to visit her now?" Shane's expression darkened when he heard that. "Yvonne, the reason I pushed for you to return to prison that day was because I didn't want you to dwell in your grief. It was for your own good." "For my own good?" Yvonne let out a hollow laugh, her bitterness spi*ling over. "Are you even listening to yourself? You can't even lie convincingly anymore, Shane." With a sharp tug, she pulled her wrist free. Her voice was steady now, cold and final. "I'm tired, Shane. Let's just end this. Let's get a divorce." *** Yvonne went to the master bedroom's walk-in closet, dragging out an old suitcase to pack her belongings. She wanted to leave behind everything the Brooks family had given her after the wedding, which left little to take. "Yvonne, stop with your antics!" Shane's exasperated voice cut through the silence. "It was just a year in prison. I made sure you weren't mistreated there. What more do you want?" Yvonne's hands stilled over her clothes as she turned her head to face him. "You certainly ensured I was treated differently. Every meal there was packed with spinach and liver to replenish my bl**d, keeping me ready for the next bl**d transfusion for Jayde." Shane's brow furrowed. "So this circles back to Jayde again. The transfusions saved her life. You work in medicine--you should have some compassion. And I've compensated you generously." "Compassion?" A hollow laugh escaped Yvonne's lips. "Show me one doctor who has bl*d themselves dry for a patient." She gestured toward the wall of luxury handbags--a collection worth hundreds of millions, coveted by countless women. "Is this your idea of compensation? One bag per transfusion. I always get the ones Jayde rejected." Each bag was Jayde's selection, and Shane paid for it. Jayde would claim the ones she preferred, leaving Yvonne with the ostentatious pieces--expensive but impractical for daily use. Yvonne had never requested bags, yet both Shane and Jayde believed exchanging bl**d for luxury bags was a good deal for her. "I won't take a single bag," Yvonne said with a slight smile. "I never agreed to sell my bl**d." Shane massaged his temples. Throughout their marriage, Yvonne had remained compliant--occasionally sulking but never defiant, never speaking to him like this. Shane gripped Yvonne's shoulders, his tone gentling. "I know you're upset after staying in prison for so long. Let's not fight, okay? I asked Zoey to prepare your favorite dishes. Let's go and have a meal together." Yvonne shrugged off his hands, grabbed her suitcase, and moved toward the door. The next second, in one fluid motion, Shane swept Yvonne into his arms. Before Yvonne could resist, she was placed on the soft b*d by Shane. He trapped her hands above her head, his scent surrounding her as he whispered in her ear, "Yvonne, stop being angry, alright? Tonight, I will m*ke l*ve to you until you're satisfied." Yvonne's heart thundered in her chest. Previously, when anger took hold of her, she would always melt under Shane's b*droom tactics, quick to forgive. Shane had found amusement in this pattern. His dominance had always overwhelmed her, pushing her limits until she broke into tears, begging for mercy and agreeing to his every demand. Yvonne shuddered, her body taut as she grasped at her crumbling resolve. Though she struggled against him, Shane seemed determined to draw her into the moment, refusing to release her. Shane muttered, "Yvonne, I want you..." Chapter 4 She Is Pregnant Yvonne fought against the magnetic pull of Shane's touch, forcing herself to bite down hard on her lower lip. The sharp sting anchored her thoughts,she couldn't afford to lose herself in this facade of intimacy anymore, not in a marriage devoid of genuine love. Just then, the shrill ring of a phone pierced the intimate moment. Shane showed no intention of stopping, but the persistent sound quickly disrupted his mood. His eyes darted to the screen, and he let go of Yvonne. The name "Jayde" illuminated the screen, and Yvonne also saw it. History had taught Yvonne the pattern well. Other calls during such moments would be silenced by Shane without hesitation, but Jayde's calls were the exception. Whenever Jayde called Shane, Shane would answer immediately. Shane's voice turned gentle as he answered the call. "I'm at home... She didn't mean anything against you; don't overthink it... Alright, I'll go to see you later..." Yvonne sat up, adjusting her clothes. Her hands trembled as she buttoned her shirt. Shane ended his call and turned to her with an amused smile playing on his lips. "Such haste to dress yourself--are you afraid of what I might do?" Yvonne didn't say anything. "If you want them to stay fastened, join me for dinner downstairs now." Recalling what had just happened, Yvonne acquiesced. Resistance, she had learned, was futile. *** In the dining room, the maid, Zoey Rowe, had already prepared a feast of culinary excellence. "Mrs. Brooks, you have lost so much weight. You need to eat more," Zoey said. Shane's gaze traveled across the table, studying the woman eating before him. Zoey's observation struck a chord--Yvonne's natural slenderness had indeed become more pronounced since her release from prison, her features carrying a new sharpness. Though her beauty remained unchanged, Shane couldn't help but feel like Yvonne had changed somehow. As Zoey transferred a portion of braised beef to Yvonne's plate, the rich aroma triggered an unexpected wave of nausea in Yvonne. She couldn't help but gag. "Mrs. Brooks!" Zoey rushed to pour a glass of water for Yvonne, concern etching her features. "Are you feeling unwell?" "I'm fine." Yvonne regained her composure and rose from her chair. "I'm full now." Shane's appetite vanished as he watched Yvonne leave. Abandoning his meal, he stood up and prepared to leave the house. "Mr. Brooks, you've barely touched your food," Zoey said. "I need to step out." Shane shrugged into his coat, pausing to instruct, "The food in prison is bland--Yvonne's body needs time to readjust. Prepare lighter meals for now." Zoey nodded and replied, "Yes, Mr. Brooks." *** Upstairs, Yvonne had just reached her room when she heard the sound of a car engine from outside. A bitter smile twisted her lips as she contemplated how quickly Shane had abandoned dinner to fulfill his promise to Jayde. It was clear Shane really loved Jayde. Standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Yvonne watched Shane's car disappear into the distance. As she closed her weary eyes, a startling realization jolted them open again--she realized she might be carrying a child. The timing left little room for doubt. That day a month ago, Shane had refused to use protection. Shane had always disliked using protection, so she always took medication afterward. She had planned to purchase preventive medication after visiting Maggie in the hospital that day, but grief had consumed her when Maggie passed away unexpectedly. The pi*ls had slipped from her mind entirely. Thoughts whirled through Yvonne's head like autumn leaves in a storm until clarity finally emerged. She hurried out to purchase a pregnancy test, her heart thundering against her ribs. The two clear lines that appeared finally confirmed her suspicions with stark finality. She just hadn't taken the pi*ls one time. She had not expected to get pr*gnant so easily like this. Yvonne's hand drifted to her lower abdomen, her emotions churning like a turbulent sea. The cruel irony of fate struck her like a physical blow--just as she had steeled herself to end her marriage with Shane, she discovered she was carrying his child. Sleep proved elusive that night, Yvonne's thoughts churning until exhaustion finally claimed her. When she woke up, the sky outside was bright. Shane had not come home the entire night, his side of the bed untouched. After Yvonne made her way down for breakfast, Zoey burst into the dining room, barely containing her excitement beneath a veneer of hesitation. "What has made you so excited?" Yvonne asked, studying Zoey's expression. "Did you win the lottery or something?" "Mrs. Brooks, it's you who has made me excited!" Zoey produced a pregnancy test, her eyes sparkling. "I found this while cleaning. You are pr*gnant! This is wonderful news! Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" Yvonne's silence spoke volumes. "Mrs. Brooks?" Zoey's enthusiasm dimmed. "Aren't you happy about this?" Yvonne stirred her oatmeal slowly. "Zoey, I've already told Shane that I want a divorce." The revelation struck Zoey like lightning. "You want to divorce Mr. Brooks? How could you consider such a thing?" she said. "Why can't I do that?" Yvonne's voice remained steady, masking her inner turmoil. "Haven't you noticed how great Shane and Jayde look together? They are the real loving couple here. I disrupted their relationship, claiming a title that wasn't rightfully mine and forcing them apart." Her lips curved in self-mockery at her foolish dream that Shane might grow to love her one day. Tears welled in Zoey's eyes. "Mrs. Brooks, I know this past year in prison brought you immense suffering. But that chapter has ended. You and Mr. Brooks can build something new together now. Eventually, Mr. Brooks will recognize your worth. Now, with you being pr*gnant, everything could change. Your child deserves a complete family--you can't proceed with the divorce." Yvonne's movements stilled as memories of her own childhood surfaced. Orphaned young, she had been raised by her grandparents. Though her grandparents had given her all the love they could, she had always envied other children who had both their parents. She understood profoundly the importance of giving a child a complete family. "Having children often changes a man's priorities," Zoey said gently. "Fatherhood has a way of grounding men, redirecting their focus to family. For your child's sake, shouldn't Mr. Brooks have a chance to prove himself?" Yvonne nodded slightly. Perhaps Zoey was right--her child deserved a chance at a complete family. If Shane could maintain distance from Jayde, she would bury the past and make her marriage with Shane work. After breakfast, Yvonne took a taxi to the Brooks Group. Few employees knew of her marriage to Shane, so she called Shane's assistant, asking him to escort her to Shane's office. She found Shane engaged in a phone call in his office, his lack of surprise at her appearance suggesting he had grown accustomed to her anger dissipating overnight. The assistant provided Yvonne with a glass of water and then departed. Shane ended his call and looked at Yvonne. "Why didn't you sleep in?" "I've had sufficient sleep." Yvonne pointed at the thermos she had brought. "Zoey asked me to bring the soup to you." "I'll have it later," Shane replied. "Where were you last night, Shane?" Yvonne asked. Shane's response came without hesitation. "Jayde wasn't feeling well and was admitted to the hospital. I stayed with her there." Yvonne's fingers trembled when she heard that. After gathering her courage, she said, "If we had a child, would you spend more time at home?" Shane's brow furrowed. "You want a child now?" "Don't you want a child?" Yvonne asked. Shane lit a cigarette, taking a drag before responding in measured tones, "Yvonne, now is not the right time for us to have a child." Yvonne paused for a moment. "Why?" Shane replied, "Jayde's health has been declining. If you became pr*gnant, you wouldn't be able to donate your bl**d to her." Chapter 5 Leaving With Nothing A glacial chill crept through Yvonne's body, starting at her feet and spreading gradually until numbness claimed every inch of her being. She realized she had been too naive. She had clung to desperate hopes--that she could start a new family with Shane, that Shane might embrace fatherhood as Zoey had suggested, that their unborn child could bridge the growing chasm between Shane and her. But reality had shattered those illusions, revealing a harsh truth: even their child ranked beneath Jayde in Shane's eyes. Yvonne closed her eyes as tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. "I know you don't like Jayde." Shane's patronizing tone cut through the silence. "But her health is genuinely fragile now. Surely you can show some understanding of that." His eyes flickered over Yvonne's tear-stained features as he added, "We can discuss having children once Jayde's health condition improves. There's no need to rush." A bitter smile twisted Yvonne's lips. She knew that if she told Shane now that she was pr*gnant, he would probably drag her to the hospital immediately to terminate the pregnancy. This child represented one of her last remaining familial bonds, and she would never sacrifice it for Jayde's sake. "Of course, I understand that," Yvonne said, brushing away her tears and summoning a weak smile. "Don't let me keep you from your work. I won't bother you any further." She fled Shane's office before he could respond, retreating to Serenity Villa where she hastily packed her belongings, gave Zoey some instructions, and left. Though she had initially planned to seek refuge in a hotel, her uncle's timely call redirected her path to his doorstep. The clock struck ten when Shane returned to Serenity Villa, only to find the master bedroom empty. Yvonne was not there. His attempt to reach Yvonne by phone proved futile, prompting him to go downstairs and summon Zoey. "Where's Yvonne?" he asked Zoey. "Mrs. Brooks has moved out," Zoey replied. "What?" A deep frown etched across Shane's features. "When?" "This morning." Zoey hesitated, the weight of Yvonne's words pressing down on her. Yvonne had told her not to mention anything about her pregnancy to Shane. Otherwise, the baby would be harmed. After a moment, Zoey presented Shane with a document. "Mrs. Brooks left this divorce agreement for you." Shane's eyes swept over the pages, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "Leaving with nothing--she's really something!" "Mr. Brooks appears quite resolute about the decision to divorce," Zoey said. "That's not her choice to make!" Shane yanked at his tie in frustration. "Where has she gone?" "Mrs. Brooks didn't tell me that," Zoey replied. Shane stormed out, barking orders for the driver to ready the car. *** Fresh from her shower in the guest room, Yvonne was about to go to sleep when her phone's ringing pierced the silence. An unknown number flashed across the screen. Yvonne answered the call. "Hello?" "Come downstairs." Shane's familiar, cold voice echoed on the other end of the line. Yvonne's grip on the phone froze for a moment. "I am already in bed." "I will give you ten minutes, Yvonne. If you don't come down in ten minutes, I'll ensure this entire neighborhood gets no sleep tonight," Shane said. The call then disconnected, leaving Yvonne staring at her phone. After a moment's hesitation, she changed and descended the stairs. A black Rolls-Royce was parked outside, with Shane's imposing figure beside it. Maintaining a careful distance, Yvonne spoke with forced composure. "It's late. What do you want?" "You're asking me that? Did you interpret last night's conversation as some kind of joke? You had the audacity to draft divorce papers and vanish?" Shane said. "Get in the car. Come home. We'll forget this ever happened." "Home..." Yvonne let out a bitter laugh. "That place is not my home. If it is, why would my husband spend his nights elsewhere with another woman?" "Back to Jayde again. Can't you stop being so petty?" Shane said. "You think I am being petty? Should I smile while watching your displays of affection? Continue offering my bl**d? Perhaps serve another prison sentence?" Yvonne looked at Shane. "Shane, our marriage was business, but I'm a person--not Jayde's personal bl**d bank." Shane let out a cold chuckle. "You knew the marriage was transactional. You married me for your grandmother's treatment. Now that she's gone, you're eager to leave me. Burning bridges already?" Yvonne replied, "Fine. I'll repay every cent of my grandmother's hospital bills. I won't owe you anything after that." Fury blazed in Shane's eyes. "What did you say?" Yvonne met his rage with a calm expression. "Calculate the total. I'll provide an IOU and repay it in installments. You can decide on the interest." Just as she finished speaking, Shane quickly approached Yvonne. Yvonne barely had time to react before finding herself engulfed in his embrace. His hand gripped her waist as the world tilted, her back meeting the car's cold metal surface. "What are you--" Shane's lips silenced Yvonne's protest, claiming dominance in a breathtaking ki*s that left her gasping. "Unless you want me to have s*x with you right here, get in the car." ...... What happens next? Can Yvonne divorce as she wishes? 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