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2,768,215	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768107}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔥NEW POPULAR READ🔥	“I want a divorce.” I said, but there was no response. “I said I want a divorce.” I repeated louder this time, clenching my fists at my sides. Alpha Dante finally looked up from his desk, staring at me like I had come to throw another tantrum. “You are tired. Go and have a nap or something,” he said dismissively. I bit down on my lips and, in annoyance, slammed the divorce papers I had secretly gathered on his desk. “What is this?” he muttered in irritation, flipping through the papers. “These are the divorce papers. I have my signature already on them. All that’s left is your signature.” His brow furrowed, and his jaw clenched. Then suddenly, he tore the papers into shreds, causing me to gasp. “What… what do you think you are doing? I spent months gathering that… why would you…” “I will not divorce!” His voice thundered, causing me to flinch. He tossed the shredded papers across the room. “You are my wife. The Luna of the Moonshade Pack. How dare you ask for a divorce?” “What more do you want? You’ve caused me nothing but pain for the past three years,” I found myself yelling in anger. “You’ve had your revenge. My father's dead and you took over his pack. What more do you want? Why won’t you let me go? Why…” “It’s not enough!” he cut me off. “Your pain is not enough! You cannot be happy while I am unhappy! You will remain unhappy by my side forever,” he said, now standing, his voice filled with nothing but disdain. I let out a shaky breath. Who was he? This wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with. This wasn’t the man who held me close on cold nights, who whispered sweet nothings in my ear, who promised to protect me from all harm. No, this was a stranger—a monster wrapped in the same familiar body. I shook my head in disbelief, my heart pounding in my chest. How had we come to this? “I, Amaya Blackwood…” “Don’t you dare, Amaya!” he said, taking steps forward while I took more back. “…of the Moonshade pack reject you…” “Amaya!” he yelled, closing the distance as I slammed my back against a wall. His hand gripped my jaw, his red eyes glowing as he stared at me while I glared back at him. “Divorce me, Dante,” I muttered, breathing heavily, but his grip only tightened around my jaw, so tight that it felt like he could actually crush it any moment. “Please… let me go.” “Never!” he growled. “I will never let you go, Amaya. Even if you hate me.” We continued staring at each other, panting heavily, until I looked away. Only then did his grip loosen, and he took a step back. “Now return to your room, and don’t you ever think about something as absurd as divorce again, because it’s never going to happen.” I paused by the door, my grip tightening around the doorknob, but I said nothing. As I was returning to my room, I was so lost in thought that I bumped into someone by the stairs. “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, and when I looked up, I saw that the man I bumped into was Cyrus, the son of my father’s Beta, Vaughn. His father was part of the revolution that had overthrown my father. Unfortunately, before my father was caught, Vaughn was shot in the heart by my father. He did not survive. “Watch where you are going,” he sneered. I lowered my head and continued walking, but then he added, “The Alpha received a marriage proposal.” I froze, gripping the hem of my dress. He continued, “She’s an amazing woman. One of our best warriors. The people love her and approve of them as a couple. Do you know what this means?” He turned to me with a smug look, expecting a disapproving response. Instead, I smiled warmly. “Ah yes, they do seem like a perfect match. I already asked Dante for a divorce, but he refused. You are his close friend. I am sure you would be able to convince him to take the proposal seriously.” His smug look faltered, and he looked at me confused. “You are giving up so easily?” he said, and now I was the one who was confused. “What else can I do? He’s made it clear that I have no say in my own life. If this marriage proposal is what’s best for the pack, who am I to stand in the way?” He frowned, and when he didn’t say anything else, I turned away. When I got to my room, I closed the door behind me and let out a shaky breath as I recalled Cyrus’s words. The pack adored their new Alpha. After all, he had saved them from misfortune. Kara was also everything I wasn’t—strong, beloved, and loyal to the pack. She had fought alongside Dante for the freedom of the pack. It was only natural for them to be together. They were a perfect match, and I was sure the people would pressure Dante to accept. But what did that mean for me? Would I be finally free? No, that wasn’t possible. I was the last remaining royal bloodline of the Moonshade pack. The people hated me. They wanted me gone, and Dante would never let me go. Even if he moved on, he would keep me as a prisoner. I sighed and walked over to the window. My eyes widened for a brief moment when I saw Dante and Kara walking side by side. They were talking about something, and he was smiling. But then it all vanished as he shifted his gaze and his eyes met mine. A shiver ran down my spine, but I couldn’t look away. So we just stared at each other until Kara tugged at his sleeve, urging him to focus on her. He glanced back at her with the same warm smile, and they both walked away. “Should I jump?” was the first thought that came to my head as soon as they were out of sight. I could run as far as my legs could carry me. But where would I go? Who was I kidding? Dante had allies everywhere while I had no one. My parents were gone, their loyal followers were either scattered or dead. I was alone. Chapter 2 I woke up the next morning with a very high fever, but I still managed to get out of bed. Outside my bedroom window, I could hear chants from protesters who wanted me gone from the pack. This had become a routine; they did it every morning until they were chased away by the guards. I got dressed and headed downstairs to join Dante for breakfast. Although I didn’t want to, he had insisted, not giving me much of a choice. So, against my will, I had to see him every morning before he left the packhouse. Today was different, though. Kara was sitting at the breakfast table, smiling as she poured Dante a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Amaya,” she said, as if she wasn’t sitting in my house, at my table, sharing coffee with my husband while I sat at the far end, away from both of them. “Good morning,” I muttered, keeping my eyes down. Dante, on the other hand, didn’t look up. He was busy reading something on his tablet. “Amaya, you look pale,” she added just as I was about to take a bite of my sausage. “Are you not feeling well?” I looked at her, caught off guard. There was no way she would care. That was confirmed when I saw pity in her eyes, and my walls went back up. As if on cue, Dante looked up from his tablet, his gaze meeting mine, waiting for my response. “I…I’m fine,” I muttered. “If you’re fine, stop sulking,” Dante said coldly. “Dante,” Kara scolded. “Why are you being harsh? She doesn’t look well.” “She’s the daughter of a powerful Alpha. I’m sure her wolf will heal her,” he said. And he would be right, except I had lost contact with my wolf as a result of the trauma. It was like she just vanished. Perhaps that was another reason I couldn’t feel the mate bond, and that was why his words hurt less. “But…” Kara tried to insist, but he cut her off. “Fine…I will get the pack healer.” “No, it’s not necessary. It’s just a fever.” I tried taking a bite of the sausage, but the smell made me nauseous, and I put it back down. “Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “Where are you going?” Dante asked. “I’m not hungry,” I replied. Not waiting for his response, I turned and walked out of the dining room. In the corner, I could see some maids giggling as I walked by. I knew it was about me, but I could do nothing but continue walking. Later that evening, Dante informed me I would be joining him for a party. My dress had already been picked out, and all I had to do was be there, in his words. It was difficult walking in heels. I had mentioned this in the past, but I guess he had forgotten—or perhaps he only pretended to care back then. I felt dizzy due to my rising fever, yet I had to shake it off for the sake of this occasion. As soon as we entered, all eyes fell on us. My hand was wrapped around his, and I could feel my grip tightening because of how nervous I was, which was weird because I was always the confident one. When we walked in, a man approached us with a smile and extended his hand to Dante. “Alpha Dante, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said while completely ignoring my presence. “Always good to see you, Mark,” he said, returning the handshake. I stood there awkwardly as the two men continued to talk. The man didn’t even glance in my direction, making me feel like an outsider. After a while, I slowly released my grip and took a small step back, then another, until I had created some distance between us—but I could still hear their voices. “So, Alpha, why didn’t you accept the marriage proposal?” he asked, as if I wasn’t in the room with them. “I’m not sure where that rumor came from. I already have a wife,” Dante said, laughing, catching me off guard. But I quickly reminded myself it was probably just to save face. After a while, the show started, and I was back at Dante’s side. It was a live band playing one of my favorite songs. I closed my eyes as memories from years ago flooded back—when I used to perform on stages, traveling on tours. But after the incident, it felt like I lost my voice. “Luna, didn’t you use to sing?” I heard a voice from among the crowd, and my eyes snapped open. “Yes! Why don’t you sing for us?” another said. “Wait…what…I…” I tried to speak, but they cut me off. “Come on, one song! Don’t be shy. You’ve earned many awards for your singing.” It was true, but right now, I couldn’t. Before I could protest, a woman grabbed my hand forcefully and pulled me to the stage, handing me a mic. I stood in front of the stage, staring at the crowd in front of me. This was nothing compared to the hundreds of people I had sung in front of in the past, but back then, they didn’t look at me with such disdain. “Sing!” They urged, while my heart raced. In the crowd, I could see Dante staring at me expectantly. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I just couldn’t. A sudden wave of dizziness hit me, making my body sway slightly. My skin was burning up, but at the same time, I felt so cold that my fingers were trembling. Gosh, I should have stayed back at home. My head was pounding and my legs felt like they weren’t even mine anymore. “I…I…sorry. I…” I tried to say, but my vision suddenly blurred, and the next thing I knew, the room was tilting. No, I was falling. The last thing I saw was an image of Dante’s wide eyes as he rushed toward me, but everything went black before I could see if he caught me. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed. “Don’t move,” a voice said sternly. It wasn’t Dante’s—it was the pack’s healer. I blinked, watching him mix something in a small bowl. “You collapsed at the party,” he explained, not looking at me. “I can’t believe the Alpha called me for something so trivial. There are people in this pack who genuinely need my help, not…” his words trailed off. I stared at the window. My throat was dry, and my head was aching like crazy. I wanted to close my eyes, but the healer continued muttering. “Honestly, wasting my time on someone who’s probably just fine. It’s not like I have better things to do,” he said, as if I wasn’t lying right next to him. The room fell silent. After a few minutes, the door opened, and Dante stepped in. “What happened?” he asked the healer. “Nothing serious,” the healer said, waving his hand dismissively. “She’s been indoors too much. Likely a mix of stress and low energy. She’ll be fine after some rest and sunlight.” Dante crossed his arms. “She fainted in the middle of a party. That’s not nothing.” But the healer only sighed in frustration. “Alpha, I’ve told you what I think. If you don’t trust my judgment, perhaps you’d like to consult someone else. As I said, she just needs rest.” Dante’s jaw clenched as he thought for a moment. “Leave,” he ordered. The healer wasted no time gathering his things before leaving the room. When the door shut, the room fell silent again. I didn’t dare look at Dante—I was still staring at the ceiling—but I could feel his presence close. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he finally asked. I closed my eyes as the headache worsened. “I’m fine,” I whispered. There was another wave of silence between us until I heard his footsteps retreating, followed by the door closing. Only then did I open my eyes. I managed to sit up and opened my drawer, picking up a bag containing pills. I grabbed the bottled water I always had next to my bed and gulped down the medicine. Without taking this, I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Chapter 3 The next days that followed, I started noticing Dante more often in the house than before. Although we never truly had a proper conversation, he wasn’t yelling like he used to. “My husband has been really cold and distant lately.” I overheard a conversation between two maids while I was walking down the hallway. They were whispering, but I could hear them clearly. “Do you have a child yet?” the older maid asked while the younger one shook her head. “I wanted to wait, but now… I don’t know. Maybe it was a mistake. He’s barely home, and when he is, it feels like we’re strangers.” “Ah, that’s just what happens with newlyweds. Men get restless, but trust me, once you give him a child, everything will change. He’ll return to his loving self. That’s how it’s always been.” I froze upon hearing those words. A child? Was that the answer? But Dante had never asked for one, which is why I never even considered it. But now… maybe… just maybe. That night, I found myself standing in front of Dante’s office, debating whether to knock or not. Just then, the door opened, and he stepped out. He looked surprised when he saw me there. His gaze shifted from my head to my toes. I was wearing a slightly transparent nightgown, but at the last minute, I had thrown a robe over it. “Dante,” I whispered. “Are you busy?” We had done this many times in the past. Whenever he wanted it, he would come to my room. But for the past year, he had stopped coming. I assumed he had grown tired of me. So, I never made a move—until now. “If you are not busy, I was thinking…” I tugged on his shirt, silently praying he wouldn’t reject me. To my surprise, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. My heart pounded in my chest. I reached for the tie of my robe, but before I could even pull it off, his lips crashed onto mine. He gripped me firmly, holding me in place as his mouth moved against mine. It felt like he was desperate. But even then… his kiss felt cold. Before I could even think, his hands were already at the tie of my robe, and it pulled open. It fell from my shoulders, and I stood there in just my nightgown and nothing underneath. He didn’t waste time, grabbing the hem of my nightgown and pulling it over my head. Now I was standing before him, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. His eyes darkened for a brief second before his expression went blank again. “Lie down,” he commanded. Without a second thought, I moved toward the bed, doing exactly what he told me to. The next morning, when I woke up, I was sore all over. Dante wasn’t in the room. He had left that same night as soon as he was done. Gosh, I regretted it instantly. Last night, although filled with pleasure, was emotionless. He didn’t utter a single word or make a single sound. Even when he released inside of me. Nothing. It felt like a machine doing its job, even worse than before. It took me a while to pick myself up and return to my room. And after that day, I saw less and less of Dante. He was always busy with work and even missed our usual morning breakfasts together. Two months passed in the blink of an eye, and nothing really changed. “I want to go to the beach,” I suddenly brought it up during breakfast. “I will arrange for us to go this weekend,” he said, looking at his phone. “No… just me. I want to go alone,” I said, and his eyes instantly snapped up to meet mine. “You want to go alone?” he repeated. “Why? Who do you want to meet?” “Why do you assume I want to meet someone?” I asked, but I was met with a cold glare, causing me to swallow nothing. “I heard your friend is in town.” He was talking about Ryder, my childhood best friend who had confessed his love to me in the past, but I had turned him down to be with Dante. Although I was aware he was in town, he still wasn’t the reason I was going to the beach. “I just want some time alone. I have been locked inside for too long. Didn’t the healer say that I needed more sunlight and fresh air?” I reminded him. He glared at me, then nodded. “Fine, I will make arrangements for a guard to accompany you.” Even though I wanted to argue, I knew it was pointless, so I nodded. That weekend, I went to the beach alone. Well, not alone. The guard was following me but from a distance. I inhaled the salty air and watched the crashing waves. I played in the sand and picked shells, trying to remind myself of the good old days. Sitting on the floor, I thought about Dante again. I missed him—or at least the version of him that I had married. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the guard moving closer. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my back as a knife was plunged deep into my skin. I gasped, and before I could scream, he yanked the knife out, whispering, “The Blackwood family deserves to die.” A shiver ran down my spine, but before I could react, he raised the knife again, preparing to strike. “Hey!” A fisherman spotted us and shouted, rushing towards us and raising alarm. The guard, realizing he had been caught, ran away while I collapsed on the floor, struggling to breathe. “Stay with me, miss,” the fisherman panicked, reaching out for his phone. Ah! He didn’t recognize me. Thank God. If he did, he would have also left me to die. But even that didn’t stop me from losing more blood until I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Dante’s POV I was at a pack meeting when I got the call that Amaya had been stabbed—by not just anyone, but one of my own men. “What?” I barked into the phone, startling the Alphas around me. My heart pounded violently in my chest, and for the first time in years, true fear gripped me. I left immediately, shifting into my wolf and racing toward the hospital. By the time I arrived, I was breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking. The doctor was waiting for me. “The wound was deep,” he started. “She lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month for her to fully recover.” I frowned. “A month?” That didn’t make sense. With her wolf, she should be healed in a week at most. “There’s… something else.” The doctor hesitated. “Spit it out,” I growled. “Your wife was weeks pregnant, Alpha… but she lost the child due to the trauma.” Everything stopped. A ringing in my ear drowned out all other sound, and my eyes turned red. The doctor’s mouth was still moving, but I couldn’t hear him. Pregnant? Amaya was pregnant? My body moved before I could think, and I grabbed the doctor by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “You’re lying,” I snarled, my claws digging into his chest while my wolf howled in agony, wanting to break free. “She wasn’t pregnant! She would have told me!” “It’s still in the early stages… she must not have—” “She did this on purpose, didn’t she?” I cut him off. “She didn’t tell me because she planned to leave! She was going to run off with Ryder, wasn’t she?” I couldn’t think straight. This was Amaya’s fault. She had been distant, she wanted to go to the beach alone. She had let her guard down… I shoved the doctor away and turned, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my skin. When she woke up, I confronted her about the news, but she just stared at me, emotionless like she usually did. Even now, she felt no remorse. She didn’t shed a single tear, and that annoyed me. I gritted my teeth and stormed out of the room. The guard who had stabbed her was still on the run, so after she was discharged, I had her quarantined in her room. She wasn’t allowed to step out for anything, but just in case, I stationed two guards outside and monitored the maids going in and out of her room. All her meals and drinks had to go through me before they reached her. I wasn’t taking any chances. If she wanted to act emotionless, fine. But I wasn’t going to let her make another mistake—wasn’t going to let her run away or get the freedom she wanted because of her reckless decisions. For days, she barely spoke. She ate without complaint, bathed, and slept as if nothing had happened. Her indifference made me angry. Did she not care that she had lost our child? As for the guard who had stabbed her, I personally hunted him down. Kneeling before me, covered in dirt and blood, he trembled as he dared to meet my gaze. His lips quivered as he spoke. “I was doing you a favor, Alpha,” he choked out. “The Blackwood… they all deserve to die. She’s a—” I snapped his neck before he could finish. Though I felt I should have tortured him, should have made him suffer, I couldn’t waste another second on a traitor who thought he had the right to decide my fate. Wiping the blood off my hands, I turned to my men. “Burn his body. Let it be a warning to anyone else who dares to defy me.” They bowed their heads in obedience, dragging the corpse away. That night, I headed straight to her room unannounced to deliver the news. She was sitting by the window, staring at the moon, and didn’t turn around when I entered. “He’s dead,” I said. She didn’t respond. I clenched my fists, stepping closer. “I hunted him down myself. Snapped his neck like the traitor he was.” Still nothing. My jaw tightened. “Is that all you’re going to do? Just sit there and stare at moon like nothing happened?” Finally, she turned her head slightly. I flinched when I saw the emptiness in her eyes—she looked like a living corpse. “What do you want me to say, Alpha?” “You lost our child,” I growled, taking another step forward. “And you sit here as if you feel nothing.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? You already decided this was my fault.” I scoffed. “Isn’t it?” She lowered her head. “Of course. Everything is always my fault.” My blood boiled, and I grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet. “Don’t play games with me.” “Then let go.” I gritted my teeth, staring down at her, but then my eyes widened when my gaze reached her fingers—I saw her ring was missing. “Your ring… You took it off.” She looked at her hand, and when she saw it wasn’t there, she muttered, “Oh.” Oh. Just an oh. Even though I hated her, I never took off my ring. It was the only reminder of what we once shared. “That’s it?” I snarled. “You take off our bond like it meant nothing, and all you can say is ‘oh’? If you hated me this much, you should have just left.” Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “Didn’t I try?” “You—” “But you wouldn’t let me, so why are you surprised? You chained me to you. Did you really think a ring would change that?” “That’s enough,” I said, shutting my eyes and shoving her back onto the bed. I took a step back, running a hand through my hair. “Put the ring back on.” “No.” “That wasn’t a request.” “I can’t, because I didn’t take it off. It must have fallen off somewhere at the beach,” she said, turning back to face the window. “I will go search for it,” I said, stepping back and running my hand through my hair. She didn’t answer. “Go to bed.” I clenched my jaw, and without another word, I left, slamming the door behind me. Chapter 5 Dante POV Five Years Ago – Flashback “Did you sleep well?” I asked, running my fingers through Amaya’s silky hair as her head rested on my lap. “No,” she pouted, turning her face up to look at me. I smirked, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “And why is that, princess?” She huffed dramatically. “Because you weren’t there.” It had only been a short mission—three days at the border—but she acted as if I had been gone for months. I chuckled, trailing my fingers down her jaw. “I told you I’d come back.” “You’re always leaving,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And one day, you won’t.” My smirk faltered. Amaya was the Alpha’s only daughter, raised in the safety of the packhouse, protected like an egg. She had never known real war, real danger. And yet, she feared losing me more than anything. I gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I will always come back to you.” She blinked, her emerald eyes searching mine for a moment before she whispered, “Promise?” I leaned down, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I swear it.” A small smile tugged at her lips, but I could still see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn’t like my life as a soldier, didn’t like the bloodshed or the risks. But she loved me enough to endure it. “Come with me next time,” she said, catching me off guard. I raised a brow. “What?” “On your next mission,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “I want to see what it’s like.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.” She scowled. “Why not?” “Because you’re the Alpha’s daughter,” I reminded her. “And your father would have my head if I let you anywhere near danger.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, Dante.” “No, but you’re my princess,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her palm. “And I won’t let anything happen to you.” She sighed in frustration but didn’t argue further. Instead, she curled up against me, resting her head on my chest. “Then don’t take so long next time,” she whispered, and I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and honey. End of Flashback Ding! Ding! My phone vibrated, startling me out of my sleep. My neck was sore as I had dozed off at my desk. Glancing at my phone, I saw a message from Amaya. I frowned. “I’m sorry.” I scoffed. Sorry? She was apologizing? She should have done that sooner and made things easier for both of us, but she just had to be so stubborn. I picked up my pen to continue signing some documents. But then 10 minutes passed and I found myself just flipping the pages. “She never apologizes,” Mako, my wolf, said, and my hand froze. It was true. Amaya had never been one to admit when she was wrong, even in the past. She had always been proud, but more than that, she had always been distant, keeping her emotions hidden. Something wasn’t right. I immediately grabbed my phone to call her, but the line went straight to voicemail. I got up from my desk and sped past the hallway. There was no way she would have run away. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t… she couldn’t. When I got to her room, I saw two guards standing outside. “Has she left her room?” was the first thing I asked. “No, Alpha. In fact, she has been asleep for a while now. Told us not to disturb her,” one of them replied, and I sighed in relief. Well, that was good. At least she was actually apologizing, but why did I still feel uneasy? She hadn’t left. She was still here. But why wasn’t she answering me? I opened the door, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw her lying in her bed. I breathed another sigh of relief. “Something feels off,” Mako said. I walked closer to her and bent down beside her bed. When I touched her, her skin was cold, causing me to catch my breath. “Amaya,” I whispered, shaking her, but there was no response. “Amaya!” I shouted, shaking her harder, but still, no response. She wasn’t waking up. “No,” I whispered, backing away as my gaze shifted around the room, trying to pinpoint why—until it landed on her nightstand. My blood ran cold when I saw them. Scattered pills. Not one. Not two. Dozens. And they were all empty. My body froze as everything came crashing down. No… I stumbled back and rushed to her, shaking her violently this time. “Amaya! Wake up!” My hands were shaking as I checked the pulse in her wrist. I felt a pulse… but it was weak. Too weak. I turned to the guards at the door. “Get the healer! Get the doctor, NOW!” I watched the hours tick by as the healer worked on Amaya’s unconscious form. I stood by her bedside, clenching my fists while my wolf paced recklessly in my mind. “She’s stable,” the healer finally said, wiping sweat from his brow. “But her body is weak. It will take time before she wakes up, so she must be monitored closely.” I barely heard the last part before he bowed and left, leaving just the two of us alone. Right now, she looked so pale… like a ghost. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before. I grabbed her wrist, feeling her faint pulse. “Look what you’ve done,” I muttered. How dare you try to leave me? “Isn’t this what you wanted?” Mako taunted. “Our mate almost died. Aren’t you supposed to be happy? You wanted this, didn’t you?” No. I shook my head. My breathing was becoming heavier, so I had to step back, but I almost stumbled. “I didn’t want her dead. I just… I just wanted her to suffer by my side.” She can’t leave me. Never. I won’t let that happen.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	2,500	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	getokn.com	VIDEO		https://getokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=18708&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/t39.35426-6/481033005_1227840655379189_5006614927423896967_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CZfBOJp3apIQ7kNvgFGgMJ9&_nc_oc=AdgaL7R8Biw1sOM8Zeg-uz-NViVZkGGK86PHaRO_1seVKvx67GpW-bnw5qWMSXV-XgmBFQWwZX1yJuKWR7el5slR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AaSfxIdAJRx6D-rr47t5buD&oh=00_AYCkGLE1TF1kRL5YCUTXFtG3iblEBcsGuo1I5DtHhjR9xw&oe=67CC3A2E	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,541	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768617}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔥🔥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	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/477380273_601596272738910_3100987987434729636_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tAWVNovBhvgQ7kNvgGY4I7G&_nc_oc=AdjW_YVLpMcZYFxzpvNYSqtiEWh2RS2oxBl_PDHX1Rp1S3p8iLZudBy-cKQrzcYSsfWnNdksMEdQQDLvtFntfYy0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHmPEKmaNsN1nmK0UUYQsqZ&oh=00_AYDrGrXe_l1nVuv2xshis8rBq-wHjx_FGzC-hlJPNStoPg&oe=67CC2337	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,543	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767523}'	No	2025-03-03 18:56	active	2790	Exam + X-Rays and 1st Nerve Pain Relief Treatment just $49	Suffering from burning, tingling, itching, numbness, pins-and-needles in the foot, hands and legs? If “yes” chances are nerve damage is to blame... and it threatens to take over your life… but it doesn’t have to be that way! We can now effectively treat and relieve the symptoms of many cases of chronic nerve damage… WITHOUT endless medications. That means you can finally get back to normal and live pain-free! Click now to learn more and sign up for a 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐄𝐱𝐚𝐦, 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰, 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐗-𝐑𝐚𝐲 (𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝), 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐢𝐟 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞) – 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 $𝟒𝟗! 👉 𝗠𝗮𝗷𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝗱𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗥𝗮𝗽𝗶𝗱 𝗡𝗲𝘂𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺. 👇Click “Sign Up” Today 👇 Serving Salem and all surrounding areas. Oregon Medical Centers 2515 Liberty ST NE Salem, OR 97301 971-328-4067	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	Oregon Medical Centers	https://www.facebook.com/61555175677050/	39	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up	fb.me	VIDEO	⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 4.7 (205+)	http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/480926361_2939850636191350_5340458570695848783_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1HT0y0cLPqcQ7kNvgFm6MsJ&_nc_oc=AdjrPmgBsAhGTXWul6hon5ocWW81sbF2FPBBjP2tTX0t7TqxoYBkZrjC_m7vaNOMF9Vff0qAdp_Vw9qdgknbyx2G&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A7jxxoUbIB9jbng04IGjl8d&oh=00_AYAIYsBh5SME4r8QoAKPlWGxBfancWaLURrn7TSPsEUf9A&oe=67CC1D28	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Oregon Medical Centers	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,114	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768222}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"I've been watching you since you arrived," this mysterious man whispered in my ear. "You're so beautiful!" "You're kind. But you're not from around here, are you?" He had a powerful presence, radiating authority. "No. A friend convinced me to come to this party." "Looks like we have something in common - my friends convinced me to come too." "Lucky me!" "And why's that?" I smiled. "Because I was captivated the moment I saw you. You're stunning." As he whispered in my ear, I got goosebumps, feeling my face flush and my body tingle - he truly had me enchanted. "Even with the mask?" "Even with the mask! You're too beautiful." "You're such a charmer." "You think I'm charming?" "You know you are. And handsome too." "I'm glad you like what you see." "And what do you do for a living, handsome?" - I felt a bit dizzy, not sure if it was from the drink or the delicious cologne that man was wearing. I ended up stumbling over my own feet. "Are you okay?" "I think I need some air." "Come with me." - He pulled me into a dark hallway that led to an emergency exit and started fanning my face. - "I really want to kiss you. May I?" - I nodded yes. He looked into my eyes, held the back of my neck, and our lips met. It started slow but deepened; he pressed me against the wall, and the kiss intensified even more, almost taking our breath away. When he broke the kiss so we could breathe, we looked into each other's eyes - it was like throwing gasoline on fire. He ran his hand down my waist to my leg and pulled my leg up to his waist. I was completely surrendered by then, feeling his body against mine. I went crazy with desire and pulled him closer, wrapping my leg around his waist. "You're a great kisser!" - I smiled at him and felt my whole body tingle. "Oh, beautiful, you're incredible. I want you so badly, here, right now!" - he said between kisses and slipped his hand under my dress, pulling it up and reaching my underwear. I was on fire when he put his hand inside my underwear and yelled. - "Oh! So delicious! So hot, so wet!" - He said and kissed me harder while unzipping his pants. With a quick movement, like someone who had done this before, he tore my underwear and caressed my entrance, as if asking for permission. He looked into my eyes again and asked: "What do you want me to do?"	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17966&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/t39.35426-6/475851687_643830321404644_7932451981259578691_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bsngoA2RSlEQ7kNvgFngk3E&_nc_oc=Adi8z0O-c-vyZaTpLZylsW4K1ZVuRAQgtCKhuOHipwT5dKRKLaDJN09-eWf-oXmAw3H60jOC1_wA9yLhiQ3GcXKH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AliTxMIkm2fpgE_S1c5xO8j&oh=00_AYDyeR3u0LKyffF5ONtVJJfKVaozAT_pqI2DUNofU_iqeA&oe=67CC1F31	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,129	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768212}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	😍Read the next chapters👉	[Mrs. Gardner, are you sure you want to hire our team to stage a fire and fake your death in ten days?] Camellia Shaw paused for a moment. Just as she was about to reply to the message, a video call suddenly popped up. "Camellia, look! Andres is spending a fortune on you again!" The video was of an auction in progress. At the front, a man of striking elegance and charm was decisively bidding on several antique collectibles worth hundreds of millions. The crowd was already abuzz with excitement. "Mr. Gardner is so good to his wife! He bought all these antiques just to make her smile!" "$400 million is nothing! I heard Mr. Gardner even built her a private estate and named it Eterna Haven. Just the name alone is proof of how much he loves her." A wealthy businessman nearby sneered. "It's all for show. Who knows what he's really like behind closed doors?" That comment immediately sparked a wave of backlash. Many argued back, talking about how devoted Andres Gardner was to his wife. "If anyone in our circle could make me believe in love, it would be those two." "Mr. Gardner had risen to fame as a genius young painter, but it was his masterpiece, 'Beyond the Ordinary,' that made him a household name. "He once said his wife was his muse and source of inspiration. You can see his affection for her in every stroke and in every shadow of his paintings." As she listened to their murmurs, Camellia forced a bitter smile. She and Andres had entered an arranged marriage to merge their powerful families, meeting for the first time at the county clerk's office. Her family had never given her much love, so she assumed her marriage would be just as emotionless. However, Andres unexpectedly showered her with a special kind of affection. He remembered her peanut allergy and lactose intolerance, and he always prepared exquisite, expensive gifts for her birthday. Her heart softened over time. She even took him to visit her late mother's grave. Andres had solemnly vowed in front of the gravestone, "Mom, I swear that if I ever betray Cam, may I lose the one I love the most." Camellia laughed bitterly to herself. When did things start to change? Perhaps it was when she learned about his first love, who had passed away long ago, and found out he had taken in her younger sister to care for her. Maybe it was the day Valentina Dawson returned from abroad, throwing herself into his arms with a familiar intimacy he did not even try to refuse. Perhaps it was the faint lipstick stains on his shirt and the barely visible bite marks on his collarbone... That was when Camellia could no longer lie to herself. "Mr. Gardner, can you tell us if these are birthday gifts for Mrs. Gardner?" The question from the video snapped her back to the present. Andres' clear and steady voice rang out from the phone, "No, these are just small trinkets. I've prepared something far better for her birthday." This response drew envious gasps from the wealthy socialites watching. As Camellia prepared to end the call, she caught fragments of teasing voices in the background. "Andres, are you really planning to throw a grand wedding for Camellia in ten days?" "Of course. Anything to do with Camellia is a top priority. Make sure it's perfect!" "Understood. So… should we invite her to Val's celebration tomorrow night?" "No need. Don't let her find out." After that, Camellia could not hear anything else that Andres said. She hung up the call, staring at the message asking for her final decision. Slowly but firmly, she typed out her reply. [I'm sure.] Chapter 2 Not long after, Andres rushed home, looking travel-worn. Camellia wobbled slightly when she stood up—perhaps because she had not eaten all day—but Andres firmly caught her. "You didn't eat properly again today, did you?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as he gently scooped her into his arms. As they drew close, the sweet, cloying scent of fruit filled the air. Camellia never used perfume, so it was obvious who the scent belonged to. "What are you thinking, baby?" Andres teased while tapping her nose affectionately. Camellia's sharp eyes caught a faint red lipstick stain on his finger. On the second day of their marriage, Andres had secretly tattooed a camellia on his ring finger. He had told her that the ring finger had a blood vessel that led directly to the heart. This was a symbol of their shared bond and how she would always be connected to his heart, but that spot now bore a mark that did not belong to her. A dull pain rose in her chest. It was heavy and piercing, like a sharp blade chiseling away bit by bit. "Are you starving yourself so much you've lost your braincells?" Andres joked, kissing her forehead lightly before asking Eva Longford to serve the food that had been kept warm for dinner. Andres used to cook for her himself every day. However, some time into their marriage, his work grew busier, and the task naturally passed to the housekeeper. "Let me join you for dinner, okay? Skipping meals can really mess up your stomach," he said while carefully setting her down on a dining chair and placing the utensils by her hand. Then, he washed his hands and began peeling apples for her. "Okay," Camellia murmured, swallowing the bitterness in her heart and eating the food he placed on her plate in small bites. They had not been eating for long when Andres' phone began ringing incessantly. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned slightly before wiping his hands and stepping aside to take the call. When he returned, his expression was frantic. "Cam, something came up at the studio. I have to go handle it. Don't wait up for me tonight. You should go to bed early." He grabbed the antiques he had bought earlier. He promised to get her something even better another day and left in a rush. Once the meal was completely cold, Camellia finally stood up and went upstairs. As soon as she lay down, she scrolled through Valentina's latest post on social media. [I only had a low fever, but my boyfriend insisted on taking care of me. He even made me a table full of delicious food. Do you know how special a meal made for you by a loved one is?] The accompanying picture showed a close-up of a man in an apron cutting vegetables. As a rising name in the art world, Valentina had tens of thousands of followers on her account. The post caused a stir among her fans. [So this is the senior of hers with a nine-figure insurance policy on his right hand that Val mentioned!] [Where can I find a man like this? Can the government issue one to everyone, please?] Camellia stared at the hands in the photo and thought of Andres' promises. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, leaving it shattered and unrecognizable. [That's nothing! Our Mr. Gardner is the gold standard for a devoted husband!] Someone had uploaded a video of the auction from earlier that day, and the buzz quickly overtook Valentina's post. [Damn, he really spoils his wife! $400 million! That's enough to buy my entire life hundreds of times over!] [Oh my God! Has anyone not been overwhelmed by Mr. Gardner's love for his wife yet? When his wife had a car accident and was scared, he risked his life to make sure he was the first person she saw when she woke up!] [Mr. Gardner is like a saint in our elite circle. He still wears the rosary beads Camellia gave him, perfectly polished from years of use. He never takes them off!] Valentina's fans went quiet under the video. Compared to Andres' public displays of devotion, a single meal could not measure up. However, a newly-registered user suddenly posted three photos. One showed the transfer of ownership for an Aurelia winery, another depicted a necklace worth $200 million called ‘The Heart of the Ocean’, and the last featured Valentina holding car keys while sitting on the hood of a Ferrari. The user captioned it: [If someone else has it, our Val can't be without it.] Fans exploded in praise, calling her senior powerful and declaring him on par with Andres. Just then, a text message from an unsaved number came through to Camellia's phone. "You absolutely can't miss the celebration my senior is throwing for me tomorrow night!" Though she did not say anything, Camellia could almost hear Valentina's smugness. The message ended with the address of the venue. 742, Ocean Middle Road, Camellia Street. It was the restaurant where Camellia and Andres had their first meal together. He had promised her it would always remain closed to the public, so it would belong only to the two of them. Camellia stared at the address until her eyes stung. Her hand slipped, and the phone dropped onto her face. The sharp pain from the impact pushed her over the edge, and the tears she had been holding back spilled silently into the darkness. Chapter 3 Andres did not return home all night. Camellia ended up sitting alone in the empty living room, waiting from early morning until noon. Her phone buzzed with a social media notification. [Renowned artist Andres Gardner stands in support of his junior. What a deep camaraderie between peers!] Camellia let out a bitter laugh. Of course he did. She stopped waiting and went alone to visit her mother's grave. She bought a bouquet of lisianthus on her way over. At the cemetery, she carefully cleaned her mother's tombstone, placed the flowers in front of it, and leaned gently against the stone. It was as if she was trying to feel the warmth of her mother's embrace. Andres returned home late at night. Just as he was about to ask why Camellia had not gone to bed yet, he noticed a bundle of lisianthus peeking out of her bag. It suddenly hit him that today was her mother's death anniversary. Panic flashed across his face. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I've been so busy today that I completely forgot. It's all my fault," he stammered, cupping her face and instinctively stroking the beauty mark at the corner of her eye. Camellia noticed the faint trace of a lipstick mark on his hairline just behind his ear. She gently pushed him away, her voice calm as she said, "It's fine." Trying to ease the tension, Andres suggested, "How about we have an artist paint a portrait of us tomorrow? Once it's done, we can take a photo with it and place it at your mother's grave to give her peace of mind." Camellia wanted to refuse, but Andres was insistent, so she reluctantly agreed. The next morning at ten, the artist he had arranged for arrived. "Nice to meet you, Cam. I'm Valentina Dawson, Andres'… junior." Seeing Valentina, Andres' face betrayed a flicker of unease. Clearly, she was not the artist he had called. "Mr. Wilson had something come up, so I'm filling in for him," Valentina explained, her gaze sweeping over Camellia with a faint, inscrutable smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you look a lot like my sister, Cam?" she asked. "My sister had a beauty mark in the exact same spot as yours. The only difference is that hers was real, while yours… is drawn on." The room fell silent. Andres' expression darkened as he snapped, "Val, that's enough. "No one is more important to me than Camellia," he said firmly. Valentina blinked in surprise, then playfully stuck out her tongue at him. "Alright. I was just joking." She hooked one arm around Camellia's and led her toward the studio. With her other hand, she reached behind, tracing lazy circles on Andres' palm. Her gaze was sultry and inviting. "Andres, you're standing all wrong," she complained moments after starting the painting. Setting her brush down, she stood up and walked over to him. She caressed his face with one hand while the other trailed down his chest. Her fingers brushed over his Adam's apple, then came to rest on his shoulder. Leaning in close, she breathed warm air into his ear. "Why so tense, Andres?" His eyes darkened instantly. Camellia caught a glimpse of their interaction from the corner of her eye. Pain stabbed through her chest, and she forced herself to look away. Barely a few minutes later, Valentina suggested that Camellia's pose was not intimate enough. "Let me show you how it's done, Cam," she said with a sly smile. She pushed Camellia aside and tugged Andres forward by his tie. Her full figure pressed against his chest as her thumb brushed deliberately over the corner of his lips. Finally, she left a bold kiss on his mouth. Turning to Camellia, she tilted her head with a brazen expression. "Do you get it now, Cam?" When he saw Camellia's reaction, Andres quickly explained, "In the art world, we're a bit more… uninhibited." Camellia said nothing, merely clenching her trembling hands to keep herself composed. She excused herself to the bathroom, needing to escape. When she returned, muffled sounds from inside the room made her stop in her tracks. "Andres, no… You're going to ruin me," a woman's voice purred breathlessly. As she peeked inside, Camellia saw Valentina with one leg wrapped around Andres' lean waist. Her back was pressed against the windowsill, and she was moving in rhythm with him. Andres' eyes burned with passion as he kissed her fiercely. "You came all the way to my house! Wasn't this what you wanted?" he growled. Chapter 4 Camellia collapsed at the doorway of the studio, tears streaming down her face. She thought she was strong enough to endure anything, but witnessing this scene shattered her heart. She did not know how much time passed before she heard the rustling sound of clothes being put on from inside the room. Andres came to the bathroom looking for her and froze when he saw her red, swollen eyes. "Baby, why are you crying?" he asked. Camellia shook her head. "It's nothing. I accidentally got soap in my eyes." He let out a sigh of relief and playfully pinched her cheek. "You're still such a little troublemaker," he teased. When the painting was nearly finished, Andres was called away by his agent. With him gone, Valentina dropped the act entirely. "I know you saw it, Cam. Well, what can you do about it? Andres seems to love me more than you." She unbuttoned her shirt, revealing bruises on her skin. "When's the last time you were with him? Was it as passionate as just now? Can you even satisfy him?" Valentina stepped closer, her gaze condescending. She seemed to relish the idea of seeing Camellia break down, and she looked was expecting pain or hysteria. However, Camellia's expression remained calm and even unreadable. Underneath, her heart was shattered into countless pieces, leaving her barely able to breathe. After Valentina left, Camellia wandered aimlessly back to the studio. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at the paintings. Without turning on the light, she stumbled up to the third floor. She ended up twisting her ankle in the dark. Even so, the sharp pain from her ankle was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Every painting that was celebrated by the public as symbols of her and Andre’s ‘perfect love’ now stared back at her. Each prominently featured the beauty mark that now felt like a mocking lie. Camellia pulled a craft knife from the penholder and slashed through the beauty marks in each painting one by one. With every cut, she severed another piece of the beautiful memories she once shared with Andres. When Andres returned home, Camellia had already freshened up and was lying in bed, ready to sleep. He barged into the bedroom, carrying a keyboard from his study in one hand and takeout from her favorite restaurant in the other. Without hesitation, he dropped the keyboard onto the floor, knelt on it, and faced her. "Honey, I know what happened today upset you. I've already reprimanded Val," he said earnestly. "I only think of her as a younger sister. She's still immature and doesn't know any better. As for her sister… That ended a long time ago. Besides, she's not even here anymore. "If you don't like it, I swear I won't see her again. But no matter how angry you are, please don't ruin your health by skipping meals…" The man who had been utterly consumed with Valentina earlier that day was now kneeling humbly before her, his tone desperate and full of affection. It was as if he could not live without her. For a moment, Camellia could not tell which version of Andres was real. If he loved her so much, how could he forget the vows he once made? If he loved her so much, why did he betray her? As Andres passed a dish toward her, he accidentally creased a page in the book lying on the bedside table. Camellia glanced over, and he casually smoothed it out and closed the book. "I fixed it. Now, eat," he said with a smile. The familiar aroma of the dish wafted from the bowl. Camellia took a few bites before saying, "But once a page is creased, it can never be perfectly smooth again." Andres, who was already sensitive about the day, tensed at her words. He knew it carried a deeper meaning. "Then I'll buy a new book. It'll be as good as new," he said, his bright eyes fixed on her. It was like his entire world revolved around her. "I'd pluck the stars from the sky for you if you asked." Camellia stayed silent, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Even if he had bought a new one, it would only be a replacement—it would no longer be the same book. She understood this truth, and he should have understood it even more. The two spent the night in silence. Over the next few days, perhaps out of guilt, Andres canceled all his work and stayed glued to Camellia's side. One day, he accompanied her to restore artifacts, buying a few antique treasures worth millions. The next day, he took her shopping and bought her an entire collection of the season's limited-edition items. The day after, he somehow got his hands on a pink Rolls-Royce Cullinan, parking it dramatically at the entrance of Eterna Haven in the city center as a grand gesture of love. This display led to a wave of online ridicule, with netizens mocking Andres' for being wrapped around his wife’s finger. Andres posted a self-deprecating tweet with a picture of himself kneeling on a keyboard. [I made my wife mad. How do I fix this if nothing works?] Only then did people realize Andres' predicament, with many pleading for Camellia to forgive him. With two days left until Camellia's birthday, she still had things to take care of. Seeing Andres' desperate efforts, she decided to go along with it and let the matter drop. Andres was overjoyed, lifting her in his arms and spinning her around several times. "Baby, I love you more than anything in this life! You’re my only love!" On the way to dinner, Andres received several phone calls. The number flashing on the screen was one Camellia knew well—Valentina's. He declined the calls four times before finally receiving a message. When he opened it, a single glance made his expression falter. "Baby, my agent says there's an issue with the new painting contract. I need to handle it right away," Andres said apologetically. Camellia did not call out his lie and let him leave. She then bought a baseball cap and mask from a roadside shop and hailed a car to follow him. She trailed him into a mall and all the way to her once-favorite bridal boutique. The dressing room curtain opened, and there stood Valentina, radiant in the wedding dress Camellia had loved most. "Do I look beautiful, Andres?" Valentina asked. She reached out, her hand sliding from Andres' shoulder, tracing his Adam's apple, and stopping just shy of his lips in a teasing caress. Andres' eyes darkened. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply. Both of them were breathless by the time they pulled apart. Valentina curled into Andres' chest, tracing lazy circles on it with her finger. "Andres, if Cam finds out I wore this dress first, she'll probably lose it," she murmured. Andres' breathing grew heavier as he pulled her into the dressing room and drew the curtain shut. "She won't know. I owe you a wedding, and it's my fault you've been wronged," he replied. "Today, you're my most beautiful bride." With those words, the sound of running water filled the dressing room, accompanied by intimate whispers. Chapter 5 Camellia stood in a distant corner, watching through the gap in the dressing room curtains as Valentina and Andres’ entwined figures moved. Her heart twisted in unbearable pain. Her stomach churned violently, and she could not suppress the urge to dry heave. Her entire body was now convulsing uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her face, draining all her strength. She collapsed onto the floor, feeling utterly spent. As she turned to leave, she did not get to see the satisfied smile on Valentina's face inside the dressing room. Back home, the oppressive silence was suffocating. Camellia turned on the television, flipping to a random channel. It was broadcasting a segment on Andres' latest art exhibition. The painting featured a girl in a bright yellow dress running freely through a field. The commentators remarked on how drastically different this piece was from Andres' earlier works. It no longer exuded a soft, reserved gentleness but instead brimmed with vitality and energy. Though the girl's face was not visible, her back displayed the painter's tenderness and love for her. One critic observed sharply, "Even the strands of her flying hair are perfect, like the wind itself favors her." Online, viewers joked about Andres' newfound spark, saying his marriage with Camellia must have entered a second spring. Only Camellia knew the truth. That was not her. It was Valentina, or perhaps it was Nelina Dawson, the woman from his dreams. Taking a deep breath, she tried to suppress the ache in her chest and called her best friend, Penelope Hall. While waiting for Penelope's arrival, Camellia began sorting through the gifts Andres had given her over the years. In the first year of their marriage, he noticed her concerns and gave her a diamond bangle. "I've locked you in for this lifetime. You belong to me now, so don't even think about leaving," he had said. In their second year, he noticed how much she missed her mother and folded her a jar of wishing stars. "When you miss your mom, open one. No matter where I am or what time it is, I'll come back to make your wish come true. This life might be long, but I'll always be here with you." Camellia began unwrapping the stars one by one. [Plant a little tree.] [Adopt a corgi.] [Grow old together.] … She picked up her phone, snapped a picture of one of the stars, and sent it to Andres. Her phone screen remained dark. There was no response from him. Half an hour later, a package arrived. It was the painting Valentina had made for them that day. However, instead of depicting the two of them sitting side by side, the image showed two entangled figures of Andres and Valentina in bed. Something cold slid down Camellia's cheek. She raised her hand to wipe it away and realized her face was already soaked with tears. In a daze, she placed the painting with all of Andres' other works in the studio. Then, she gathered every gift he had ever given her into a box, carried it into the yard, and set it ablaze. Later, Penelope would recall the moment she saw Camellia that day. She felt as if Camellia was on the verge of breaking into pieces. Penelope walked over and held her close without saying a word, letting Camellia lean on her silently. After a long while, once Camellia calmed down, she made another request. "Help me arrange a funeral. But Andres must not attend it. Only then, reveal the truth about my 'death' to him." Camellia handed Penelope an envelope containing evidence of Valentina's relentless provocations over the past few months. Penelope glanced through it and nodded firmly while suppressing her anger. Once everything was set, it was already late at night. That day, Andres quietly slipped into the house at 2 a.m. Seeing Camellia still awake did not surprise him. He approached her like a child with a prize, his eyes brimming with excitement. "I knew you'd still be up. I was too busy earlier to check my messages, but look—I'm here to make your wish come true!" He moved the small tea table by the window to the bed, fetched two bowls, and divided the seafood boil he had brought home into portions. The wish on the paper star Camellia had sent to Andres earlier in the day was to eat her favorite food with him. For some reason, Camellia's mind wandered back to the first time they went to that seafood restaurant together. It might have been Andres' first time eating at a small roadside restaurant. Before eating, he had wiped the oily table repeatedly with napkins and was clearly uncomfortable. However, he smiled at her with mock innocence when she looked his way, almost playfully. "Cam, feed me," he had said. "I'll try anything if it makes you happy." "Andres." Camellia fixed her gaze on his face. "If you could do it all over again, would you still choose this?" Andres did not think much of her question and assumed she was feeling insecure again. He gently stroked her dark hair and answered with certainty. "I would. I'd make the same choices every time. "I'd love you, spoil you, and stay devoted to you for the rest of my life." Chapter 6 The following day, Andres did not leave the house early like he usually did. He squeezed toothpaste onto Camellia's toothbrush and stood by, watching as she finished washing her face. "It's extremely windy today. We can't let it ruin my baby's delicate little face," he said with playful affection. Then, he told her he had a big surprise planned for the next day with an air of mystery. Before he could finish explaining, Cohen Palmer called a few times, saying there was an issue he could not resolve and needed Andres to come immediately. Andres gave Camellia an apologetic glance, and when she reassured him that she understood, he left. Once he was gone, Camellia contacted the team she had hired to confirm every detail for the next day. Then, she drove to Eterna Haven. She had not visited in several days, and everything felt unfamiliar. She called the Saltsburg Museum, and the curator arrived in person an hour later. "Cam, are you sure you want to donate all of this to the country for free?" The curator, Felix Cross, was a fellow apprentice of her mentor. Camellia nodded without hesitation. "You can tell me if you're facing any difficulties. Don't try to handle it all on your own," he said with concern. Camellia remained silent, her gaze fixed on the goddess statue in the center of the room. With its head bowed and its elegant, serene posture, the statue seemed to smile compassionately. Covered in moss and denied the light of day, it exuded a quiet sorrow toward the world. Camellia was leaving, but these artifacts should not be buried with her. "It's nothing, Felix. Don't worry about me," she said softly. Seeing her unwillingness to elaborate, Felix did not press further. After instructing his assistants to carefully transport the artifacts, he patted her shoulder before leaving. "Take care of yourself," he said as he departed. Once again, she was alone. The once vibrant Eterna Haven now felt hollow and empty. Her phone buzzed with a notification. It was about Valentina's online book signing event for her new illustration collection. The clickbaity title read: [The Beautiful Artist Who Once Had a Miscarriage for Love.] Camellia's fingers moved almost involuntarily to click on the link. The video cut to Valentina showing a scar on her abdomen. "Back then, he said I was too young, and the pregnancy was on the risky side. Out of concern for me, he stayed by my side for the procedure," Valentina said with a blissful expression. "It must have been about three years ago when he went to Faren to further his studies… "He even picked out a name for our lost baby—Cale. He said he hoped she'd return to us one day and live a life full of brilliance and light…" Camellia's phone slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor. The screen shattered, forming a spider web of cracks. Cale? That was the nickname Andres had given their child after their first night together. He had held her tenderly afterward, murmuring the name as if it were a promise. Him and Valentina… had a child… Not to mention that it was three years ago. It had not just been going on for the past three months. Andres had lied to her for three entire years. Suddenly, Valentina was pulled into the frame as someone's arm draped around her shoulders. The sound of kissing filled the audio feed. When she reappeared on screen, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She giggled, saying her boyfriend was jealous and insisted they should ‘work harder’ to bring Cale back soon. Her fans erupted in excitement, flooding the chat with playful teasing, though their blessings were genuine. The illustration book sold well, as though it was part of their celebratory gift. Camellia did not know when the signing event ended. The last rays of sunlight disappeared from the room, leaving behind a suffocating darkness. It felt like a giant beast was ready to devour her. She simply sat motionless in her chair with the lights off. Suddenly, her phone screen lit up and became blindingly bright. It was a video message from Valentina, accompanied by a single line. "I told you I'd have you under my feet one day." The video showed two intertwined, bare legs. Camellia was about to delete it when something caught her eye—the rosary beads she had once given Andres. She had it blessed for him, but now they were wrapped around Valentina's ankle. The beads that were slightly large for her looped around her ankle twice. The excess length dangled, with a few beads pressed under Valentina's toe. "They're just rosary beads. If you want them, they're yours," Andres' voice in the video sounded indifferent and dismissive. Camellia's mind flashed back to the day Andres received the beads. "Cam, I'll always keep these with me, even in death," he had promised. The color drained from Camellia's face. She wanted to cry and let out all the pain, but no tears came. The light in her eyes had faded completely. Late at night, as the world slept, no one noticed when Eterna Haven went up in roaring flames. Andres was up early the next morning, preparing for the day. He had just arrived at Quaint Hotel and finished tidying up when Cohen burst in, pale and clutching at his phone. "Andres! Something terrible has happened!" Before Cohen could continue, Andres' phone rang. He held up a finger to silence him and answered the call. As he listened, his gaze shifted to Cohen's phone, where an image stopped him cold. The once-familiar pink Cullinan was now charred black, surrounded by the smoldering remains of Eterna Haven. Smoke billowed from the scene, and a stretcher held a body covered by a white sheet nearby. The voice on the phone interrupted his thoughts. "Hello, is this Mr. Andres Gardner? This is the Saltsburg Police Department. We regret to inform you of a tragic incident. "The property under your wife's name, Eterna Haven, caught fire last night. Unfortunately, your wife did not survive. Our condolences."	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2,768,416	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	Read next chapter	She was overjoyed when she found out she was pregnant, but she saw her husband having intimate with his first love. She left the divorce agreement in tears, hiding her pregnant belly and departing with a broken heart... ===== "Ms. Wright, congratulations! Your baby's very healthy." Jenessa Wright walked out of the hospital in a daze, clutching the pregnancy test result close to her chest. She was pregnant with Ryan's baby! Looking down, she absentmindedly caressed her still-flat belly and broke into a smile. Grinning like silly, Jenessa hurriedly took out her phone to call Ryan Haynes, her husband, excited to share the wonderful news. However, just as she was about to dial his number, her phone buzzed. It read, "Come to Imodon Hotel right now." It was a message from Ryan. Imodon Hotel? Why'd he want her to go there all of a sudden? Jenessa was puzzled, but she didn't hesitate for long. She hailed a cab and headed straight to the hotel. Since Ryan wanted to see her, she figured she might as well tell him the good news in person. With her heart pounding in anticipation, Jenessa arrived at the hotel. As soon as she stepped out of the car, she noticed the lobby was adorned with flowers and a brand-new red carpet, clearly prepared for a celebration. Jenessa paused, momentarily stunned, before remembering that today was their wedding anniversary. Could it be that Ryan had asked her to come here to surprise her? She smiled to herself, wondering idly how Ryan would react to the news of her pregnancy. Jenessa wove her way through the crowd, her plain attire blending into the festive scene unnoticed. It didn't take long for her to spot the dazzlingly handsome man, who easily stood out among the crowd. He was none other than her husband, Ryan Haynes, the father of their child. Just as a smile started to form on her lips, she spotted the woman standing next to Ryan, and her smile froze. That woman was Ryan's first love, Maisie Powell! Since when was Maisie back in town? Jenessa stood glued to her spot, paralyzed as she watched Ryan and Maisie entertain the guests like a perfect couple. Friends surrounded the two, and they seemed to be offering them their congratulations. "Maisie, you're finally home. This deserves a toast!" "Ryan, after all these years, you and Maisie have finally reunited. Doesn't that call for a celebratory drink?" Gradually, the teasing grew louder. Maisie, dressed to the nines in a s*xy red dress and exquisite makeup, chuckled graciously. "Quit teasing us, you guys. Ryan already has a wife." At the mention of Jenessa, the people around showed disdain. "Jenessa? Please! Ryan only married her to appease his grandma!" "Exactly! Ryan has always wanted to marry you. Right, Ryan?" Ryan, looking like a prince in his custom-tailored suit, radiated a cool, unique charisma. "Alright, enough already; stop teasing Maisie," he said coolly. "She can't drink; let me drink on her behalf." As soon as he said this, his friends' laughter and teasing grew even more intense. "Hey, Ryan, what the heck? You're being so protective of her, aren't you? Fine! If she can't drink, then you'll have to drink her share! And you're not allowed to leave until you've finished!" Amidst the boisterous teasing, Ryan remained cool and collected, but there was an unmistakable hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Next to him, Maisie lowered her head and blushed shyly. This loving scene was so glaring that it pierced Jenessa's heart. She didn't know when or how, but she somehow ended up outside the hotel, only realizing it when the cold raindrops hit her face. The chilly wind and drizzling rain enveloped her, and in no time, a fierce storm broke out, soaking her to her bones. Still, she didn't move an inch and simply stared blankly at the rain. Why had Ryan called her over? Was this all just a ploy to make her witness their affection and gracefully surrender her place as his wife to his beloved Maisie? Jenessa's breathing grew heavy. Looking around in a daze, she figured there was nothing she could do but leave this wretched place. With stiff, deliberate steps, she trudged home in the rain. Standing at the doorway, she gazed at the familiar house, her thoughts drifting. Two years ago, when her family was on the brink of bankruptcy, they tried salvaging their situation by marrying her off into the Haynes family. Ryan was initially unwilling, but because his gravely ill grandma kept pressuring him, he reluctantly agreed to the arranged marriage. Now that his grandma's health had improved and Maisie was back from abroad, Jenessa thought maybe it was time for her to pack her things and leave Ryan. Jenessa didn't know how long she stood in front of the house before the sound of a car engine reached her ears. Then, Ryan's deep voice spoke beside her. "Jenessa, why are you standing here, out in the rain?" Chapter 2 I Want A Divorce In a daze, Jenessa looked up, only to meet the stern gaze of the man standing before her. Was she seeing things? What was Ryan doing here? Maisie had just returned from abroad; shouldn't he be spending time with the woman he loved? Ryan couldn't help but frown when he didn't receive a response from Jenessa. Jenessa, soaking wet from the rain, looked like a drowned rat. With her long, dark hair plastered to her pale cheeks, water dripping steadily from the ends, she seemed so helpless and pitiful. "What on earth happened to you?" Ryan questioned, his tone sounding a bit harsher than intended. Jenessa recalled how gentle and affectionate he was with Maisie at the hotel earlier, causing her heart to ache. It was painfully clear that Ryan's attitude towards the woman he loved and the one he didn't were worlds apart. Trying hard to swallow the bitter taste in her mouth, Jenessa forced a smile and softly explained, "It started raining on my way back home, and I didn't have an umbrella, so I got drenched-" While speaking, her nose suddenly itched unbearably, and she couldn't help but sneeze loudly. But instead of pitying her, Ryan only frowned deeper. "You're not a child anymore. If you get caught in the rain, the first thing you should do when you get home is dry off and change your clothes. Do I really need to spell things out for you?" The smile on Jenessa's face stiffened. "I-I'm sorry..." "Go get changed quickly, or else you'll catch a cold." Ryan seemed too impatient with her to say anything more, so he bypassed her and walked inside the house. Catch a cold? Only then did Jenessa remember that she was pregnant; she couldn't afford to get sick, lest she put the baby in harm's way. With that in mind, she hurried to her room, took a hot shower, and let the warm water chase away the chill. Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out of the steam-filled bathroom, only to find Ryan standing in her way. She gasped in surprise and instinctively clutched her towel more tightly around her chest. Ryan's sharp gaze remained fixed on her, and upon noticing her reaction, he asked indifferently, "Why should you be nervous? It's nothing I haven't already seen." Jenessa's face flushed bright red as memories of their passionate, intimate nights together flashed before her eyes. Without waiting for a response, Ryan casually held out a cold medicine pill and a glass of water. "Here, take this." Jenessa hesitantly glanced at the pill in his hand, worried that it might not be good for the baby. "Well, I think I'll be fine without it. After all, I was only in the rain for a while." Unexpectedly, Ryan refused to let her off the hook. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You're as pale as a ghost. We're visiting Grandma tomorrow, so you'd better not get sick, you hear me?" But Jenessa, worried about the baby, stubbornly resisted. "I just need to drink something warm, that's all. I'm fine, really." At this point, Ryan's patience wore thin. He decisively popped the pill in his mouth and drank some water from the glass. "Ryan, what're you- Agh!" Before Jenessa could get another word out, Ryan leaned closer, his tall frame looming over her, and grabbed her delicate chin. Forcing her to raise her head, he planted his lips firmly on hers. The pill and water then flowed into her mouth, and he didn't loosen his grip until he was certain that she had swallowed the pill. The sudden kiss made Jenessa dizzy, washing away all her inhibitions. Ryan's desires were stirred, and he carried her over to the bed. He pulled away from her for the briefest of moments to undo his tie, his eyes burning with an all-consuming desire for her. When Jenessa met his intense gaze, she snapped back to reality and cried out, "No!" Trembling, she pushed against his rock-hard chest. "Hmm?" Ryan stopped in his tracks, wondering if he had misheard. He tried to kiss Jenessa again, but she decisively turned her head away, avoiding his eyes. "Ryan, I..." She gulped, struggling to get the words out. "I want a divorce." Her words extinguished Ryan's desires in the blink of an eye. Annoyance flashing across his face, he coldly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his deep eyes staring piercingly into hers. "Say that again?" Jenessa's heart skipped a beat. Still, she managed to suppress the turbulent emotions inside her and bravely met Ryan's intense gaze. "I said, I want a divorce." A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Ryan's eyes. "Why?" Jenessa was taken aback by his question, confusion and bewilderment evident on her face. Why else? To fulfill his wish to marry his beloved Maisie, of course. "Because..." Her voice trailed off feebly, unable to utter the obvious. "Is your family in financial trouble again? This is about money?" Ryan looked down at her icily. "Jenessa, don't you know your place? If you need something, just say it. Don't play these little games with me, because I do not have the patience for this bullshit." Jenessa quietly clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. So, Ryan assumed that her request for a divorce was just one of her games, an attempt to leverage the situation for her benefit? Jenessa smiled bitterly, but her eyes showed a look of uncharacteristically fierce determination. "Don't worry. I don't want anything but a divorce. Ryan, we were going to get a divorce sooner or later, so what difference does it make?" Ryan didn't respond immediately. He just stared at her with a strange, serious look in his eyes. His silence sent Jenessa into a trance, a mix of anxiety and inexplicable flicker of hope taking root in her heart. "Or... do you not want a divorce?" Chapter 3 Look Out, World! The thought that Ryan might want to stay married made Jenessa's heart skip a beat, her chest heaving from anticipation. However, under her hopeful gaze, Ryan scoffed coldly. "Jenessa, don't kid yourself." His tone was full of mockery, each word piercing her heart like a knife. "Do you really think I'd say 'no' to a divorce?" He locked eyes with her, his gaze icy cold. "Remember this, Jenessa-you're the one who asked for a divorce. You'd better not come crawling back to me when it's all said and done." With that, he got out of bed and left, slamming the door behind him. Jenessa lay despondently on the bed, her heart heavy with disappointment. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she gently placed a hand on her belly, feeling the little life growing inside her. She had originally planned to tell Ryan the good news, but in the span of just a few hours, they were on the brink of divorce. After thinking about it a moment or two, she decided it was best to keep Ryan in the dark about her pregnancy. Even if they separated ways, she could raise the baby on her own. Then, thinking about her job as Ryan's secretary, she felt a pang of helplessness. Ryan's grandma had arranged for her to work under Ryan to nurture their relationship, and back then, it seemed like a good idea. But now, things were different, and it was high time she left that job. The following morning, as soon as Jenessa arrived at the WorldLink Group's headquarters, a few of her more gossipy colleagues surrounded her. "Jenessa, we've been waiting for you all morning! What's going on with Mr. Haynes and that Maisie girl? Are they an item now?" "News of Mr. Haynes throwing a welcome-home party for international supermodel Maisie Powell went viral overnight. He even invited all his friends. Looks like he's planning to make their relationship public soon!" "I heard that after the party, they spent the night together. Maybe she's his future wife!" Jenessa felt a pang of bitterness as she listened. After a brief hesitation, she replied despondently, "I don't know much about it." Her colleagues exchanged glances and rolled eyes. Obviously, they didn't believe her. "Come on, Jenessa! You're Mr. Haynes' secretary. You know him better than anyone. How could you not know any insider information? Just spill the beans already!" Jenessa forced a weak smile. Everyone knew that she was Ryan's secretary, but very few people knew that she was also Ryan's wife. He was even reluctant to make their relationship public. With a soft sigh, she stood her ground more firmly. "I really don't know, okay? Enough with the gossip." The colleagues wanted to press her further, but Jenessa cut them off before they could get another word out. "I said there's nothing to say, so quit pestering me. Were you all hired just to gossip? Get back to work, all of you!" Her stern expression made them uneasy, but she was right; they had to comply. "Okay, okay, we get it." As Jenessa walked away, they couldn't help but mutter and grumble among themselves. "Who does she think she is? Acting all high and mighty. Humph! She's not the only secretary here." "Yeah, when she started working here out of the blue three years ago, we all thought she had some kind of relationship with Mr. Haynes. But in the end, he didn't pay her any special attention-never took her to meetings with clients. She's his personal secretary, but what of it? Just eye candy!" "Her days here are numbered. Once Maisie marries Mr. Haynes, Jenessa will be the first one to go. After all, who would trust a pretty secretary around their man?" "Exactly!" Their laughter and unrestrained chatter filled the office, but Jenessa turned a deaf ear to it all and walked straight to her desk, immersing herself in her work. She knew how those seemingly friendly colleagues truly saw her. But she couldn't argue with them, because even she herself felt like a joke. Before she knew it, it was time to get off work, and most of the secretaries had already gone home. Just as Jenessa was packing her things, she received a call from her best friend, Brinley Lloyd. "Hey, I saw the news this morning. What the hell is going on with Ryan and that Maisie girl? Just rumors, right?" Hearing the disbelief in Brinley's voice, Jenessa sighed heavily. "It's true." Brinley gasped in shock mixed with horror. "What the hell?!" Throughout the day, Jenessa had thought things through, so she was relatively calm as she explained, "In the first place, Ryan and I only got married as part of an agreement. I always knew he had no feelings for me; he only married me because his grandma insisted. Now that the woman he loves is back in the picture, there's no reason for me to stay. It's time to let them be together." Brinley felt both incredulous and indignant. "But... What about the baby? Weren't you going to surprise him?" "Would it be a wonderful surprise to him? Or a horrifying shock?" Jenessa instinctively touched her flat belly, a bitter smile on her lips. "Anyway, what matters is I've made up my mind- I want a divorce, and I'll raise this baby on my own. There's no need for him to know." "Seriously, a divorce? Are you sure about that?" Brinley sounded very concerned. "If you don't want him to know you're pregnant, then you can't keep working at WorldLink. Your belly will get bigger and bigger." "Don't worry, I'm way ahead of you. I'll resign soon. Then, I can finally go back to doing what I truly love." The mention of her long-lost dreams brought a rare smile to Jenessa's face. "Oh, my God! Jenessa, are you going back to your old career?" Brinley was thrilled. "That's fantastic! I always believed in you! You're a genius designer! Look out, world-Sloane Todd, a legend in the fashion design world, is coming! You shouldn't have wasted your talents as Ryan's secretary all these years. He's not worth it!" "Sloane Todd..." Jenessa felt a bit dazed at the mention of that long-forgotten pseudonym. For Ryan, she had lost herself for so long. She almost forgot who she truly was. "Jenessa." A magnetic, masculine voice suddenly sounded behind her. Startled, Jenessa whirled around to find a stern-looking Ryan standing behind her. Chapter 4 A Bun In The Oven "Ry-I mean, Mr. Haynes! What are you doing here?" Jenessa was so startled that she fumbled for the right words, having been caught completely off guard. She hurriedly ended the call, her jittery gaze searching Ryan's face for any signs of anger, feeling inexplicably scared and flustered. When had Ryan arrived? How much had he overheard? "Weren't we supposed to visit Grandma at the hospital today?" Ryan asked, impatience evident in his tone. Only then did Jenessa remember that they had indeed made plans that day. Lowering her head apologetically, she murmured, "I... I'm sorry." "Hmph," Ryan grunted indifferently. As though unwilling to spare another glance at her, he turned around and walked out, saying briskly, "Let's go." It took the dazed Jenessa a second before she snapped to her senses and quickly caught up to him. On the way to the hospital, her mind was in turmoil. A complex mix of emotions plagued her heart as she anxiously wondered if Ryan had overheard her conversation with Brinley. But then she figured, if Ryan had heard that she planned to secretly raise their baby on her own, he wouldn't be so calm now. The two sat side by side in the back seat in complete silence. Naturally, Jenessa's distracted demeanor was a bit hard to ignore. Ryan couldn't stand it anymore. Brows furrowed, he turned his head slightly and demanded, "What's going on with you?" His deep voice startled Jenessa, interrupting her thoughts. "N-nothing," she stammered hastily. "Is that so?" Ryan spoke slowly, his tone carrying a hint of doubt. Jenessa's racing heart pounded in her chest. Just as she opened her mouth to defend herself, Ryan's magnetic voice suddenly sounded again, this time a lot closer to her ear. "If it really is nothing, then why are you avoiding me? Why won't you look at me, hmm?" Jenessa, frozen in place, dared not move an inch. A barely audible scoff escaped Ryan as he reached out one hand, gently grasping the back of her neck. From the corner of her eye, Jenessa saw him leaning in slowly...... ...... ==== To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave, only to be caught by Ryan... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3&	LEARN_MORE	https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_	Hello Read	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	1,009	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	web.weread.mobi	IMAGE		https://web.weread.mobi/57632322-fb_contact-enr25_2-c3-0727-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1166169688155768&exdata=E7C53BDECE0DE88BC817FFB33EB1CEDD0259AA5C7CC3493D	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/476163090_1772391123538618_9078247698742117798_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iwGaOOng4jIQ7kNvgEdkMhV&_nc_oc=Adh_7n-W4aJOA2M5HXAh0pSBJoLm7GTFYMqJWCLbuHhNx8EQ53OUpMRSebz9BB1AXIRNi8JSwUum3KGbqMwTHjNH&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AQ2twZbCXhXTIQuGz4BSo7n&oh=00_AYCQdHYt-tJLXbF5Upyf6V4S-LxPs9x7AY_fzBG8tVn5DQ&oe=67CC07D2	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Hello Read	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,230	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2025-03-03 18:28	active	2789	Dior Giveaway 💖	WIN this limited edition DIOR TOTE BAG for as little as $10 entry! 💖 Mila Collective is America's #1 Luxury Rewards Club. New winners drawn every Tuesday! Grab an entry today for your chance to WIN.	LEARN_MORE	https://www.milacollective.com/pages/dior-medium-b	Mila Collective	https://www.facebook.com/61559624221155/	1,265	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	milacollective.com	IMAGE	America's #1 Luxury Rewards Club	https://www.milacollective.com/pages/dior-medium-book-tote-4k	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482318160_9218367311574562_4197074287168974454_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uN6GjbTbPdcQ7kNvgFqCVNn&_nc_oc=AdimDsy-aGbVEbO3Fc7j0H6Dnw8tTu1xLa0xjM53GdT61DUekZexyYrRzS_8AG867_LNpS1ohQ6AnA9O6-5Q4RyS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A5IYRpBvAQ1TfbO0yc0HbrV&oh=00_AYCBMolFUbM700zcGzZNMiYdbGRBn_A5Y4iiWgeUesXq0Q&oe=67CBFE50	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Mila Collective	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,213	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768116}'	No	2025-03-03 19:10	active	2791	😍Read the next chapters👉	In Merika State, the two of them lay close together on the hotel bed. As their passion grew, Justin Yates’s husky voice, filled with allure, murmured, “Em, how about having a child with me?” Caught up in the moment, Emily Yates replied without thinking. It wasn’t until they were lying together afterward that she remembered what he had said. “A child?” she repeated, a trace of intimacy lingering in her eyes. The look stirred Justin’s desire again. She was a constant temptation to him. Pushing those thoughts aside, he pulled out a ring and slipped it onto her left hand. “Are you proposing to me?” she asked. “Yes.” “Can I finally have your child now?” Justin asked, smiling. His eyes were warm, but there was no love in them, as if he were gazing past her, waiting for someone else’s answer. “I’ll give you plenty,” she replied, momentarily surprised. Proposing in bed wasn’t exactly romantic or formal, but she didn’t mind. She had waited three years for this moment, and it was worth it. Three years ago, she had been injured near the beach, hitting her head on a rock. When she woke up, she had no memory. Justin had saved her. The first thing she saw when she woke was his face, and one look left her captivated. Later, she learned that Justin had paid her hospital bills. She also learned of his identity. He was the CEO of RC Corporation. He proposed that she be his contract lover, and without hesitation, she agreed. They signed an agreement, defining their relationship, and he gave her the name Emily Yates. Yes, she was drawn to his looks. Despite their arrangement, the past three years felt like any other relationship. In the first year, she was a hidden lover. In the second, he introduced her as his girlfriend to his circle. Now, with three years approaching, he was proposing. Once she was part of his social circle, she heard whispers about a woman who had been his first love, someone he cherished deeply in college. She had disappeared without a trace, and he had been searching for her ever since. Over the years, Justin had lost hope she was still alive. That was why he finally proposed. Emily didn’t mind. Everyone has a past. Looking at the diamond ring on her left ring finger, she felt like it had all been worth it. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Justin was showering. Calming down, Emily wrapped a towel around herself and got out of bed to pick up their scattered clothes. A soft clink echoed as something hit the floor. It was Justin’s cardholder. She bent down to pick it up, and a photo slipped out. It was old, with frayed edges, as if it had been looked at countless times. The woman in the photo looked like her but younger, just how she would have looked three years ago. Emily didn’t remember ever taking this photo, but she had lost her memory. Maybe she had forgotten. She was just about to put the cardholder back when a large, slender hand appeared, taking it from her. Justin emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp and falling over his eyes, now tinged with a hint of displeasure. “Don’t touch my things,” he said coldly, his tone a sharp contrast to the intimacy they had just shared. Turning away from her, he put the cardholder back in his briefcase, his whole demeanor suddenly distant and guarded. Emily froze. Was he really getting defensive over a photo? She looked at him, confused. Wasn’t that her old picture? Before she could ask, Justin seemed to realize that his reaction had been out of line. He turned back and grasped her chin. With a playful glint in his eye, he ran his thumb over her still-swollen lips, toying with them. His voice was cool, devoid of warmth, but his words were deeply suggestive, clearly aiming to change the subject. “We’re going to be late for the art exhibit. If you rather stay here, I wouldn’t mind going another round.” Her cheeks flushed at his teasing, and she gently pushed him away. Her thoughts were scattered, and she quickly forgot about the photo. Justin had come to Merika State on business and had received an invitation to an art exhibition by Haley Quinn. He brought Emily along, planning to take her to the show once his work was done. Haley, a painter who had withdrawn from the public eye three years ago, rarely held exhibitions, making this one a rare event. Emily dressed quickly, while Justin had already changed into a fresh suit. The gallery was close to the hotel, so they walked there. Arm in arm, they strolled down the street, enjoying the perfect atmosphere. Just as Emily felt an overwhelming sense of happiness, Justin suddenly stopped. “Justin, what’s wrong?” She followed his gaze. Across the street, a disheveled woman, her clothes too dirty to recognize their original color, was recklessly crossing the traffic, oblivious to the danger. The woman pushed Emily aside and wrapped her arms tightly around Justin’s waist. She sobbed uncontrollably, gasping for air. “Justin, I finally found you. You came looking for me, didn’t you?” Emily stumbled from the shove, the bright sunlight momentarily blinding her. The woman looked eerily familiar. She resembled the one in the photo from the cardholder and, in a way, even looked like Emily herself. “Emma? Is that really you?” Justin’s voice trembled, his eyes locked onto the woman in his arms, as if afraid she might disappear again. Just moments ago, he had proposed to Emily. Now, right there in the street, he held another woman. He gently wiped away the woman’s tears with a tenderness so delicate, as if afraid of breaking something precious. “Yes, it’s me,” the woman sobbed, nodding desperately. Frail as she was, she clung to him. Justin was known for his fastidiousness and love of cleanliness, but he now held her tightly. He was soothing her with gentle words, as if she were a lost treasure he had finally recovered. He was afraid that even the slightest rough movement might hurt her. They seemed oblivious to everything around them, including Emily. Justin seemed to have forgotten Emily was still there. The woman in his arms had cried herself into unconsciousness. He took off his expensive jacket and draped it over her. He then slipped his arms under her knees and held her tightly as he carried her back toward the hotel. Emily stood there, feeling like an outsider. Her arm still ached from where she had been shoved, and she could still feel the warmth of Justin’s touch lingering around her waist. Just minutes ago, he had been tangled up with her in bed, proposing marriage. Now, he was leaving her in the middle of the street, carrying a woman who seemed to come out of nowhere. He had tossed aside his usual grace, holding this woman, who looked like a beggar, and rushed back to the hotel. The people around them pointed and whispered, like they were watching some sort of spectacle. Emily wanted to follow him, but her first step faltered. She steadied herself against a nearby building, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the window. Her flawless makeup now showed a hint of disarray. Chapter 2 Tears had fallen without her noticing, smudging the fresh makeup around her eyes. Emily glanced down at the diamond ring on her left hand, a sense of foreboding spreading through her. The sudden appearance of this woman might shatter the happiness she had been waiting for. She couldn’t just stand here. She had to know who this woman was. After a moment to gather herself, she headed back to the hotel. The plane flew from Merika State back to Haven State. At Lichfield Hospital, Emily stood at the door of a hospital room, arms crossed, trying to see inside through the window. Justin’s friend, Zac White, the director of Lichfield Hospital, along with other doctors, were examining the restless woman on the hospital bed. Two female nurses held her steady as they conducted their checks. On the plane, her face had already been cleaned, and she had been given fresh clothes. “Emma Xander? Hasn’t she... disappeared for the past four years?” Zac was shocked. Where had Justin found her? The Yates and White families had pulled every string they could to find Emma, but after four years with no trace, they had finally given up. And now, here she was. After completing their examination, the doctors and nurses left the room. A heavy silence fell over the space. A moment later, Justin’s voice seemed to echo from a distance as he gazed at the woman, now sound asleep after a sedative. “How is she doing?” “She’s malnourished, traumatized, and a bit disoriented, but otherwise fine. She just needs some time to recover.” Justin stood by her bedside, clearly prepared to stay with her. Zac hesitated, wanting to say something, but thought better of it and left the room. He opened the door to find Emily waiting outside. Feeling awkward for his friend, Zac adjusted his silver-framed glasses and greeted her with a polite smile. “Hi, Miss Yates.” Emily nodded in acknowledgment. “Dr. White, what’s her name? And what is her relationship with Justin?” she asked bluntly, desperate to know who this woman was. Zac hesitated, uncertain how to explain that Emma was Justin’s long-lost first love. This was his friend’s private matter, after all, and not his to reveal. Before he could find the words, Justin opened the door and saw them standing outside. He frowned, clearly displeased. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?” Justin’s voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. “You proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now you’re holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And you’re not even coming home? Staying out all night?” “Stop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Seeing Justin’s dark expression, Zac stepped in, concerned that Emily might end up on the losing side of this argument. When Justin was angry, it rarely boded well for anyone. “It’s late. Let me arrange a car to take Miss Yates home,” Zac offered, trying to ease the tension. Emily, however, refused Zac’s offer. She wasn’t leaving without answers. “You think I’m being unreasonable? I’m your fiancée. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? “I’ll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, you’re coming home with me.” Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justin’s arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justin’s personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. Justin had always been there for her, always caring, always the first to pick up her calls, no matter if he was in a meeting or on a business trip. If she ever needed him, he would show up immediately. If she couldn’t be reached, he would search the whole city until he found her. But now, with this woman in the hospital room, he wouldn’t even let her near him? “What do you mean by this?” Emily’s voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didn’t respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancée he had just proposed to. Time seemed to stretch, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. “Don’t be childish.” Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? “If you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!” Emily’s heart ached, squeezing painfully in her chest. She knew it wasn’t the right moment to bring this up, but she couldn’t accept the idea that her future husband would spend the night in the hospital with another woman. Zac stood nearby, listening in shock. Marriage? Had Justin really proposed to Emily? And what about Emma in the hospital room? Justin glanced over his shoulder, worried that the woman asleep in the hospital bed might hear them and wake up. Emily noticed the concern in his eyes. It was an expression she had seen many times when he had worried about her. But now, that look was for someone else. He turned back to Emily, his voice still icy. “If you don’t want to get married, we can call it off. This isn’t the place for your drama. William, have the driver take her home.” He didn’t like being threatened, especially when it came to his marriage. Without another glance at her, he opened the door to the hospital room and went back inside. William stepped forward, maintaining his respectful tone. “Miss Yates, please don’t make this difficult for me. It’s time for you to go home.” Zac looked at Emily with sympathy. “Miss Yates, it’s late. Maybe it’s best to talk things over with Justin another time.” But how could they ever discuss this again? Her fiancé had just left her humiliated, choosing to stay with another woman without a care for her dignity. The hospital hallway lights felt harsh, blinding her with their brightness. Realizing that staying there made her look like a fool, Emily decided she wouldn’t let herself be a spectacle for others to watch. Clenching her purse tightly, Emily turned to leave. As she took a step, her vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed. Both Zac and William rushed to steady her, their grip gentlemanly but firm. “I’ll walk you to the car,” Zac offered. Leaning against the wall, Emily took a moment to steady herself, then shook her head. “I’m fine. I can get back on my own.” Her footsteps wobbled as she walked down the hallway, but she managed to keep her head high until she was out of their sight. After returning to the hospital room, Justin glanced down at Emma, who lay pale and frail on the bed. A strange weight settled in his chest, and the pervasive smell of antiseptic only added to his irritation. He tugged at his shirt collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons, but the air still felt suffocating. He stepped back out into the hallway, finding Zac and William waiting there. Emily was gone. “She left?” he asked, visibly more at ease now that she was no longer around. He didn’t want her disturbing Emma’s rest. “Yes, she’s gone,” Zac replied, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, nodding. With both of them standing there, Justin didn’t bother asking how Emily had left. “I’m stepping out for a break,” he said. Chapter 3 “So, Emma Xander’s back. What are you going to do?” Zac asked, breaking the silence. He didn’t mention Emily, but they both knew what he meant. One woman was the college sweetheart, the first love who had once saved Justin’s life. The other was the girlfriend who had been with him for three years, sharing his most intimate moments, and now, his fiancée. After a long pause, Justin replied, his voice cold and detached. “She was just a stand-in. She could never compare to Emma.” He went on, his tone utterly indifferent, as if he hadn’t been the one to propose to Emily in Merika State. “The role of Mrs. Yates will never be hers. It can only belong to Emma.” In a way, Emily had saved him the trouble of saying it himself when she had brought up their marriage in the hallway. Zac and Justin had been close friends since childhood, both growing up in privileged families, each carrying a bit of that self-centered mindset typical of their social circle. But this time, Zac couldn’t help feeling sorry for Emily. Emily, though an orphan with no family or wealth, was straightforward and honest. Over the past three years, she had complemented Justin perfectly, and in Zac’s eyes, they had seemed genuinely happy together. On the other hand, considering how long Emma had been abroad, it wasn’t hard to guess what she might have gone through. Zac didn’t care about things like V-card or a woman’s past, but he had always found Emma to be somewhat pretentious. Even back in college, she often disregarded Justin’s concerns, running off on her own without a second thought. After graduation, she mysteriously vanished during an overseas reunion party organized by a close group of alumni. Despite mobilizing every possible connection, they never found her. Even the police suggested they give up, implying that a young woman disappearing overseas was likely gone for good. At that time, Justin hadn’t fully taken over the company and wasn’t yet experienced in handling crises like these. Around the same time, his father, Henry Yates, was in a car accident and died despite emergency treatment. After the funeral, Justin was suddenly thrust into the dual responsibilities of inheriting the company and fending off his uncle, Harry Yates, who was trying to seize control. Thanks to his grandfather’s intervention, Justin managed to stabilize the corporation. By then, the critical window to find Emma had long passed, and any chance of finding her had all but disappeared. Zac clearly remembered how Justin had been consumed with frustration and self-blame during those days. And then Emily had come into his life, bringing him some peace. For that, Zac was truly grateful to her. “Emily’s been with you for three years,” Zac said, trying to speak up for her. “She’s an orphan, with no one else in the world. Isn’t it a bit cruel to treat her like this?” “Then I’ll keep her around,” Justin replied casually, brushing it off like it was no big deal. “But marriage? That’s not going to happen.” His tone was so offhanded, as if having another woman around didn’t matter at all. He didn’t see a problem with it. Keep her around? Really? Was he expecting her to stay hidden away as his stand-in lover, someone he kept out of sight? A mistress? A side piece? Emily didn’t leave the hospital right away. She sat on a bench behind the flower bed, letting the cold night air wash over her. She hadn’t expected to find out the truth like this. It turned out she was only here because she happened to look almost exactly like his lost one true love. And since she had lost her memory, he saw the perfect opportunity to mold her into the image of the woman he truly missed, hiding the truth from her and using her as a substitute. All the affection and indulgence he had shown her, it was never really for her. It was for the woman he had lost. Emma Xander. So that was her name, the one he had loved all his life. That was why he named her Emily, a name that allowed him to keep calling out for the one he had always loved. Even in their most intimate moments, he would call her “Em.” Whenever he whispered “Em” in that deep, seductive voice, full of passion, she would lose herself completely, sinking further into him. It turned out he was simply looking at her face and calling out another woman’s name all along. It dawned on her that the photo in Justin’s wallet must have been of Emma, not her. She had foolishly assumed the woman in that picture was herself. What a joke. From start to finish, Justin had shaped her into the image of his hidden love, his one true love. And she had naively believed that she had won him over, making him fall in love with her. In truth, she was nothing more than a piece in their story. Emily felt her heart plunge from a mountaintop to the depths of despair. She had gone from being a proud fiancée to a hidden stand-in, a shadow. She had liked, maybe even loved Justin. But her pride couldn’t accept that she had been someone else’s replacement all along, or that she was now the secret other woman. Resolved to leave, she felt a small sense of relief that Justin had only proposed. They weren’t married yet, and breaking up would be far easier than going through a divorce. For a moment, she felt grateful for Emma’s sudden appearance. “Miss Yates, where are you?” the driver called, stepping out of the car after waiting a while. “I’m here.” Emily pulled herself from her thoughts, putting on her usual calm expression. “Is it just you? Where’s Mr. Yates?” he asked. “He’s not coming back.” Emily rose from the bench by the flower bed and walked back to the car with the driver. She wore a cream-colored, knee-length dress in a sweet, innocent style. As an artist, she was open to trying any look, but it was Justin who had said he liked this style. So, for the past three years, she had dressed this way for him. The spring breeze brushed her bare calves, sending a chill through her. Zac looked a bit uncomfortable, “Emily didn’t leave?” So, she had heard everything they had said. Justin’s tone was just as indifferent, cold, and unfeeling. “Good. Let her hear it. She needs to know her place and avoid causing any more scenes like tonight.” With that, he turned and walked away from the garden, completely unfazed by the fact that Emily had overheard him. Emily sat quietly during the ride back to Villa One. Mrs. Zimmer greeted her at the door, her face lighting up warmly after a few days apart. “You’re back! It must’ve been tiring, traveling with Mr. Yates.” Emily nodded wearily, barely acknowledging her. “Yes.” “Where’s Mr. Yates?” Mrs. Zimmer glanced behind her, looking for Justin. “He won’t be back tonight.” Emily’s voice was detached, as if his return made no difference to her. Mrs. Zimmer looked slightly disappointed at first, but then her face lit up with a knowing smile, the kind that came from having seen a lot in life. She took Emily’s suitcase and gently urged her to go get some rest in the bedroom. Once inside, Emily understood Mrs. Zimmer’s smile. The room was dimly lit, with candles arranged at various heights, casting a soft, romantic glow. Flowers and scented candles adorned the surfaces, and a bottle of champagne sat open on the table. Even the usual heavy gray curtains had been replaced with delicate lace, adding an air of intimacy. The bed was covered in thick rose petals, the entire room transformed into a romantic setting. Clearly, this had been Justin’s arrangement before their trip. Exhausted, Emily didn’t have the energy to clean up, and it was too late to bother Mrs. Zimmer. Chapter 4 Emily found the remote to turn on the lights, then looked for something handy to snuff out each candle one by one. Afterward, she retrieved her nightgown from the closet and headed for a shower. As she walked into the bathroom, she noticed the ring still on her left hand. She slipped it off and tossed it into the corner of her jewelry box. When she returned to the bedroom, she brushed all the rose petals off the bed and settled under the covers, pulling them over her head. She instinctively lay on the left side of the bed, where she was used to sleeping. Justin would always hold her close, gradually shifting over to the left with her until they were practically glued together. Now, the right side of the bed was glaringly empty. To fill the space, she scooted to the center, tossing the extra pillow onto the floor, finally feeling comfortable. She turned off the lights and went to sleep. Two days passed without any word from Justin. He was likely at the hospital with Emma or busy with work. Emily didn’t care and hadn’t reached out, maintaining a complete radio silence. The morning sun was bright, and the spring breeze was warm as she lounged on a deck chair in the villa’s garden, enjoying a face mask. Her mind wandered to practical matters. She had spent some time reviewing the contract she signed three years ago to be Justin’s “contract lover.” It was set to expire automatically after three years, which was now less than four months away. When it ended, she would receive a payout of twenty million. Between that, and the allowance and holiday bonuses he had given her over the years, she had saved nearly six million. She had barely spent any of it, so it was all tucked away. It seemed she would be in decent shape financially, and finding a job after leaving wouldn’t be too hard. As for a place to live, she could buy a similarly sized home, and maybe invite Helen to move in as a roommate. It would be nice to have company. She did regret not being able to take Mrs. Zimmer with her. If she could, it would be perfect. The phone on the coffee table buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. Emily picked it up, unlocked it with her fingerprint, and a new message notification popped up at the top of the screen. She tapped to open it. It was from her friend, Helen Walker. They had met a year ago while shopping, when Helen insisted on becoming friends after seeing her just once. With no memory of any past friendships, Emily had found Helen easy to talk to, and they had gradually become close. “How was your time in Merika State? When are you coming back?” Helen had attached a mischievous emoji with a smirk. “I’m already back.” “Already? That was quick.” “I thought Justin looked strong. Guess he didn’t last long? Not up to it?” “Not just ‘not up to it’. He can’t even get started.” Emily replied, seizing the chance to curse him. On the other end, Helen raised an eyebrow. It looked like Justin had managed to tick off her friend. But she wasn’t too concerned as they had argued before. Couples fought, and it usually blew over. “Perfect timing then. I’m heading to the TC Mall in a bit to stock up on some new clothes. Let’s hit the mall together and grab some food afterward. Get ready and meet me there.” “Sounds good. I’ll see you at the mall.” Emily agreed readily. She had spent the past couple of days clearing out the sweet, youthful clothes she didn’t like. Her wardrobe could use a refresh. She put down the phone and washed off her face mask. Glancing at the nearly empty wardrobe, she picked out a casual athletic outfit and did a quick, simple makeup look. Fresh and tidy, she got ready to head out. “Mrs. Zimmer, I’m meeting a friend to go shopping. I’ll have lunch out,” Emily said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, Miss Yates. Will you be back for dinner?” Mrs. Zimmer, who was supervising the housekeeper’s cleaning, looked up to ask. Emily paused while slipping on her shoes, thinking about how unpredictable Helen could be and that they hadn’t seen each other in a while. She might not be back for dinner. “Not sure yet. I’ll text you later if I’ll be back in time.” “Understood.” As Emily opened the door, she found Justin’s assistant, Sam Spencer, just about to knock. “Hi, Sam,” she greeted him coolly, planning to step around him to leave. “Hi, Miss Yates. Mr. Yates has a flight out of town this afternoon for a business trip. Could I trouble you to help pack his things before you go?” Sam’s tone was respectful, as usual. Emily didn’t move. “Mrs. Zimmer, Justin’s going on a trip. Could you please help with his packing?” “Miss Yates, this…?” Sam’s face showed confusion. “What? Before I came along, didn’t Justin have someone to handle his luggage?” Her expression was calm, her tone light. “Of course. You’re absolutely right, Miss Yates,” Sam replied, beads of sweat forming as he carefully balanced his response, not daring to offend either side. In the past, Emily had always packed for Justin’s business trips. She had done it so many times that she knew exactly what he would need for any occasion. But now, she had no desire to continue. He had used her as a stand-in, and every time he watched her pack his bags, he must have thought she looked foolish. Three years. Now that she thought back, there had been plenty of strange looks and behaviors from Justin that she hadn’t picked up on. She had been utterly blind. But she wouldn’t be foolish anymore. Emily was ready to leave, but Sam was blocking the door, preventing her from going. She urged Mrs. Zimmer to hurry with the packing. Mrs. Zimmer quickly filled the suitcase and handed it to Sam, who was waiting in the living room. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had barely passed. That was fast. "Mrs. Zimmer, are you sure it’s all packed? Should we check to make sure nothing’s missing?" he asked cautiously. Emily replied without emotion, “Isn’t the flight at noon? If you keep dragging your feet, he’ll miss it. Besides, anything he needs can be bought over there.” She checked her watch, starting to feel a bit pressed for time. If she delayed much longer, Helen would end up waiting impatiently, and they would miss out on shopping before lunch. And who wanted to try on clothes with a full stomach? “Of course, Miss Yates. I’ll head over to the office to pick up Mr. Yates,” Sam said with a polite smile, making his way out. Emily nodded and headed down to the garage. She chose a white luxury car and drove off. Meanwhile, Sam took the suitcase to the sleek black car parked discreetly by the curb. He placed it in the trunk, then settled into the front passenger seat. The driver, Justin’s bodyguard, William, started the car. But instead of heading to the airport, they were bound for Lichfield Hospital. “How much longer until Emily’s contract is up?” Justin’s voice was calm and emotionless, as if he were discussing a routine business matter. Sam immediately understood that the question was directed at him. He quickly recalled the contract details. “Less than four months, Mr. Yates.” “Draft a new agreement and deliver it to her when the time comes,” Justin instructed. Keeping her around for three years had cost him little, and continuing to support her wasn’t an issue. But he was done with her. He wouldn’t touch her again or return to Villa One. Recalling the scene from the hospital hallway two nights ago, he added without hesitation, “Include a clause that ensures she never shows up in front of Emma again.” Sam was momentarily taken aback but quickly regained his professional composure. “Understood, Mr. Yates.” Chapter 5 People said billionaires were cold and indifferent in their personal lives, switching women as easily as they changed clothes. For the past three years, Mr. Yates had only been with Miss Yates, making him seem like a devoted man. But it looked like he could move on in an instant. Who knew how long Miss Xander would last by his side? Sam had joined the company three years ago, right when Justin took over RC Corporation, so he wasn’t familiar with the complicated history between Emma and Justin. Inside TC Mall, Emily was browsing through clothes, each piece a far cry from her usual sweet and innocent style. “Babe, switching things up?” Helen asked, watching as Emily picked up a long black dress with a slitted hem. It would look stunning on Emily’s curves. Emily held the dress up to herself in the mirror, unfazed. “Yep, time for a change. Do you think this would look better with a shawl or a jacket?” She turned to give Helen a look. “A shawl, definitely. It’ll highlight your figure beautifully,” Helen replied with her usual style advice. “That’s what I thought too.” Helen eyed the dress. “That dress is so feminine. Will your guy even let you wear it out? Doesn’t Justin only let you wear those sweet, innocent schoolgirl outfits?” Helen couldn’t help but mentally criticize Justin’s taste. What kind of fashion sense did he have anyway? A multinational CEO, a man with a grip on the Haven State economy, yet he liked her to dress like a schoolgirl. “His taste doesn’t matter anymore. It’s not something I’m concerned about,” Emily replied casually, completely indifferent. She handed the dress to a fitting assistant with a similar build, having her try it on for her. High-end stores like this one often had staff who modeled the clothes for clients, so she didn’t have to try them on herself. Emily picked out a few more items in different styles for the assistant to model. If she liked them, she would buy them. When she was satisfied with her choices, she scanned her card and paid, then filled out the delivery details for Villa One. The clothes would be sent straight there. After they had finished shopping, they went for lunch. With no one else around, Emily finally shared her situation with Helen that she had been Justin’s stand-in for his one true love. Now that his true love had returned, she was planning to leave him. “That despicable man!” Helen burst out, her emotions flaring. “Keep it down.” Emily quickly covered Helen’s mouth and glanced around to see if anyone at nearby tables was paying attention to them. Helen lowered her voice but was still fuming. “Justin might look put-together, but he’s not even half a man. His first love disappears, so he goes and finds a stand-in? “Why didn’t he just get plastic surgery to look like her? Then he could see her every time he looked in the mirror. “Good for you for walking away. You should break up with him. No! Just breaking up is too good for that pompous human garbage! You need to dump him into the sewers!” LMAO, where did Helen even learn these insults from? Just then, the server brought out a tray with seasoned meats, fresh vegetables, and a variety of salsas. Emily began assembling her own tacos, adding the toppings she liked best. “The contract’s up in four months. I’m planning to buy a place.” “What for? Just stay with me. I’ve got a room for you.” “My address is still tied to Justin’s place. Since I’ve decided to leave, I need a clean break. I’ll need my own place to change everything over,” Emily explained, outlining her plan. Her heart felt numb now, no longer as raw as it had been the night she’d learned the truth in the hospital garden. “Then you can cancel your lease and move in with me! We’ll be family!" Emily suggested excitedly. Helen suppressed the impulse to tell Emily that they were already family. Given Emily's amnesia, she didn’t want to overwhelm her with too much information all at once. Instead, she nodded. “Alright, I’ll move in with you. I’ll start looking around for a place for you. Actually the place I rent now is quite nice. The location and neighborhood are perfect. I’ll check if the landlord’s interested in selling, though it’s a resale property.” “I don’t care if it’s new or used. As long as it’s clean and ready to go, I’m good.” Emily didn’t need much. After leaving the cushy life she had been used to, she was perfectly fine doing things on her own. She found the independence kind of refreshing. After lunch, they picked up some accessories to go with the new outfits, light enough to carry back on her own. Emily said goodbye to Helen and drove back to Villa One. By the time she got back, the clothes she had bought that morning had already been delivered, ironed, and neatly hung in the walk-in closet by the house staff. She hadn’t bought much, just enough to last the next few months and to keep the move as hassle-free as possible. The women’s side of the closet was nearly empty, with only a few of her favorite pieces hanging. She grabbed a new loungewear set to change into and happened to glance over at the men’s side, packed with Justin’s clothes. Emily didn’t linger. She strode past it without a second thought. As she was heading to the bathroom, her phone rang from the sofa. She put down the clothes and picked up the call. “Hello, is this Miss Yates?” “Yes, this is.” “I’m a nurse from Lichfield Hospital. Your health screening results are in. When would be a convenient time for you to come pick them up?” Emily remembered that Justin had taken her for a checkup just before their trip to Merika State. She had forgotten all about it until this call. “I’ll come by tomorrow morning.” “Very well. Have a nice day.” The next day, Emily went to Lichfield Hospital. “Plan to have a baby?” “That’s right. Mr. Yates specifically requested it during his screening. Your health is excellent, Miss Yates. Your ovulation cycle is regular, so we recommend folic acid, Vitamin B1, and plenty of protein. With the right timing and frequency, you should be expecting good news soon.” The doctor adjusted his glasses and smiled warmly. Emily’s fingers tightened around the report, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. She had been trying hard not to think about Justin lately, but this report hit her unexpectedly hard. “Miss Yates, I’ll prescribe you two boxes of folic acid and Vitamin B1. Be sure to take them regularly.” Emily interrupted him, finding an excuse to refuse. “Thanks, doctor, but that won’t be necessary. I’ll get them on my own.” The doctor wasn’t surprised. Wealthy women like her often had access to premium brands from various sources, so declining hospital-prescribed supplements wasn’t unusual. Emily left the hospital in a daze, only coming to her senses when she reached a sunny spot outside. She tossed the health report into the trash bin. With Emma back, Justin clearly had no intention of having children with her. And she certainly didn’t want to give him one, either. It was easier to pretend she didn’t know what the checkup had really been for. Meanwhile, in the hospital’s garden, the spring sunlight was warm and gentle. Justin was pushing Emma’s wheelchair, letting her enjoy the sunshine. “Justin, you’re busy with work. You don’t have to be here with me all the time. I can manage on my own,” Emma said, her voice soft and considerate. “Focus on getting better. Don’t worry about anything else.” Justin felt a deep guilt about Emma’s disappearance, blaming himself for not protecting her better. He believed his negligence had allowed her to be taken and vanish without a trace. Over the past few days, he had tried to gather clues from her about what happened, but whenever he brought it up, she would break down, unable to share any details. Emily hadn’t expected to see Justin at the hospital. Hadn’t Sam said Justin was out of town on a business trip?	LEARN_MORE	https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	www.lzwnyvvd.com	VIDEO		https://www.lzwnyvvd.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=18085&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/t39.35426-6/476340738_633975839114221_8134545820081818270_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=KJE87wRBXTUQ7kNvgGrNfqT&_nc_oc=AdjROA-C2RuVsqFlw18HwKaJ-dwLQbv00oZ7kI9tDGx93OZd1iuz3nzLOhuiQU51_HUpcabRt5ADAWtmOrf80lD9&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AaSfxIdAJRx6D-rr47t5buD&oh=00_AYB5za6qWWqa0B9gDsrpjaQTUjcGZ-clmtmgZk9VP77JLg&oe=67CC2735	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,765,856	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 18:27	active	2789		Local Service Business Giveaway‼️ I’m giving away my Social Scaling Accelerator (worth thousands) to ONE local business – for FREE. If you’re a service-based business in Buford or any city listed below & making $8K+/month, this is your shot to master social media and get more customers! How to Enter: ✅ Follow my page @cameron_race ✅ Comment “GROW” below ✅ Tag another local service business or business owner 📆 Deadline to enter: March 10th 🎥 Winner announced on/before: March 16th (May be filmed for social media) Eligible Cities: Alpharetta, Auburn, Berkeley Lake, Braselton, Buford, Cumming, Dacula, Duluth, Flowery Branch, Gainesville, Hoschton, Jefferson, Johns Creek, Lawrenceville, Milton, Peachtree Corners, Sugar Hill, Suwanee. One business. One transformation. Will it be yours? Disclaimers: No purchase necessary. Winner will be contacted directly by me prior to the announcement publicly on social media. Any information you provide entering the giveaway will be kept confidential. Beware of scam accounts impersonating @cameron_race This giveaway is in no way sponsored, endorsed, or administered by, or associated with, Instagram.	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	https://www.instagram.com/_u/cameron_race	Cameron Race	https://www.facebook.com/61566166510549/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	www.instagram.com	VIDEO		https://www.instagram.com/_u/cameron_race	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482270785_9261165253967979_4447132029854207042_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XjUN0zdfRkQQ7kNvgH03CKL&_nc_oc=AdiQqFt3Z0TfFeP8yi3xFUh0gKoeLTefzC3HaZmk0Fv8FE97vvhECPsTGTzFqtNe5zgzajniW3i7kWXbkvrvclBv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFWClLJc6yM80p6A5UAM5Ed&oh=00_AYDegYPEeeOaAgByLAK2HnnlC34YfC14k6SmzH5Nivmy8Q&oe=67CC309B	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Cameron Race	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,804	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767790}'	No	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	Stop overthinking and start living	✨️️️️️️️ Stop overthinking and start living today ✨️️️️️️️ 🎯 Boost confidence: Develop strategies for better decision making and self-esteem 💫 Eliminate negative thoughts: Learn how to identify and reduce toxic thought patterns ⌛ Live in the present moment: Become calm, happy, and trust your intuition	LEARN_MORE	https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	Your Personal Coach Sophia	https://www.facebook.com/61555143686071/	1,871	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mindway.app	IMAGE		https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/435664415_806240261416439_3438705381319779790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=XtnJOsGDM5UQ7kNvgHacFXL&_nc_oc=AdhHi7Uz4k41Uml1Y_NPkUqDc3DKP3ateIDEvgM4EO8l-IUTxqIvVf0bKDVW6JTjotOx9hX90ZChnikQjFssW-h-&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A0mYToYbxREbVIRAZPz2sIb&oh=00_AYDr-ItVi5w367jDI56K2HII_9ITxKtpVkkWGR1HV-aTMg&oe=67CC0FA9	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Your Personal Coach Sophia	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,793	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767790}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	Stop overthinking and start living	✨️️️️️️️ Stop overthinking and start living today ✨️️️️️️️ 🎯 Boost confidence: Develop strategies for better decision making and self-esteem 💫 Eliminate negative thoughts: Learn how to identify and reduce toxic thought patterns ⌛ Live in the present moment: Become calm, happy, and trust your intuition	LEARN_MORE	https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	Mindway	https://www.facebook.com/61555945144541/	19,633	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mindway.app	VIDEO		https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470071010_527719013600854_8110496363145148361_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MnLQHZs9DToQ7kNvgESjW5B&_nc_oc=AdjLYjqmxpq_JRyitexLZAowPLxl0ntjVU8rPyuFppeTqk6blzBHwOrHd1_PHph-TST4mZwU-rqxfIoxRKYAppoM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A2DK0EII2JOOtiDPnWbmPfY&oh=00_AYA9ZoPSITHyvQMXPPjXOgxONPdYnvF0ADTNeikR1gYr7w&oe=67CC285B	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Mindway	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,400	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2766392}'	No	2025-03-03 18:29	active	2789	BEST ODDS TO WIN!	One Lucky Person will take home this S2000+ $5,000.	SHOP_NOW	http://shopdreamdriven.com/	Dream Driven Co.	https://www.facebook.com/61565875238874/	621	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	shopdreamdriven.com	DCO	{{product.description}}	http://shopdreamdriven.com/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/482005146_1638103757068744_1129232028168757459_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1p35wB-zG1EQ7kNvgEhiYXu&_nc_oc=AdiaxdBv4Ked9qVo3j6vVZzwOk-tEgliqco3JQMaeqhJOwzcUOhDS_QTfDLLc36fH64xrv-79OAPLCo7Wwfzd6L3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AO9BV4ymTwNfCdS5RiqK73t&oh=00_AYBPTzmyDRDA0KBSENzbTK0Qxz1JfN1Xw1dLk4wPRX_X1A&oe=67CC0FF5	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Dream Driven Co.	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,765,981	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2025-03-03 18:28	active	2789		🌟 TG OMEGA-3 GIVEAWAY! 🌟 It’s #GlobalOmega3Day! We are giving away one bottle of our TG Omega-3 fish oil to ONE lucky winner! HOW TO ENTER: 🫧 Follow @macuhealth on both Instagram and Facebook (link in bio!) 🫧 Like and save this post 🫧 Comment with a 🫧 emoji + tag a friend. Multiple comments are allowed, and each comment counts as an additional entry. 🫧 Share to your story for an additional entry! — Winner will be contacted via DM and announced in the comments of this post. We will never send a friend request, ask for additional registrations, or request credit card information, and any communication will come from this @macuhealth Instagram account only. Please be wary of scam accounts. Good luck! 💙🐟🫧 — Giveaway ends Monday, March 10th 2025 at 12 noon ET. Winner will be chosen at random. Must be based in the US. No purchase necessary, and this #MacuHealth sweepstakes is not endorsed by or affiliated with Instagram.	VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	https://www.instagram.com/_u/macuhealth	MacuHealth	https://www.facebook.com/MacuHealth/	1,315	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram profile	www.instagram.com	VIDEO		https://www.instagram.com/_u/macuhealth	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481304195_1323100825410952_2127415654896885410_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2n66cNsCyCcQ7kNvgGxeFB6&_nc_oc=AdjLA56IjiipeYr3r3SKaGBA3tMYqQbXGy1A0RwPWJhLjPgS3aiCjtW7A1rtO7_mV58uJIqVzLFftQ8Jy5F-2aLw&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AGOL39vnX959aTS1elppWoq&oh=00_AYDvSjvvFM8j11x1dXWtjlHFmyqFeyTYrw9Eh1-GhfZGPQ&oe=67CC15A0	PERSON_PROFILE	0	MacuHealth	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,768,621	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2768596}'	Yes	2025-03-03 19:11	active	2791	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The brilliant lights in the hall dimmed, leaving a concentrated glow upon the stage. The bride and groom stood bathed in radiance—she in her flowing white gown, he in his impeccably tailored suit. They were the perfect picture of beauty and elegance. The background music shifted, rising into a crescendo, infusing the air with a palpable sense of excitement. The wedding ceremony had reached its peak. Deidre clasped her left hand over her right, her palms damp with sweat beneath the delicate white gloves. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, each beat echoing like a drum in her ears. She was so nervous it felt as though her heart might leap into her throat. Her gaze settled on the man before her, a mix of elation and unease swirling within her. Micah Landon—one of Salve City's most eligible bachelors, heir to one of its most powerful families—was about to marry her. It felt surreal, like a fairy tale come to life. A Cinderella marrying her prince, with all the incredulity that entailed. Micah stood tall in his sharply cut suit, his handsome face composed, his demeanor radiating charm and distinction. The unframed glasses perched on his high-bridged nose softened the sharpness of his features, lending his eyes a gentle warmth that seemed deeper than usual. "And now, let's have the bride and groom exchange rings!" The emcee's voice was vibrant, his enthusiasm infectious. A poised bridesmaid stepped forward, carrying a tray with a red velvet base upon which the wedding rings rested. Micah's gaze lowered to the open ring box, and for a fleeting moment, his calm façade faltered. His gentle, smiling expression froze ever so slightly. The warmth and softness in his eyes disappeared entirely, replaced by an unfamiliar coldness. Deidre followed his gaze to the rings, her brow furrowing in confusion. These weren't the rings they had chosen together. What was going on? Micah's hand hovered over the ring box but didn't move to pick one up. An awkward pause settled over the ceremony. The emcee hesitated, his expression reflecting the growing tension in the room. Then a shout broke through the silence. "What's that on the screen?" Heads turned toward the massive display behind them. Deidre instinctively followed their gaze. The screen, which had been playing a slideshow of their sweet, romantic pre-wedding photos, now displayed a completely different set of images. The pictures still showed a man and a woman, but the man wasn't Micah. The first photo revealed Deidre being intimately embraced by a stranger outside a hotel. The next showed her leaning into the same man in a hotel room, their bodies close on a bed. The lively background music continued to play, a jarring contrast to the now stifling atmosphere. Whispers swept through the crowd, their eyes darting toward Deidre. Daring to humiliate Micah, the powerful and revered heir, on his wedding day? And this bride, from her modest family background, had the audacity to wear such a scandalous stain on her character? Deidre felt as if lightning had struck her. Panic surged through her as she snapped her gaze toward Micah. His attention was fixed on the screen. The light from the display reflected off his glasses, making it impossible for Deidre to discern his expression. But the tight line of his lips and the vein bulging at his temple revealed enough. A cold blade seemed to pierce her chest, twisting sharply. The once cheerful wedding music now felt like a cruel mockery. "Micah, I didn't—" Deidre started, her voice trembling. Micah's gaze finally shifted to her, his eyes icy and unreadable behind his glasses. The storm brewing in them made her heart sink further. "I…" She wanted to explain, but no words came. The images on the screen were a mystery to her. She had no memory of them, no explanation for their existence. Who would do this to her? Who would want to ruin her like this? Micah's expression grew colder, a mocking glint appearing in his eyes. He didn't say a word. Instead, he glanced at the bridesmaid holding the tray of rings. He picked up one of the rings, turned sharply, and walked away. "Micah, don't go!" Deidre cried, lifting the hem of her gown as she rushed after him. She grabbed his hand, desperate to stop him. He halted briefly, turning to look at her. His lips curved in a faint, mocking smile, his voice low and biting. "This wedding…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking back to the screen where yet another photo appeared—Deidre asleep in bed, her features serene. Beside her, the same stranger propped his head on one hand, gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed all too intimate. Micah's faint smirk turned into a derisive laugh. "…is off." Each word struck Deidre like an arrow, sinking deep into her heart and leaving a searing pain in their wake. He shook off her hand with enough force to send her stumbling backward. She staggered, unable to steady herself, and fell to the ground, her pristine white gown pooling around her like a defeated flag. Chapter 2 The wedding host, visibly flustered as the groom turned and walked away, hastily gestured to the sound engineer to cut the music. As the cheerful background tunes abruptly ceased, the atmosphere shifted, the murmur of the crowd swelling into an unabashed roar of judgment and speculation. "They've been engaged for over a year, and now this scene unfolds at the wedding? Utter humiliation," someone remarked loudly. "She looks so pure, doesn't she? But clearly, she's got other, shall we say, talents that hooked Micah. Guess she practiced those talents with plenty of others. Walk along the river long enough, and you'll get your feet wet. Someone probably got fed up and exposed her. Tsk, tsk." That particular comment sliced through the air like a shard of glass, sharp and cutting. "Nonsense! I didn't do any of that!" Deidre screamed, her voice raw with desperation. Her outburst only added fuel to the fire. None of the attendees spared her even a modicum of sympathy. They were there for the prestige of the Landon family. Now that she had been abandoned by Micah, who was she to them? A nobody, someone to ridicule without consequence. "Look at her, losing her temper. How unsightly." "Exactly. Instead of finding a hole to crawl into, she's still yelling at others." "Such shameless defiance. Playing the victim while pretending to be saintly—what a joke." "If my daughter ever turned out like this, I'd beat her to death." "Let's go. The wedding's clearly over." The voices piled up, overlapping in waves of cruelty. Deidre's head buzzed with a hollow static. None of it made sense. How had the day turned into this nightmare? No. It couldn't end like this. She slipped off her high heels, hoisting up the heavy layers of her wedding gown, and ran after Micah. Outside the hotel, Micah stood by the open door of his car, flipping through some documents. The sight of him brought a glimmer of hope to Deidre's heart, and she quickened her steps. "Micah!" she called out, her voice trembling with both fear and longing. His hand froze mid-turn, but he didn't look up. Tears welled in Deidre's reddened eyes. "How can you just leave me like this? How can you believe those photos without even hearing me out?" Micah finally lifted his gaze, his eyes cold and detached, like a winter wind slicing through her skin. "One week ago," he began, his voice steady but unyielding, "Westin Hotel, Room 309. Was it you?" The precision of his words hit her like a jolt. A specific time, a specific place—her memory stirred reluctantly to life. Her breath hitched as fragments resurfaced. She had been there. It was her sister Valerie's 18th birthday party, and they'd forced a bottle of whiskey down her throat. The next thing she remembered was waking up alone in that hotel room with a splitting headache. The images from the wedding screen replayed in her mind, overlapping with her fragmented recollection. Could it be? But no—when she had woken up that morning, she was alone. There had been no one else, she was sure of it. Her silence spoke volumes. "Can't answer, can you?" Micah's voice dripped with disdain, dragging her back to the present. "I was there, yes, but—" she began, desperate to explain. "Spare me your excuses," he cut her off icily. He thrust the documents in his hand toward her. "Take a good look. No one's an idiot here." Mechanically, Deidre accepted them, her hands trembling. Her eyes skimmed over the pages—photographs, so many photographs. Many were the same ones that had been displayed on the wedding screen, but these… these included more. Her breath caught in her throat. Among the images, her sister Valerie appeared too, unmistakably linked to the events captured. "This isn't real," Deidre stammered. "I'll call Valerie—she'll explain. This is all a misunderstanding. That night—she—" Her frantic words were abruptly silenced as Micah seized her chin, forcing her to look at him. "It's over, Deidre," he said quietly. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. She saw her own desperation reflected in the lenses of his frameless glasses, his eyes devoid of warmth or mercy. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If only you'd stayed obedient. But there are no 'if onlys.' You hid it well these past two years. I almost believed in you, fooled by that face of yours. But you're tainted. In the end, it was my mistake for thinking you could ever compare to her." Her mind stumbled over his words, catching on one fragment: "Her." Who was he talking about? Before she could grasp it, Micah let out a bitter laugh. With his free hand, he pulled a ring box from his pocket, opening it with a flick of his thumb. Chapter 3 Deidre recognized the wedding ring—it was the same unfamiliar one that had appeared earlier at the ceremony. Micah's voice broke through the heavy air, low and dripping with disdain. "You're not worthy of this ring." Her heart shuddered at his words, and pain flared across her jaw as he harshly released her. Without so much as a glance back, he stepped into the car, slamming the door shut with finality. His expression remained cold as he instructed the driver, "Drive." Desperate, Deidre chased after the car, her bare feet burning against the scorching pavement. The southern Salve City was in the grip of a relentless summer heat, but she barely noticed. The pain in her feet seemed distant, insignificant compared to the ache in her chest. She ran with abandon, her cumbersome wedding gown tangling around her legs, until she tripped and fell hard onto the unforgiving ground. Her knees and elbows scraped against the rough asphalt, bleeding slightly. She looked utterly disheveled, a far cry from the radiant bride she had been moments ago. The driver, catching sight of her pitiful state in the rearview mirror, hesitated. His foot eased off the gas, and he ventured cautiously, "Young Master Micah, Miss Deidre is—" "Did you not understand what I said earlier?" Micah's tone was sharp, cutting. "Yes, sir!" The driver stiffened, not daring to say another word. He pressed harder on the accelerator, and the car sped away. For a fleeting moment, Deidre thought she saw the car slow down. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came. The car roared forward, disappearing into the distance, leaving her behind. She sat where she had fallen, her meticulously applied bridal makeup now smeared and ruined. The oppressive summer sun bore down on her, but she didn't care. Perhaps if her body suffered enough, her heart might hurt a little less. The sound of approaching heels broke through her haze. A shadow loomed over her, and Deidre slowly looked up to see Casey Landon standing before her, her elegant face frosty with disdain. Casey crouched down, bringing their gazes level. Her lips curled into a cold smile as she produced her phone, unlocking it and flipping through her photo album. She held it out for Deidre to see. "Take a good look. This is my brother's first love." Deidre's face drained of color the moment her eyes landed on the photo. The girl in the picture was young, no older than eighteen or nineteen. Her delicate features radiated joy, her hand raised in a playful gesture that highlighted the ring on her slender finger—a ring identical to the one Micah had just dismissed as unworthy of Deidre. Her breath caught. The resemblance was uncanny. The girl's eyes, especially, bore a startling similarity to her own. "This photo," Casey said coolly, "is why my brother took an interest in you." Deidre's mind reeled. 'You're not worthy of this ring.' Micah's words came rushing back, sharper than ever. "So, I'm… her—" Deidre began, her voice trembling. "Her replacement," Casey finished mercilessly. Her tone was detached, but each syllable landed like a dagger to Deidre's heart. "No… that can't be," Deidre murmured, her voice barely audible. Yet her body betrayed her denial, trembling uncontrollably. Though the summer heat was oppressive, she felt as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss. She was a joke. Right from the start, she had been nothing more than a substitute. Casey watched Deidre descent into despair with evident satisfaction, though her anger hadn't quite abated. She raised her hand and struck Deidre across the face. The slap echoed sharply. Deidre's head snapped to the side, her cheek instantly stinging with heat. A vivid red mark bloomed across her pale skin, the outline of fingers clear and unrelenting. "Today, you humiliated my brother in front of everyone," Casey said coldly. "You turned this wedding into the laughingstock of the entire Salve City's elite. You should be thankful my parents left in disgust early on. If they were still here, you wouldn't have gotten off with just a slap." Deidre bit her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Slowly, she turned her face back to Casey, her eyes red-rimmed but resolute. Tears welled up but refused to fall. "I didn't do anything to betray him," she said through clenched teeth. "Spare me the pitiful act," Casey sneered. "Who do you think you're fooling?" Her disgust was unmistakable, simmering just beneath the surface. She straightened, slipping her phone back into her pocket. With a final disdainful glance, she added, "You're just a shameless woman clinging to lies and excuses. Disgusting." Without another word, Casey turned on her heel and walked away. Chapter 4 The reporters had trailed after Micah's car for a good while, hoping to intercept him, but when it became clear that their efforts were futile, they shifted their attention. Like a tidal wave, they surged toward Deidre instead. Vincent Winsley, who had also rushed out, caught sight of Deidre slumped on the ground, her hair disheveled, her expression blank. A surge of fury erupted within him. "You've disgraced me completely!" he spat, his teeth clenched in rage. Without waiting for a response, he stormed over and yanked her up forcefully. Deidre stumbled as he dragged her toward the parking lot, his movements sharp and brimming with frustration. Like a discarded, soulless rag doll, Deidre let herself be shoved into the car. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in an unending loop of Micah's cold words and Casey's venomous taunts. A replacement. The phrase clung to her, refusing to loosen its grip. Deidre's lips curled into a silent, bitter smile. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Micah had believed those photos, no wonder he had so readily embraced such absurd accusations. Trust? There had never been any between them. How could there be trust when all along, he had seen her as someone else? To him, she was merely a shadow, an echo of his lost love. A stand-in needed no trust—only convenience. When she no longer suited his mood, he could cast her aside without hesitation, without remorse. After all, she was just a replacement. Nothing more. For two whole years, she had been ensnared in the illusion of Micah's tenderness, his feigned affection. Even until this very day, she had dared to dream of a future together, of growing old by his side. But now, the illusion was shattered. The truth lay bare, unrelenting in its cruelty. She was nothing but a substitute. And if she had paid closer attention, she might have seen it all along. The signs were there. The way Micah would often stare at her, lost in thought—as if seeing through her, seeing someone else entirely. The pain clawed at her chest, raw and relentless. Why? Why did Micah have to do this to her? Just because she happened to resemble his first love? Did that alone condemn her to this undeserved heartbreak, this torment? "You still have the audacity to cry after committing such shameless acts!" Her father's enraged scolding pierced her thoughts. Deidre didn't even have the strength to argue anymore. Exhaustion weighed down every fiber of her being. She closed her eyes, letting the tears fall silently. But behind her closed lids, she couldn't stop the image from resurfacing—Micah's cold, disdainful gaze, those eyes filled with nothing but contempt. Again and again, the memory replayed, refusing to fade. Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, over and over, each tear exposing fresh wounds, each wound bleeding pain she couldn't contain. … The moment Deidre stepped into the house, pushed forward by Vincent, she stumbled through the doorway into the entryway. As soon as the door clicked shut, his palm came down hard across her face. It struck the same spot Casey had hit earlier—her left cheek—and the sharp sting of pain flared up once more, searing and numb all at once. Deidre's expression didn't even flicker. She had no tears left to shed; the journey home had wrung her dry. All that remained was the dull ache behind her eyes. She stood there like a wooden doll, her gaze hollow and detached, staring at Vincent without truly seeing him. "How dare you humiliate the Landon family like this? How dare you cheat on Micah!" he roared. There was no questioning, no attempt to understand—just an immediate verdict of guilt, a judgment passed without trial. This was her father, Vincent. He had always been like this. The rage that had been simmering within him on the way home boiled over entirely now, erupting with full force. He raised his hand again, his voice thunderous. "I'll beat you to death today. That way, the Landon family won't come after me for this disgrace!" Deidre didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She knew better than to try. It wouldn't make a difference. Another slap landed squarely on her cheek, hard and unrelenting. The pain was distant now, buried under layers of numbness. Her expression remained as lifeless as before. "Look at you! Always that dead, useless look!" Her passive indifference only fueled Vincent's anger further, like oil thrown onto an open flame. His veins bulged at his neck, his face twisted with fury. "Fine! I'll end your life right here!" He glanced around, his eyes landing on a shoehorn resting by the entryway. He grabbed it without hesitation and swung it at her. Blow after blow rained down on her, relentless and furious. The shoehorn struck her arms, leaving bright red welts on her pale skin, each mark stark and startling against its canvas. The door opened again, and Kiera Winsley, her stepmother, appeared. She took in the scene, her voice laced with feigned concern as she exclaimed, "What's going on here? Why are you hitting Deidre?" "Stay out of it!" Vincent snapped, his grip tightening on the shoehorn. "This disgraceful wretch deserves it. end her life would be doing us all a favor." "Now, now," Kiera replied, stepping between Vincent and Deidre, her tone calm yet firm. "She's still your daughter. You can't say things like that." Her words seemed protective, but her eyes betrayed her indifference. There wasn't the faintest glimmer of worry in them. Deidre's gaze drifted to the silhouette of Kiera standing in front of her, shielding her from further blows. For the first time in what felt like forever, her empty eyes focused again. Her voice, hoarse and strained, broke the silence. "Where's Valerie?" Kiera blinked, startled by the unexpected question. She hesitated for a moment before responding, "Your sister and brother took a different car. They'll be home soon." Deidre said nothing more. Without another word, she turned and walked toward the living room. "Look at her! Look at the way she acts!" Vincent fumed behind her, his rage still simmering. Kiera stepped closer to him, her voice soothing as she tried to calm him down. But even as she murmured words of comfort, her gaze followed Deidre, scrutinizing her retreating figure with a calculating glint in her eyes. Chapter 5 After a long string of coaxing and placating, Kiera finally managed to calm Vincent's seething anger to a simmer. She tugged at his arm, steering him towards their room to change out of the formal attire they'd worn for the wedding. As they reached the stairs, Kiera glanced back and saw Deidre sitting quietly on the living room sofa. Her gaze was fixed on the front door, unblinking, her expression unreadable but for the faint furrow in her brows. Kiera hesitated, then called out, "Deidre, go change into something else, won't you?" Deidre didn't move. It was as if her ears had turned deaf to the sound of her stepmother's voice. "That girl's just like her mother—a cursed woman through and through!" Vincent spat as he ascended the stairs. "What bad luck it's been to have a daughter like that!" Deidre's eyes flickered for a moment, a ripple disturbing their stillness. Her hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palms. It wasn't long before Valerie and Johnny returned. The atmosphere in the house had barely settled when their chatter filled the space again. "What a disaster today turned out to be," Valerie muttered as she stepped inside, slipping off her shoes. She paid no attention to the figure rising slowly from the living room sofa. "I told you from the beginning—this match was doomed from the start. Why force it? Marrying into wealth, what a joke..." Johnny trailed behind her, nodding absentmindedly as she spoke. But before she could take another step, she found herself face-to-face with Deidre. Startled, Valerie took a step back, her eyes scanning the figure before her. Deidre stood there in her wedding dress—filthy, tattered, with her hair in disarray. The left side of her pale face was swollen. For a brief moment, Valerie froze, as though she'd seen a ghost. Then her expression twisted into irritation. "What are you doing, standing there looking like that? Trying to scare someone to death?" Deidre's voice was calm, so calm it was unnerving. "It was you, wasn't it? On your eighteenth birthday, you forced me to drink, sent me to that hotel. And the pictures on the wedding screen—those were your doing too." The tone carried no inflection, just a straightforward certainty. It wasn't a question. It was a fact laid bare. Valerie faltered, her bravado wavering under Deidre's steady gaze. "You… I…" Her voice stumbled, and her eyes darted away, the guilt she tried to suppress bubbling to the surface. Before she could stammer out a denial, Deidre's hand moved swiftly. The slap landed on Valerie's cheek. Johnny snapped to attention, rushing forward to push Deidre away. "Don't hit my sister!" Johnny shouted, his fourteen-year-old frame trembling with indignation. The shove was forceful, and Deidre stumbled back several steps before regaining her balance. Valerie, clutching her cheek, finally processed what had happened. Her shock quickly morphed into rage. "Even Dad has never hit me! How dare you?!" she shrieked, rushing toward Deidre with hands outstretched, aiming for her face. But Deidre caught her by the wrist, her grip unyielding. Another slap followed, sharp and deliberate. Her voice, low and icy, cut through the chaos. "You deserve it." "You… you hit me again?!" Valerie's voice cracked into a wail. But before she could retaliate, Deidre's hand moved for the third time, another slap echoing in the room. "Stop hitting Valerie, you useless freak!" Johnny yelled. He rushed over, intending to help his older sister. But when his eyes met Deidre's gaze, he froze. As a fourteen-year-old boy who had been pampered his whole life, he had never seen anyone with such a murderous look in their eyes. Terrified, he hesitated. "Stop it this instant!" Kiera's voice rang out as she descended the stairs, her heels clacking rapidly against the steps. Her sharp eyes took in the scene—her daughter red-faced and wailing, Deidre standing unmoved, cold as stone. "How dare you hit your sister? Have you lost your mind?" Vincent wasn't far behind, his fury reignited at the sight of his precious daughter's reddened cheeks. He stormed down the stairs, his voice shaking with anger. "Hitting your sister like this? I'll end you life myself!" Deidre watched them all—the righteous fury on her father's face, the manufactured concern in her stepmother's eyes, and the unbridled hatred radiating from Valerie. Her chest tightened, the ache so deep it numbed her. Valerie broke through the cacophony with a scream, her voice shrill with rage. "Yes! I did it! I made you drunk that night and sent you to that hotel! And those photos on the screen—I had those taken! You think you deserve to marry into wealth? You're nothing! A crow pretending to be a phoenix—know your place!" Chapter 6 Vincent had been spewing curses at Deidre just moments ago, but upon hearing Valerie's confession, his lips pressed into a rare, tight line. He said nothing. Deidre let out a derisive laugh, her gaze shifting from Valerie to settle on her father. "You heard her, didn't you? You know now who orchestrated today's wedding fiasco. Weren't you so eager to beat me to death earlier? Why aren't you laying a hand on Valerie now?" Vincent remained still, his brows furrowing deeper as he finally spoke. "She's your sister. Watch your tone." "And when she humiliated me in front of an entire banquet hall, did she ever stop to think that I was her sister?" Deidre's voice cracked as she shouted, her anger no longer contained. "She's your daughter. Am I not your daughter, too?" "You're the older one. You should let her have her way," Vincent said, as if his words were carved in stone. "Yes, that's always your answer. Whenever there's a conflict between me and Valerie, you tell me I'm the older one, so I have to give in to her," Deidre said quietly now, her tone steeped in irony. She stood a few steps away, staring at the four people before her, her eyes cold, filled with disdain. Her mother had passed away before she was old enough to form memories. Not long after, Vincent had remarried, bringing Kiera into their home. With her came Valerie and Johnny. In the suffocating silence that followed, Deidre let out a bitter laugh. "I'm just an outsider, aren't I? You're the real family here." Her words pierced through the thin veneer of harmony that had barely held their household together. It shattered like glass. "What kind of look is that? Don't forget, I'm your father!" Vincent barked, enraged by the unmasked contempt in Deidre's eyes. "Following the passing of your mother, you ate my food, wore the clothes I bought. Did you call yourself an outsider then? Don't think earning a scholarship every year makes you someone special. If you're so capable, get out of this house right now and see how far you get without my support! Starve for all I care—just don't come crawling back!" Kiera's eyes gleamed at his words, though her tone remained measured, even gentle. "Why say such harsh things? Deidre is only twenty, and she's still in university. You can't talk to a child like that." Turning to Deidre, she added with a hypocritical kindness, "Deidre, don't take your father's words to heart. Apologize and make peace." "Fine," Deidre replied curtly. Her compliance startled Kiera, who hesitated, unsure what to make of it. This girl had never shown her any respect before, and now, all of a sudden, she was so obedient? The thought didn't sit well. If Deidre were truly driven out of the house, Kiera would no longer have to keep up the facade of a benevolent stepmother. Yet, despite herself, she felt unsettled, as if she had just swallowed a fly. Vincent was equally taken aback by his daughter's uncharacteristic acquiescence. He paused, his expression softening slightly. Clearing his throat, he assumed a more commanding tone. "The matter with the photos at the wedding—Valerie is still young and made a mistake. You've already hit her. Let's put it behind us. If you've done nothing to wrong the Landon family, find a time to clear things up and reschedule the wedding." Running a construction materials company, Vincent's business had been thriving, especially with the Landon family connection. A marriage alliance with the Landons would secure even greater opportunities. Naturally, he hoped Deidre would still marry into that family. The thought of returning the Landon family's generous bride price gnawed at him. That money alone had already covered the cost of raising Deidre for twenty years, and then some. It could ever cover her living costs for another forty years. The idea of losing it was unbearable. "You were engaged to Micah a year ago," he continued, his voice laced with warning. "You've been a part of the Landon family ever since. If they decide they don't want you after this mess, don't think anyone else will have you." "Reschedule the wedding?" Deidre repeated, as though the suggestion was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard. She began to laugh—a deep, bitter laugh that only grew louder, carrying with it a sadness so profound it filled the room. This was her father. A man so blinded by favoritism, he had lost all sense of reason. "What are you laughing at?" Vincent snapped, his brows knitting together tightly. Chapter 7 "I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!" Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives." Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds. In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture. Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough. "Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!" "Don't worry, I'm leaving." The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release. Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago. Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things. Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her." When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on." Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre. He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear." Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave. Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase. She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face. It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved. "You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable." Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you." Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut. Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs. … Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow. From this moment on, she would be alone. She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life? She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away. But now, she had no money. Where could she go? Would she ask Vincent for money? She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements. But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death? Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope. Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly. Perhaps she still had one chance left. She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number. After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?" "It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse. "Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding." Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something." "Go ahead." Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?" The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband. Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare." "Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation." Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words. What was there to say? She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion. "Deidre?" Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end. "Professor, is there still a chance?" "Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else." Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation. "Really... no chance at all?" Chapter 8 It seemed that the professor had sensed the unease in Deidre's voice. After a moment, the warm, familiar tone of her mentor returned over the phone. "There could still be a chance. Let me make a call and try to secure it for you." Deidre had always been a top student. Even though she hadn't finished high school, she had been exempted from exams and directly enrolled in the prestigious university in Salve City, completing both her undergraduate and master's degrees in one continuous stretch. Her mentor, who had always kept a close eye on such promising talent, was not one to let someone like Deidre miss out on such an opportunity. "Thank you. I'll wait for your call," Deidre said, her fingers tightening around the phone, turning pale as she bit down hard on her lower lip. Her heart pounded, the anxiety spreading like fire. She waited for an answer. Each second dragged on painfully, like she was being fried alive in a pan. She gripped her phone, staring at the screen, willing it to bring some resolution. Finally, the screen lit up. It was a call from her mentor. With a nervous breath, Deidre answered. "Good news," came the professor's voice. "A spot's available, and it's yours. Deidre, cherish this opportunity. Remember, no matter what others do, your future is yours to hold in your hands. That's the safest bet." Tears welled up in Deidre's eyes, and she started to cry, her joy so overwhelming that it spilled out of her like a river. She bit her lip, trying to control her shaking voice, and spoke each word slowly and deliberately. "Thank you... Thank you, Professor." "Alright, we'll talk later. I've got a lecture to begin." The screen darkened as the call ended, and Deidre, eyes still brimming with tears, looked out the window. Through her blurred vision, she could make out the faint blue sky, the soft white clouds. The vast expanse of the heavens stretched out before her. There was a way after all. The road had not been completely closed off. … Time passed swiftly. Seven years slipped by unnoticed. In Zemenia City, a bustling commercial hub neighboring Salve City, the evening descended, and the lights flickered on in their dazzling array. In the heart of this prime real estate stood the prestigious Wilton Grand Hotel, a symbol of high society, where the city's elite gathered for their business soirées. Outside the hotel, a barrier of security personnel kept the press at bay, forcing the journalists to crane their necks, helplessly watching the spectacle from a distance. This particular business banquet, however, was by invitation only. Among the luxury cars parked outside, one stood out above the rest: a limited-edition car, the kind that only the ultra-wealthy could afford. Its gleaming body spun gracefully before coming to a halt right in front of the hotel, catching the attention of all those gathered. The door to the driver's side opened, and the man who emerged was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the kind that made his figure appear long and sharp. He pushed up his rimless glasses, and his finely chiseled face caught the light, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles. His eyes shimmered behind the lenses, and the sight instantly drew gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd. "That's Micah Landon from the Landon Group in Salve City, isn't it?" "He's even more handsome and refined in person than in his photos!" Micah glanced around, his gaze cool and detached, masking a momentary flicker of impatience. A smile, barely perceptible, touched his lips as he adjusted the buttons of his suit jacket, walking swiftly around the car to open the door to the passenger side. A slender, pale hand emerged from the car, resting lightly on Micah's arm as a woman gracefully stepped out. Her custom-made gown, an extravagant piece from this season's collection, hugged her slender form. She smiled as she looked up, her face radiant with the kind of poise that made everyone around her hold their breath. The man was elegant, the woman, stunning. They were the perfect picture of grace and beauty, drawing all eyes. "Look! A limited-edition extended Luxury car! My goodness!" The crowd's attention quickly shifted from Micah and the woman beside him to the new arrival. Micah, too, turned his gaze in response to the sound. Soon, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the luxury car. As he looked closer, Micah recognized the man immediately—Connor Halls, the young heir to the Halls family from a country called Milwarke. But just as quickly, Micah's gaze turned to one of astonishment. Standing by the car, the distinguished and handsome man offered a gentlemanly smile, bending slightly as he extended his hand. From the extended luxury car, a graceful woman emerged. Her delicate arm raised, her soft hand resting in Connor's as she descended. Her gown, a hand-crafted European design, clung to her figure, accentuating every curve, while the blue fabric highlighted her fair skin. The simple pearl necklace around her neck caught the light, and Micah—being an expert in jewelry design—immediately recognized it: a rare, limited-edition piece by renowned European designer Laire, a treasure impossible to acquire. But all Micah could feel was shock, as the woman's appearance completely stole his attention. How could it be her? A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd as people wondered about the identity of this poised and beautiful woman. Micah's gaze finally fixed on her face, her flawless features, the delicate oval of her face framed by perfect makeup.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	375	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	beokn.com	IMAGE		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=17042&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/t39.35426-6/474534166_952962703474309_6928140832569371084_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=88KU-Y3BBF0Q7kNvgHUH2iO&_nc_oc=AdjUSoTSg0Gc2a8YRe4IMTcpBUqJljfkWBacAbPVKzBdG3P_dJIneuKOF3gLIYfEQydTq9H2ndE1o8sQJr0jwrn7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ADlJQ6m5bL4NlR4Omuel0iZ&oh=00_AYAR0qIk3jLbvUIsohKn7BZeaDi_wSZmkUYrfTlUptgYeg&oe=67CC1EA1	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,406	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767400}'	Yes	2025-03-03 18:55	active	2790			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/persiankellybundy	Persian Kelly Bundy	https://www.facebook.com/61561804795840/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/persiankellybundy	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481816010_2558930124450371_1142521084091000254_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cwDykpvLdcwQ7kNvgHpDu7I&_nc_oc=AdieFT16fjuqsaaYdd5R3n4QHSdlysv7jZElXBkoYi6s5ixZxsnB42kvNuk_dripZrWQZ8ofQzikr91YxvwwryTG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AxjCjxGpoWC0ADrewSYEwOa&oh=00_AYBe_gbjvpTFnHQRMIw7FkzJ9dp2rt_c0qWLG-4ukCD69w&oe=67CC27B9	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Persian Kelly Bundy	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,767,973	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2767790}'	No	2025-03-03 19:09	active	2791	Chronic Overthinking Test 👉	✨️️️️️️️ Stop overthinking and start living today ✨️️️️️️️ 🎯 Boost confidence: Develop strategies for better decision making and self-esteem 💫 Eliminate negative thoughts: Learn how to identify and reduce toxic thought patterns ⌛ Live in the present moment: Become calm, happy, and trust your intuition	LEARN_MORE	https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	Your Personal Coach Sophia	https://www.facebook.com/61555143686071/	1,871	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	mindway.app	VIDEO		https://mindway.app/start?qz=mw1	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/460430401_494672633382149_4759260890587632284_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yW_YOruhN20Q7kNvgEvMMox&_nc_oc=AdgPVyPoVbYSGxH9ohnZIvXIzYwizhKFj87D-lwII_VgjVFG2yIxlTczahKAkq_UBvHC9U6RV-eQTnqFOGW9TeYR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aj16yEMbWAryjlXskQGlOzG&oh=00_AYDtuj1cTU818uXnhSKWTCm2F_1R9Z3cjP58kbpHLsstqw&oe=67CC079F	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Your Personal Coach Sophia	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,766,283	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2766282}'	No	2025-03-03 18:29	active	2789	$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	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/481223822_2100064367110839_3392435367332898266_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Rg9Tqhi3gHYQ7kNvgG7UY8V&_nc_oc=Adgep_Dgzdpel-GPdr7d8OCm9W8A9cH6bOayZdvV3wuw6ezzI4GgXM42A-s5XFQjixYLdwN2IaKflu3oQDo-FwI6&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8K-3zqGkCMUWjFASPq6sCh&oh=00_AYDzuOPJEsZOSLvKW_0FaNxv5zG1TtSz0KHM7s8ZIcBW8w&oe=67CC2E47	PERSON_PROFILE	0	Full Send Diesel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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