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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pbsUGs8Wu-EQ7kNvgFjMDv6&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYCUo4V_IE_MxYYCrLBM1cqRFbu443KpyAzNtpzihenyDA&oe=670A49AF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pbsUGs8Wu-EQ7kNvgFjMDv6&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYCUo4V_IE_MxYYCrLBM1cqRFbu443KpyAzNtpzihenyDA&oe=670A49AF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pbsUGs8Wu-EQ7kNvgFjMDv6&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYCUo4V_IE_MxYYCrLBM1cqRFbu443KpyAzNtpzihenyDA&oe=670A49AF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 Amelia's POV "Hello, Amelia," the smooth baritone says over the phone, and my eyes go wide immediately. My pulse quickens as my brain produces a face to match the voice almost instantly. It is the one face I had tried so much to get over - the one face that makes my heart beat erratically. "Who is this?" I say, unable to keep the trembling out of my voice as I woefully pretend not to recognize his voice. "Tsk tsk tsk. You don't recognize my voice? That's too bad, Amelia," he says. I can hear the disappointment and slight amusement in his low, smooth baritone. It makes my pulse jump. It makes my mouth dry, even as I moisten my li-ps with my tongue. Ashley, my roommate and best friend, is watching me with her brows furrowed into a question mark across the room. I look away from her, cupping the phone closer to my ear. "What do you want, Mr. Tanner?" I whisper harshly. What could he be calling me about at this time of the night? It is 10 p.m. on a random Tuesday. We haven't spoken in three years since the funeral of my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I have successfully run away, hiding from him, hoping he would not be able to reach me. "I thought we agreed on you addressing me by just Linc." His voice cuts into me, but I can't pull the phone away from my ear. I am drawn, and yet my brain yells at me to just drop the call and block this new number. But I don't listen because he will just call me again. He will always find me, or I always allow myself to be found. Ashley, having sensed my need for privacy, stepped out of the room already. "Mr. Tanner," I take a deep, shaky breath to steady my nerves so I don't sound like a scared, squeaky mouse over the phone, "Why are you calling me at this time of the night with a strange number?" I fail; I bite down on my lower li-p in muffled anger. It's been so long since I heard his voice, his deep baritone voice that sends swarms of butterflies in my lower belly. "Because you blocked all my other numbers and cut everyone else off," he snaps. Though there is still that hint of amusement in his voice, like he is enjoying toying with my emotions like this. He knows what he's doing; he always does, and I swear on my life he could literally picture me shaking for him. "Yes, and?" I say with a brow raise like he can see me, hoping I'm doing a good work at acting unaffected and unbothered as though I hadn't mastur-bated an hour ago with his half-na-ked picture I saved on my phone from social media account. Hell yes! You can say I'm stalking him, too. God! Seeing him shirtless, his shorts hanging lower beneath his hi-p brought waves of forbidden feelings I never knew existed within me. "Ames, darling, you worry me," Linc Tanner, my stepfather breathes into the phone, and heat rises to my face at that danm nickname. That nickname coming out from his forbidden li-ps, capable of making my toes curl, my knees bend before him, taking all of him deep into my throat. "Don't call me that!" I yell, cutting him short. My face is going red. I hate the way my body reacts to him. Every part of me awakens at the sound of his voice. It terrifies me; it excites me. "I will call you what I want," he replies calmly and dangerously low and then continues in the same calm tone like I am not huffing and puffing over the phone at him, "It has been three years, and I needed to know how you were doing. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," He pauses like he is rethinking his choice of words, and I hold my breath, refusing to think too much about the fact that he just said he hasn't been able to stop thinking about me, "Wondering how you were coping," he adds finally. I exhale. The sudden vulnerability in his voice drives a sharp sting directly to my heart. It hurts for a second, and then I pull my defensive walls up again, guarding that traitorous organ called the heart. "It is not in your place to worry about me. I am not your responsibility. I am doing perfectly fine on my own," I bite back, but deep down a surge of joy was gradually brimming. He obviously has not called me to talk about my shortcomings in the way I handled the aftermath of my mother's funeral three years ago. That is why I had his numbers blocked. I know Linc Tanner is rich enough to find me within days, but I hoped that common sense would tell him not to bother me regardless, and he didn't. "You know that is not true. I am your guardian; of course, it is in my place to worry about you," Linc says, his smooth baritone pierces me like a lash. I imagine him pulling his hand through his thick wavy jet-black hair in quiet frustration. It is one of the things I noticed about him immediately when I was first introduced to him four years ago. That thick midnight dark hair. For his age, it was ridiculous for his hair to still be that youthful looking, that mouthwatering, the hottest man I have ever set my eyes on. But that was Linc Tanner. A walking contradiction of a man. Chapter 2 I snap myself to reality when I realize I have started trailing off into memories I have tagged forbidden. this"So, what do you want now, stepfather?" I hear his light chuckle, and I can't help the flutter in my belly from absorbing the rich sound. I can almost smell him. I remember what he smelled like. God! it's imprinted in my brain. It is embarrassing, but I can admit that I look for that scent in every man I have gone out with since, but to no success. It belonged to Linc Tanner alone. Just like my silly heart. Mint, dark coffee, something dark and mysterious thrown in the mix and a whiff of something floral and yet overwhelmingly masculine. I used to smell him in the house before he even got to the room I was in, with my mom on his arm, dark onyx eyes seeking mine like a storm. "I kind of prefer Mr. Tanner to that stepfather title. Makes me feel old, and the way you say it adds a perverted undertone to it," he says after a moment. His tone is light; it is a rebuff he has used several times before when I used to call him that as a sort of childish rebellion to the dismay of my mother who insisted I call him by his name or worse, dad. "Whatever," I snap. I hate having to think about my mother or the period during that summer before I left for college when I had to stay with them, and it was low-key the worst few weeks of my life in that house. "Still that temper. It is good to know you haven't changed much, Ames darling," Linc says with a light chuckle. But he is wrong. At least I hope so. I hope I have changed enough. But with the way my heart flutters every time he calls me that nickname in that rich baritone of his, I can't be sure I have changed much, and it is embarrassing. "I need you to tell me why you have called, Linc. Cut the whole thing about you worrying about me and all that bullshiit. I know you have eyes on me. I have seen her. What do you want?" My anger comes back to shield my foolish heart; it wraps around my che-st like a vice. Whatever he has been paying the woman following me for the past three years should be halved. She is terrible at her job. She doesn't even try to be hidden. "Okay. Okay. Sheathe your claws, tigress," Linc says. There is no chuckling this time. He doesn't even try to deny it. It makes me angrier, but I bite my tongue. Once I hear what he is calling for, we will talk about that danm female bodyguard. "I need you to come back home for your break tomorrow. Your plane tickets are ready, everything is set in place," Linc says, his voice dangerously set and rigid, my mouth opens and closes. Again, I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am beyond dumbfounded. Not at the fact that he knows the exact timing of my summer break, but the finality and air of authority of his tone. "What!" Finally, I scream into the phone. "What the fck are you talking about?! I am not coming back! You better say you're joking right now!" I scream into the phone. Courtesy be danmed. I don't care if Ashley can hear me. I don't care if I am being rude. He has lost his mind if he thinks he can just command me to come back to New York out of the blue like this. After three whole years of no contact! Though I was the one that initiated the no-contact rule, that is beside the point. "You are and you will," Linc says and the calmness in his voice threatens to push me to the edge. He has no rights! Have I not made this clear enough! "I don't know how to say this nicely, Mr. Tanner, but I genuinely do not want anything to do with you. My mother is dead. She is not here anymore. I am not obligated to feel related to you because we are not related. I am not coming back to New York, and that is final," I say, breathing heavily. My eyes narrow on the floral pattern of my quilt, and I feel like I could go crazy with the way my heart is racing, flashes of forbidden memories running through my mind. Mental snapshots of Linc walking out of the luxurious infinity pool on the rooftop of his mansion and his immaculate figure, toned wide shoulders, long muscular legs like tree trunks, chiseled torso, me hiding behind the lounge door, watching him like a creep, the water dripping down his hairy front body, snaking into his navel, down his briefs with that noticeable bulge, and his dark eyes catching mine immediately like he knew I was there all along, watching him. "Amelia. Listen to me," Linc's domineering voice cuts into me, and I rip my focus away from those danm memories. That summer is cursed. I can't think of that time without feeling a heap of guilt and the sense of awakening into something bigger than myself, in those stolen glances, fantasies, and sleepless nights where I imagined what it would be like to be the one sharing Linc's bed instead of my mother. I felt treacherous even though me and my mother and I had never been particularly close. "No! I am not coming back, and you can't make me!" I yell. "Amelia!" Linc's annoyed voice snaps me to attention. I bite my tongue. Squeezing the phone in my hand. I grit my teeth in annoyance. I didn't have any specific plans for the holiday, though I was thinking about my internship options. Since it is my sophomore year, I am supposed to spend my summer break interning at any reputable architectural company that will take me. "It is something your mother wanted," Linc says, his voice going back to calm and collected. Of course. She would still continue to mess up my life even when she is no longer here. Chapter 3 It is aggravating, all the complex feelings she evokes in me. Our relationship wasn't the typical mother-daughter bond. Because she wasn't the typical mother by any means. Kathryn Dimitri was a socialite through and through. She was glamorous and loud and enjoyed going to dinner parties, soirees, any excuse to have fun and drink champagne, flirting with the throng of men who were always sniffing around her. It always stung when people noted how different we looked. They always looked at her elegant auburn bold beauty and my muted blonde prettiness and concluded I paled in comparison, just like my skin. Mother always threw her head back with a delightful laugh when those men paid her compliments at my expense. That was one of the reasons why I hated spending time at home. With her. She always made me feel like an unwanted attachment to her person. An attachment that never quite measured up. Sometimes, I think to myself that my attraction to Linc was a rebellion. It was a cowardly one because I never acted on any of my fantasies, but it was a rebellion nonetheless, and it felt good. When just three months into college, enjoying my freedom from her and that suffocating mansion where I had to hide my blushing face whenever Linc was in the room, I got the call that she had died in a car accident all the way in Paris on her way to another of her glamorous parties, I felt a wave of grief so huge, so encompassing and utterly confusing that my world paused. I went through the funeral in a muted daze. I faintly remember Linc holding me as I finally broke down and cried on the third night when I wanted to return to college. Wanted to escape. The reassuring way he held me. Tenderly. Like I was too fragile and could break apart against his huge body. I got on the plane and arrived back in college, and I could still smell his scent on me. I didn't wash the dress I wore for weeks. "She wanted you to intern at my firm. She wanted me to keep an eye on you. To take care of you and safeguard your future. You like to act tough, but you really have no one else in this world, and that makes me feel empathetic towards you. You can view me as this big bad monster stepfather and I don't care, but I do care about you, and I wouldn't sit back and watch you struggle when I could do something about it. Amelia, please. It would be for just three months. Come to New York. Come home," Linc says, the genuine sincerity in his voice bites at me. I blink back, furious tears, feeling the anger dissipating into that warm feeling I hate feeling towards him because it felt wrong. "Ames..." He says gently when I don't reply. I am too busy pushing back the lump in my throat. He knows he has touched a nerve because he is right. I am truly alone in this world. All of my mother's connections and circle of friends and even families, nobody gave a danm about me after the funeral. My late dad has family in Portugal, but we were not really close before he died. With my mom gone too, I was left alone, and it didn't hit as hard because before she died, I always felt alone, shuffling from boarding school to college, we never bonded in any special way. I was always alone in my little world. But in moments like this, when someone like Linc who knew me, knew my mother and I, reminds me how utterly alone I am, it breaks my heart. "Okay. I will come back to New York." My heart flutters at my resignation because I know there is nothing I could possibly do about it. I accept it. I guess I have to go back to fighting my forbidden attraction to my stepfather. For just three months. I can survive that long without doing anything I might regret. I hope. ******* Linc Tanner's POV: The golden blonde full-grown woman seated in front of me is not the soft-spoken, shy eighteen-year-old Amelia I remember. I am taken aback by how much she has grown, that eyes that could make a grown man weak, that full mouth that I eager to taste, but I manage to keep my face expressionless. She is stunning. When she walked in a minute ago, I couldn't take my eyes off her, my greedy eyes taking in every detail of her womanly curves. It made me tingle for all the wrong reasons. She is currently glaring at me from her position on the chair in front of my desk. I tell myself I have kept an eye on her over the years because of a sort of loyalty to Kathryn, but in reality, I just couldn't bear not knowing how Amelia was doing, couldn't bear thinking about her being in the arms of another man, moaning and crying out his name instead of mine. She is a brave, strong girl, but I couldn't just let her go. My body couldn't let her go. She made my heart ache. I'm most definitely proud of her just thinking of her out there, all on her own. She reminds me of myself at the same age, hustling against all odds to make a name for myself. "Why did you come here directly?" I ask, breaking the ice between us. It has been three years, and we didn't even exchange a smile. She is on guard towards me, and I am walking on eggshells, trying not to upset her. "I figured we should get to it immediately," Amelia says. The softness of her voice is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that is confident and so womanly. I shake my head to ward off any more misleading thoughts. "Oh c'mon, Amelia. I asked that they chauffeur you to the house." I thought she would appreciate the rest. But here she is, glaring at me. "Do you stay alone?" She asks, catching me off guard. "Yes," I say, cautiously. Her boldness and the way she is holding my eyes are making me feel uneasy. I don't remember her being this confident. I used to find her extreme shyness amusing then. Interesting. Now I find her confidence highly attractive. Erotic. Fvck! Linc. Goddammit! Control yourself. Chapter 4 We have some history between us from that one summer three years ago before she ran away to college. But I am proud of myself for keeping things in control when she was just an eighteen-year-old rebellious teen. Now that she is all grown, I can't promise that I would be able to control myself much. This woman sitting across from me could bring any man to his knees, and I don't fvcking care falling on my knees in front of her as her legs open up for me, taking in the scent of her arousal, tasting her. Merely looking at her, I know she tastes like pure sugar. "Then I am not staying in that house. You have to get a place for me," she says, not adding the unspoken part. That she doesn't want to stay alone with me. "It is a big house, Amelia." I tried to clear my voice, It is a mansion, but I understand if she doesn't want to stay with me. I guess that could be weird. Without Kathryn in the midst, what would we do with each other? I don't want to dwell on that train of thought. "I don't care." She folds her arms over her front body, and my eyes get drawn to her che-st. I want to peel my eyes away, but I am powerless against her quietly confident feminine aura. She is wearing a pale blue sundress with a black sweater over it, but the pale blue of the dress makes her eyes stand out so clearly, she radiates like a beam of sunlight sitting across from me. She used to be pale, but her complexion has matured with a golden tint that teases down her long graceful neck into her deep-V line. I yank my eyes up to meet hers; thankfully, she is looking out the window. I note the multiple piercings in her ears, and a chuckle escapes me as I imagine the fit that Kathryn would have thrown if she could see her. "What is so funny?" she snaps, turning to fix me with her startling blue eyes. "Nothing. I will have someone look for a place for you that is close to the firm. Fine?" "Yes. Thank you." I don't mention that she would stay in the house with me until we find a place. It is unnecessary; she knows. "Come, let me show you around," I say, getting up, eager to move around before finding myself distracted, watching her like a aroused freak. I walk to her side to take her hand; she ignores me and tries to get up on her own. She takes a step forward, and it all happens too fast. She trips on her feet in front of me, falling backward with her eyes wide in terror. I shooot forward, grabbing her by her slim waist instead of her outstretched hand. I pull her forward until she is stable on her feet; our bodies collide, and I hear the soft gasp leave her full li-ps. A headiness clouds my thoughts. Her body is intoxicatingly soft pressed against me like this. My primal reaction startles me as all the blood rushes southward. Our faces are inches from each other; her large doe-like eyes blink up at me, and her rosy li-ps are slightly open. It takes all of my self-control to not just crash my mouth to hers and taste them. God knows how badly I have always wanted that. "Why do you not want to stay at the house with me?" I ask, ripping my eyes away from her tempting li-ps to look into her eyes. They hold mine with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and defiance. The combination makes my blood rush faster. "You know why," Amelia breathes, so close, so overwhelmingly stunning. Soft and dangerous. Grown and lethal. She overshadows my common sense, even at just eighteen. I only managed to stay away because of Kathryn, her mother. But now, three hard years later, she is in my arms, and there are no hindrances. I hold onto her waist tightly; she doesn't resist my touch, but she is not exactly leaning into me. She is frozen in place, and I get the feeling that if I let go, she would run. I can't lose her again. Danming all consequences, I lean in; my vision narrows in on the most perfect pair of li-ps I have ever seen, the whole world quietens with a hush. Chapter 5 Amelia's POV "Mr. Tanner, I have the reports..." A cheery voice interrupts the moment. "Oh! I am sorry." The woman's surprised, high-pitched voice intrudes on the madness that is my lust-filled brain and snaps me out of my reverie. His strong arm around my waist loosens its grip, and I take the opportunity to move away from the furnace of the man, my heart thundering at what almost happened. I didn't even hear the door open. His firm li-ps only grazed mine before the interruption, but I feel like it was more with the way my heart is beating fast. I have not been here longer than an hour, and I have already found myself in his arms. We almost kissed. And I hoped to survive three whole months with him without doing anything I might regret? That seems like such a practical joke now. Linc is forbidden, a no-go area, he's fire, if I get too close, he would burn me. Seeing Linc's trim, muscled figure in his form-fitting grey suit, his devastatingly handsome, resistant-to-aging face with those dark, piercing onyx eyes has reminded me just how easily my body gives in to him. His quiet, effective charm has reminded me why I ran. Why that summer really tough for me. Fighting this forbidden attraction to my middle-aged stepfather, who is forty-one while I am just twenty-one. He is literally old enough to be my father. But yet he pulls me. And I am powerless once he pins me with those eyes. I am weak. My body surrenders without much resistance. "Drop them on the desk," he says, his dark eyes still trained on me, his back to the woman frozen at the door glaring at me with such venom it scares me. I move further away. I need to escape him. But I know it is futile. Linc would find me. This attraction between us feels inevitable now. There is a quiet countdown ringing like a third heartbeat between us. Coming back was a mistake. Linc Tanner is not the kind of man one forgets. Or moves on from. I still feel the same way as I did three years ago, if not stronger. And now there is one less excuse as to why we shouldn't give in to this dark desire. "Uhm, sir, it needs your signature so I can send it back to..." "Charlotte, drop them on the desk!" Linc raised voice startles me and the woman, who quickly drops the files and hurries out. Linc doesn't turn away from me. He keeps his eyes on me, watching me like a hunter hunting his prey. I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry. Naked hunger is present in the depth of those shimmery dark eyes, and I have to clentch my fists together to gain some control over my senses. This is all shades of wrong. And yet so right. So necessary. It is official, I have lost my danm mind. How the hel are we going to sleep in the same house tonight without something forbidden happening between us? I can almost picture it, and it makes my pulse race faster. "Um. I should go." I say when I reach the door. Where am I going? I have no idea but I know I have to get away from this office right now before I find myself climbing my stepfather like a tree right here in his office. I know the nak-ed hunger in his eyes reflects mine. I am just as aroused. Just as willing to be reckless. Caution was thrown to the wind as soon as I agreed to come back. "Okay." His usually smooth baritone comes out cracked, he pauses and clears his throat, he starts walking towards me and my heart skips a beat, but then he turns to the left, towards his desk and I blink back my disappointment. "Take a tour of the firm. Choose whatever department you want to intern at. Then we can go to dinner." His mouth is a set line as he settles at his desk like he wasn't just about to kiss me a moment ago. "Dinner?" I croak, still visibly shaken up by what almost happened between us. I still feel the weight of his strong arm wound tightly around my waist. The possessiveness of his hold. The way his eyes narrowed in on my face before he leaned in to me for the kiss. It all makes me feel heady. "Yes. I made a reservation." He says looking up to meet my eyes, I hold his gaze. "I don't feel up to that." I say, looking away first as his eyes bore into me. One day, I will wi-n our spontaneous silent staring battle. "What? Let me guess, you are not hungry?" He asks with a small chuckle. It brings flashbacks of that summer three years ago when I used to deny being hungry so I could stay away from him and my mother. Only to sneak back to the kitchen at midnight to raid the fridge for leftovers. Linc caught me several times and the embarrassment still feels so heavy right now with the way he is watching me. Mischievous amusement shining in his eyes. "Fvck off." I snap. I can't stand his teasing in moments like this. I hate that he knows me all too well. "Now, now, Ames darling. I don't appreciate that tone." He says but his voice is still teasing and light. I can't believe we almost kissed just a moment ago and here he is, teasing. He confuses me. And somehow, that seems to be the allure. Other than the fact that he is my fcking stepfather. "Whatever. I am not going out to dinner with you." I cross my arms, his eyes follow the motion and heat rises up my cheeks. A moment passes between us. An impasse. "Okay, we will eat at home. I'll call my private chef." He says at last. I can't argue with that, so I just nod in passive agreement and push the door behind my back so I can escape the office. Escape his impossible charm. ******* "So, which department are you going to intern at?" Linc says, wiping his mouth with a triangle shaped napkin. The table is being cleared by the chef's assistants, I nod my appreciation to them for a great home dining experience. Linc doesn't even acknowledge them. "I don't know yet." I say because I truly don't. His firm is so large. So multifaceted. I have so many options but I have narrowed it down to either the creative designing or engineering departments since I have majored in both at college. "Okay. Take your time." He says. I refuse to allow myself feel the impact of his smooth baritone as it washes over me across the dining table. "Yeah." I should probably add my thanks but I don't. The staff finishes clearing out the table and they leave immediately, leaving us alone to our awkwardness. I swallow. The soft light of the overhead chandelier is cast directly on my face and I feel like he is watching me closely. His eyes, those dreamy but predatory eyes watches my every move. I could literally feel like he was looking at me to expose me, to expose my deepest secrets, secrets I would kil to have them concealed, but with Linc, just one move from him, his mouth on me and his hand in-between my legs, my entire being will open up to him on it's own accord, and when his fire burns me, my secrets will be revealed. Chapter 6 Linc had the house restructured, and so it doesn't hold much sentiment for me. I was slightly shocked when I first got in, but now it has ebbed. The mansion is like a luxurious minimalist hotel. Oddly, I felt comfortable and at ease. But I know I can't stay here for too long. I simply can't. "Um, so, about the apartment you would rent for me. How is that coming along?" I say, enunciating my words carefully. I see a tic in his jaw, and I swallow. I remember the way he asked me why I didn't want to stay with him as he held me in his arms earlier in his office. The nak=ed vulnerability in his eyes. The way he was looking at me, it scares me, hypnotize me and locks me in. "You just told me a few hours ago." He says, interlacing his svelte fingers on the table as he leans forward. I can't read the expression on his face, whether it is annoyance or amusement. "Yeah. But it is something that you can sort out in a really short time. Aren't you like a billionaire or something?" That was why Mom was besotted with him. Linc Tanner has been in Forbes. His architectural firm has worked on top multi-billion dollar projects across the country. He is dark and mysterious and a hot forty-one-year-old. "Yes, I am a billionaire." He says, with a smirk. "You are avoiding my question." The house has gone quiet. All the bright lighting has been switched for dimmer ones. I am sure all the staff have left. It is just us now. Coming to this realization opens me up to my forbidden thoughts about being alone with Linc. Wild things that had invaded my dreams for so long, just me and him alone in the house, starring at each other, reaching out to each other, eating out each other. "What if I simply don't want to get you an apartment? What if I don't want you to stay away from me? Why the he-ll would you be staying in some apartment when I have a mansion here you can stay in?" His smirk is gone, and he is pinning me to the spot with his dark eyes. My pulse starts racing. My mouth goes dry. "That is not what you promised!" I yell, getting out of my seat. What the heck does he mean he doesn't want me to stay away from him? "Ames, Ames darling. Sit down." He says, his voice is oddly calm and controlled. It only makes me angrier, and I flip my middle finger at him as I turn around to walk away. I don't hear him walking up to me till he grabs my wrist and spins me around to face him. The motion pulls my body too close, so we are inches away from each other. Twice in just one day, my breath escapes me in an audible gasp. "Why the he-ll are you so stubborn? It is kiling me keeping my hands to myself already, and you have to go and push me." He hisses under his breath at me, but I hear him clearly because we are very close. The expansive kitchen peels away from my vision. The house. The soft lights. Everything. All I can see is Linc, and up close, he is stunning. He's dangerous, he overwhelms me, he could literally set me on fire with thst forbidden mouth of his. I don't have any power when he is this close. My knees go weak. I forget my anger. "I can't stay here with you." I say quietly, my voice trembling. His hand holding my wrist is like a brand on my skin. Am I agreeing this accommodation thing? The house is huge. We can steer clear of each other for the duration of the three months. The firm is huge too. I can spend my internship there, and we will never run into each other. Nobody even has to know about our connection if I keep quiet about it. But the way my body involuntarily leans towards him, the way my belly erupts with liquid fire every time he looks down at my face, I just know. I couldn't possibly stay here alone with him without giving in and doing something I would surely regret. "Why?" He asks, his face a closed-off mask, his li-ps set in a tight line. Our faces are just inches apart from each other, my back is pressing against the hard edge of the polished wood of the dinner table, but I don't register the discomfort. There are too many sensations to be felt standing this close to Linc Tanner, that pain is temporary. "What do you mean, 'why?'" I throw back at him, breathing as regularly as I can, but my breaths come out choppy and raspy. I need to move away from him. "Because I don't understand it, Ames." He snaps, his grip on my wrist tightens. I wince, and then he looks at his hand like he didn’t realize he has been holding onto me all this while. He lets me go. "Okay, but why won't you let me go?" I pull my chin up at him, our li-ps barely inches apart now. I meant it as a defiant move, but one look from him and I regret it, but I don't back down. One look at my li-ps I shake. One look at my face accessing me, I'm soaked. "This is why." Linc covers the distance between us, and my world erupts in bright scattered lights as he claims my mouth. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=13363&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/455809717_839796481589975_8610924600163890728_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=pbsUGs8Wu-EQ7kNvgFjMDv6&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYCUo4V_IE_MxYYCrLBM1cqRFbu443KpyAzNtpzihenyDA&oe=670A49AF | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Where’d Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a woman’s sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husband’s so-called best friend. “What were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!” “I did it willingly for my wife,” I heard Jared’s steady, deep voice. “You changed, Jared. This isn’t you. What has your wife done to you?” “Huh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?” “Stop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!” Sofia’s shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? “Shut up! Don’t drag me into your divorce!” Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didn’t ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotional… A sob escape Sofia’s throat. She moved into Jared’s arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. “I have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,” I said coldly. “And if I don’t? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?” She asked, hands akimbo. “Stop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.” “You still don’t see the truth, do you?” She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, “Who do you think Jared would save first?” What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending we’d both fallen. God, she’s so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldn’t speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but then—he turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461524666_507715242042569_4342284218380827708_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-Qe0v5CgMVIQ7kNvgGiIRn9&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYAnY1EM6pbUIDClL8Yk3zakuONsEbu4lXbqoZqpZUxfHw&oe=670A5E01 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Where’d Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a woman’s sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husband’s so-called best friend. “What were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!” “I did it willingly for my wife,” I heard Jared’s steady, deep voice. “You changed, Jared. This isn’t you. What has your wife done to you?” “Huh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?” “Stop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!” Sofia’s shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? “Shut up! Don’t drag me into your divorce!” Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didn’t ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotional… A sob escape Sofia’s throat. She moved into Jared’s arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. “I have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,” I said coldly. “And if I don’t? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?” She asked, hands akimbo. “Stop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.” “You still don’t see the truth, do you?” She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, “Who do you think Jared would save first?” What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending we’d both fallen. God, she’s so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldn’t speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but then—he turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461524666_507715242042569_4342284218380827708_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-Qe0v5CgMVIQ7kNvgGiIRn9&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYAnY1EM6pbUIDClL8Yk3zakuONsEbu4lXbqoZqpZUxfHw&oe=670A5E01 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | It was 1 AM when I woke up from a bad dream. I was all alone. Where’d Jared run off to? I propped up my slightly round belly and headed downstairs to find him. Just as I approached the hallway, a woman’s sweet voice became clearer. It was Sofia, my husband’s so-called best friend. “What were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle? How could she make you pick her up late from work? You should be resting after a stressful day instead of being her driver!” “I did it willingly for my wife,” I heard Jared’s steady, deep voice. “You changed, Jared. This isn’t you. What has your wife done to you?” “Huh? You failed your marriage, now judge mine?” “Stop it Jared, you know it, you know I divorced my husband because of you!” Sofia’s shrill voice cried out. My eyes widened. What the hell? “Shut up! Don’t drag me into your divorce!” Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury but it didn’t ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act so emotional… A sob escape Sofia’s throat. She moved into Jared’s arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. Then I saw Jared wrap his arms around her. Angry, and totally disgusted, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of their excesses! I was about to leave after the packing, but just at the entrance, Sofia stood there, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face. “I have no strength for this, Sofia. Move,” I said coldly. “And if I don’t? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?” She asked, hands akimbo. “Stop pretending. Go beg Jared for attention if you want his pity.” “You still don’t see the truth, do you?” She stepped aside with a laugh. I walked past, but she called out, “Who do you think Jared would save first?” What? Before I could respond, I felt a hard shove. I tumbled down the stairs, pain shooting through my body. Sofia screamed beside me, pretending we’d both fallen. God, she’s so despicable! As I lay there, gasping for air, Jared rushed in. I couldn’t speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby! He knelt by me, but then—he turned to Sofia. And just before everything went black, I saw him pick her up over me. | LEARN_MORE | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | nvwibcnshop.com | DCO | https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14537&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/t39.35426-6/461524666_507715242042569_4342284218380827708_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-Qe0v5CgMVIQ7kNvgGiIRn9&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYAnY1EM6pbUIDClL8Yk3zakuONsEbu4lXbqoZqpZUxfHw&oe=670A5E01 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&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/t39.35426-6/461342461_541393011637127_6694870967050170909_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ScDGCXeticsQ7kNvgFa787v&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYBkJebgL97sJ_KneFvrJIhZdA378GwnEv2rTcUTWih20g&oe=670A74FC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&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/t39.35426-6/461342461_541393011637127_6694870967050170909_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ScDGCXeticsQ7kNvgFa787v&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYBkJebgL97sJ_KneFvrJIhZdA378GwnEv2rTcUTWih20g&oe=670A74FC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 184 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&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/t39.35426-6/461342461_541393011637127_6694870967050170909_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ScDGCXeticsQ7kNvgFa787v&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AXB6J2Tble5x4jacFRKb4L9&oh=00_AYBkJebgL97sJ_KneFvrJIhZdA378GwnEv2rTcUTWih20g&oe=670A74FC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Custom couple heart-shaped carving night light | 💘 Personalized couple heart-shaped carving night light 😍 buy now 🎁 https://www.jacacas.com/SK221 💘😍 The perfect gift for your friends or family | SHOP_NOW | https://www.jacacas.com/SK221 | jacacas.com | https://www.facebook.com/jacacascom/ | 61 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop now | 0 | jacacas.com | IMAGE | Personalized couple heart-shaped carving night light | https://www.jacacas.com/SK221 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/409453761_6898470670246763_1466778917016237346_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0fWSn_79olsQ7kNvgFB-h1T&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYBmQjxMZ0pR65QFtG-G1qPvUeq3PLyI0Gg0EsNcH4BZ7g&oe=670A672F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | jacacas.com | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Custom Photo Calendar Keyring | 💘 Personalized Photo Calendar Keyring 😍 buy now 🎁 https://www.wiieo.com/SK122 💘😍 The perfect gift for your friends or family | SHOP_NOW | https://www.wiieo.com/SK122 | wiieo.com | https://www.facebook.com/wiieocom/ | 170 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop now | 0 | wiieo.com | IMAGE | Personalized Photo Calendar Keyring | https://www.wiieo.com/SK122 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/406889549_716353013478845_7780886817685799122_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4nIsJ4NlHgYQ7kNvgHMIKbR&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYCCwwGntAlUx7OiqJirQIU_4RSvcQNuLtSWMOs4ezHArQ&oe=670A5E4F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | wiieo.com | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 20 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bORx4jBhIiUQ7kNvgGCWEk-&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYD9CEEn3Sdpo4gpa8pFLllDTN_k7nKHcl8PBHHcK0HfQA&oe=670A4F3B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 20 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bORx4jBhIiUQ7kNvgGCWEk-&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYD9CEEn3Sdpo4gpa8pFLllDTN_k7nKHcl8PBHHcK0HfQA&oe=670A4F3B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 20 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mgtR7zpUGfQQ7kNvgH4Lkuq&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYBX951sxVifmOEuqlPr6noTcfstLLRkRO3BHqPL29fPQQ&oe=670A50CC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 20 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mgtR7zpUGfQQ7kNvgH4Lkuq&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYBX951sxVifmOEuqlPr6noTcfstLLRkRO3BHqPL29fPQQ&oe=670A50CC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 20 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mgtR7zpUGfQQ7kNvgH4Lkuq&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYBX951sxVifmOEuqlPr6noTcfstLLRkRO3BHqPL29fPQQ&oe=670A50CC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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❤️😍What happens next👉 | Chapter 1 Yvette Snyder stood at the entrance of the hospital, her body frail, clutching a report in her thin hands. Three words on the report stood out: "No conception detected". "You've been married for three years. How are you not conceived?" Her mother, Yara Cadwell, demanded, jabbing a finger in Yvette's face disappointedly. Yara was dressed lavishly and wore high heels. "Why are you so useless? If you don't get conceived soon, the Lanes are going to kick you out of the family. What's going to happen to our family then?" Yvette looked at Yara blankly. She had a lot to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. In the end, all she could manage was, "I'm sorry." "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to give birth to Xavier's child. Do you understand me?" Yvette's throat felt tight; she didn't know how to answer Yara. In their three years of marriage, her husband, Xavier Lane, had never slept with her. How could she ever have his child? Yara stared at Yvette. The latter's weak demeanor was so unlike her own. Finally, she said coldly before leaving, "If you really can't give him a child, then find him a woman who can. At least he'll appreciate you for that." Yvette stared after Yara's retreating figure in disbelief. Had her own mother just told her to find another woman for her husband to sleep with? ... As Yvette made her journey home, she couldn't stop thinking about Yara's parting words. Suddenly, a loud ringing in her ear drowned out her thoughts. She knew that her condition had worsened. Just then, she received a message on her phone. It was from Xavier, and the content was the same as always. "I'm not coming home tonight." In the past three years they had been married, Xavier had never spent the night at home before. He had never so much as touched Yvette either. Yvette could remember their wedding night three years ago. He had told her, "Since your family is bold enough to trick me into marrying you, you'd better be prepared to spend the rest of your life in loneliness." Three years ago, the Snyder and Lane families had decided to form an alliance through marriage. Both families had agreed to mutually beneficial terms in the agreement. But when the day of the wedding came around, the Snyder family went back on their word and transferred all of their assets away, including the billions that Xavier had paid to marry Yvette. Yvette's eyes dulled at the memory. She replied to Xavier's text with her usual response: "Okay." Without her realizing it, the report she was holding got scrunched up in her hands. When she got home, Yvette tossed the report into the trash can. Every month, around this time, she would feel unusually lethargic. Yvette didn't prepare dinner for herself. She just leaned back on the couch, blearily drifting in and out of sleep. The rumbling in her ear persisted. That was another reason why Xavier hated her—she was hard of hearing, which, to the rich and powerful, was no better than being crippled. Xavier would never allow her to carry his child. … At 5 o'clock in the morning, the pendulum clock on the wall chimed dully. Xavier would be home in an hour. Yvette realized too late that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She got up hastily and went to the kitchen to prepare Xavier's breakfast. Xavier was a meticulous man who was strict about punctuality, not only with himself but also with the people around him. He arrived home at six o'clock sharp. Xavier was a tall and handsome man. Clad in a smart tailored suit, his demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet undoubtedly masculine. However, to Yvette, he was cold and distant. Xavier didn't even look at Yvette. He walked right past her to look at the food on the table and said with a scoff, "You do this every day. Are you a nanny or what?" Over the past three years, Yvette had been doing the same things over and over again. She wore the same dark clothes and replied to his messages with the same singular word. If it hadn't been for the business alliance and the Snyders' deceit, Xavier would never have married a woman like Yvette. At the word "nanny", the rumbling in Yvette's ears returned. She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat, and said bravely, "Xav, do you have someone that you like?" Her sudden question surprised Xavier. His eyes darkened. "What do you mean by that?" Yvette raised her head and stared at him, swallowing the bile rising in the back of her throat. "If you love someone else, you can be with her—" Before she could finish, Xavier interrupted her. "You're mad." ... After Xavier left, Yvette sat on the balcony alone, staring out into the cold rain. The sound of the raindrops drifted in and out of clarity. She took off her hearing aids, letting the world around her fall into silence. A month ago, her doctor had told her, "Ms. Snyder, there's been a pathological change in your auditory nerves and some of your cranial nerves, causing your hearing to worsen. If this goes on, you may lose your hearing completely." Not used to a silent world, Yvette went to the living room and turned on the television. She turned up the volume to the max, which allowed her to hear some sound. By coincidence, the television was showing an interview with Daphne Reyes, an internationally renowned singer known for her love songs. Yvette's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the remote control. Daphne was Xavier's first love. It had been a long time since Yvette had seen her, but Daphne was still as pretty as ever. She was confident and relaxed in front of the cameras, unlike the shy and frightened young woman who had begged the Snyders for sponsorship in the past. When the interviewer asked Daphne why she had returned to her home country, her answer was bold. "I came home to get my first love back." The remote control slipped out of Yvette's hands. Her heart also fell to her stomach. Flustered, Yvette turned off the television and went to the table to clean up the uneaten breakfast. When she got to the kitchen, she found that Xavier had forgotten to take his phone. She picked it up and saw the unread messages on the lock screen. "Xav, you must have been unhappy over the past few years, right?" "I know you don't love her. How about we meet up tonight? I've missed you." Yvette stared blankly at the messages until the screen went dark again. Then, she called a cab to Xavier's office. On the way, she stared out of the window. The rain fell incessantly. It felt like it would never stop. Xavier never liked it when Yvette visited him at his office, so whenever she was there, she would take the service elevator from the loading bay. When Xavier's assistant, Mark Xyrax, saw her, he just greeted her impassively, "Ms. Snyder." No one around Xavier considered Yvette his wife. She was nothing but a smear on his reputation. When Xavier saw Yvette bringing him his phone, he frowned. She was always like this. No matter what he forgot, be it his lunch, his documents, a shirt, or even an umbrella, she would bring them to him. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to deliver my things to me yourself." Yvette froze. "Sorry, I forgot." Since when had her memory been so bad? Maybe she had panicked after seeing Daphne's message and became afraid that Xavier would disappear from her life suddenly. Before she left, she looked back at Xavier. Unable to help herself, she blurted out, "Xav, do you still like Daphne?" Xavier thought that Yvette had been behaving rather strangely lately. She kept forgetting things and asking weird questions. How could a person like her be his wife? Impatiently, he replied, "If you have so much free time, go find yourself something to do." Yvette had tried getting a job before, but Xavier's mother, Shannon Guetta, had reprimanded her without holding back. "Do you want the whole world to know that Xav married a disabled woman with hearing issues?" Therefore, Yvette had given up on finding a job and focused on her fruitless life as "Mrs. Lane" at Dewberry Estate. … At home, she sat alone until nightfall. She couldn't sleep. Just then, the phone on her bedside table rang loudly. It was a call from an unfamiliar number. Yvette picked up the call. A familiar voice, yet one she dreaded, sounded from the other end. "Is this Yvvy? Xav is drunk. Can you come pick him up?" When Yvette arrived at Sternhow Club, she heard loud coaxing and jeering from the wealthy heirs inside the private room. "Daph, didn't you say you came back to get our dear Mr. Lane back into your arms? This is your chance now. Go on, tell him how you feel!" Daphne was a pretty woman who was popular wherever she went. She was also Xavier's first love, so the rich young men of the upper crust were happy to push the two together. Daphne wasn't shy at all. She turned to Xavier and said without any reservations, "I like you, Xav. Please be with me again." That was what Yvette heard when she arrived at the door of the private room. Inside, the other people were urging Xavier to answer Daphne. His best friend, Tristan Shaw, was the most vocal among them. "Xav, you've been waiting for Daphne for three years. She's back now. So, go on, answer her!" Yvette stood frozen outside the door. Her heart was pounding. Just then, one of the men pulled the door open. "Ms. Snyder?" Chapter 2 Everyone in the private room looked over at the door. For a moment, the room was eerily silent. Yvette immediately caught sight of Xavier in the middle of the room. His eyes were clear and bright. He was clearly not drunk. She knew that she had been tricked by Daphne. When Xavier saw Yvette, his pupils constricted. Everyone else in the room looked awkward, including Tristan, who had been the most vocal in getting Xavier to accept Daphne's confession earlier. Yvette shouldn't have gone there. Daphne was the first to break the silence. "Please don't get the wrong idea, Yvvy. Tristan was joking. Xavier and I are just friends." Before Yvette could answer, Xavier stood up impatiently. "There's no need to explain it to her." Then, he stalked over to Yvette. "What are you doing here?" "I thought you were drunk, so I came to take you home," Yvette answered truthfully. Xavier scoffed. "You really didn't retain anything I told you, did you?" Lowering his voice, he said softly so that only she could hear him, "Are you here to remind everyone that I was tricked into marrying you three years ago? Did you think they forgot?" Yvette was stunned. Xavier gave her a cold look. "Stop seeking attention. You're only making me hate you more." With that, he turned away, leaving Yvette standing alone. Yvette stared after his retreating figure, unable to snap out of her shock. None of the other scions in the room took pity on her when they saw Xavier ignoring her. Tristan even had no qualms in telling Daphne, who was feigning distress, "You're too kind, Daphne. You didn't need to explain anything. "If Yvette hadn't scammed Xav, he would've married you in the first place. You wouldn't have needed to suffer abroad as well." Despite the constant ringing in her ears, Yvette could still hear every word clearly. She knew better than anyone that even if Xavier hadn't married her, he wouldn't have married Daphne. Daphne was a nobody with no background, after all. Daphne was well aware of this as well. That was why she had chosen to break up with Xavier and leave the country. How had everything turned out to be Yvette's fault? When Yvette left Sternhow Club with her umbrella, she felt as if she had been enveloped by darkness. Just then, a lithe figure appeared beside her. It was Daphne. She was decked out in fine clothes, complete with high heels. She looked smug. "It's a cold night, isn't it? So, how does it feel to get scoffed at by Xavier after you came all the way here at this time to get him?" Yvette didn't answer her, but Daphne didn't mind her silence. She just continued speaking. "I do pity you, you know. You've never experienced true love before, have you? "Do you know that when I was with Xav, he would cook for me himself? When I was sick, he would drop everything and stay with me. "Has Xav ever told you he loves you? He used to say that to me all the time…" Yvette listened to Daphne's rambling quietly, her mind going over the past three years she had been married to Xavier. He had never so much as stepped into the kitchen during that time. When she had gotten sick, he had never comforted her. He had never told her he loved her either. … That night, Yvette couldn't fall asleep. She had only just found out that the man she had loved for the past 12 years had once loved another with all his heart, in the spectacular way that only young people could. At that moment, she realized that it was time for her to give him up. She had a sleepless night. The next morning, Xavier returned home. The glare he gave her was cold. "How attached are you to the Lane family's money, to me, your money-making robot?" he demanded. Yvette was stunned. She didn't know what had gotten into him so early in the morning. Instinctively, she said, "I never wanted your money." She had only ever wanted Xavier. Xavier laughed in disdain. "Then, why did your mother come to my office and beg me to give you a child?" Yvette was stunned. She stared into Xavier's eyes. It was only then that she realized that he wasn't angry about what had happened last night. Xavier had no desire to waste his breath on her. "If you want to continue staying with me and keep your family afloat, tell your mother to behave herself!" ... In the end, Yvette didn't need to look for Yara. Yara found Yvette instead. She was no longer cold and distant; she gripped Yvette's hands and said gently, "Yvvy, you should ask Xavier to give you a child. He doesn't have to do it biologically. He could do it through scientific measures." Scientific measures. Yvette stared at Yara in shock as the latter continued, "Daphne told me that Xavier hasn't slept with you in the past three years." That was the last straw for Yvette. She didn't know why Xavier would tell Daphne about that. Maybe he really loved Daphne a lot. With that thought, she suddenly felt relieved. "Just let it go, Mom." Yara paused. She frowned. "What?" "I'm tired. I want to get a divorce—" Before she could finish, Yara slapped her hard across the face. The kind, motherly facade was gone in an instant. She jabbed a finger at Yvette and gritted out, "You have no right to ask for a divorce! "Without the Lane family, what do you think you're going to do? Who's going to remarry a disabled divorcee like you?" Yvette felt her body go numb. Yara had never liked Yvette, even when the latter had been a child. Yara had been a famous dancer. The fact that she had given birth to a daughter with hearing issues was one of her biggest regrets. Therefore, she had sent Yvette away to be taken care of by a nanny. She had only allowed Yvette to return home when the latter started school. People used to tell Yvette that every mother loved their child. So, she had done everything she could to excel at everything in hopes of making Yara happy. Despite her hearing issues, she had been at the top of her class in dance, music, and art classes. But no matter how hard she tried, Yara still didn't consider her a good daughter. In Yara's words, Yvette wasn't "complete". Not only physically, but also in love and familial relationships. After Yara left, Yvette used some makeup to cover up the red print on her face. Then, she packed her bags quietly. Even after three years of married life, all her personal belongings fit into a single suitcase. After she finished packing up, she gathered her courage and sent Xavier a message. "Are you free tonight? I need to talk to you." Xavier didn't reply to her. Yvette's eyes darkened. She knew that he didn't want to reply to her messages. All she could do was wait for him to come home in the morning. She had thought that he wouldn't come home that night, but he got back at midnight. Yvette wasn't asleep at the time. She went up to him and took his coat and bag from him with familiarity in her actions. It was as if they were a normal married couple. Xavier's cold voice broke the peace. "Don't send me inane texts again." As Yvette held Xavier's coat, her hand trembled slightly. "I won't do it again," she mumbled. Xavier didn't notice anything wrong with her tone. He went straight to his study. Generally, if he came home, he would stay holed up in his study. He probably thought that someone who was hard of hearing would live in a silent world. Either that, or he simply didn't care about Yvette. That would explain why he got straight to discussing his acquisition of Snyder Group in his study as if nothing was wrong. When Yvette brought him some soup, she heard Xavier animatedly discussing work with his employees. He was talking about the acquisition of Snyder Group, her father, James Snyder's company. She didn't know how to feel about that. She knew that her brother, Terrence Synder, was useless at running a business, so it was only a matter of time before Snyder Group fell. However, she had never thought that her own husband would be the first to cause Snyder Group's downfall. "Xav," she interrupted. Xavier was slightly startled. Out of guilt, or maybe some other emotion, he quickly hung up the phone and closed his laptop. Feigning ignorance, Yvette walked into the study and placed the bowl in front of him. "Have some soup, then get to bed soon. Your health is more important than work." For some reason, Xavier felt himself relax when he heard her soft voice. She probably hadn't heard anything. Feeling conflicted, he stopped Yvette before she could leave. "You said you wanted to talk to me. What is it?" Hearing this, Yvette turned back to look at him. Softly, she said, "I just wanted to ask if you're free in the morning so we can go and file for divorce." Chapter 3 Yvette's voice was calm and impassive, as though divorce were a menial matter to her. Xavier's pupils contracted. "What did you just say?" Over the last three years, no matter what he had done, Yvette had never brought up divorce. In truth, Xavier knew that Yvette loved him. Her eyes, which were usually dull and empty, were clear and bright now. "I'm sorry for being a burden over the last few years, Mr. Lane. We should get divorced." Xavier clenched his fists unconsciously. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? Snyder Group was already failing; it won't matter whether I buy it or someone else does. What are you trying to do by bringing up divorce? "Is it because you want money? Or a child? Or do you want me to leave Snyder Group alone?" he asked coldly. "Don't forget that I don't love you. Your threats won't work on me!" At that moment, he seemed like a stranger to Yvette. A lump formed in her throat as her ears began throbbing. Even though she was wearing her hearing aids, she could barely hear what Xavier was saying. She could only answer his last question. "I don't want anything." Afraid that he would notice something wrong with her, Yvette left the study in a hurry. As he watched her leave, Xavier felt frustrated for some reason. He had never felt like this before. Not one to hold in his emotions, he flipped the table over. The bowl of soup that Yvette had brought him spilled all over the ground. ... Back in her own room, Yvette forced herself to swallow a handful of pills. She reached up to touch her ear. As she retracted her fingers, she saw crimson blood on them. Thanks to the medicine, her hearing recovered a little by the time it was dawn. Yvette stared blankly at the soft rays of sunlight streaming from the window. "The rain has stopped," she said quietly to herself. Xavier didn't leave the manor that day. He was in the living room bright and early, settled on the couch, waiting for Yvette to apologize and express her regret to him. This wasn't the first time Yvette had lost her temper with him. However, after every tantrum, she would apologize to him before long. Xavier figured that it would be the same this time around. Soon, he saw Yvette coming out of her room, all freshened up. She wore her usual dark-colored clothes. She dragged a suitcase with one hand while holding a piece of paper in the other. She handed the paper to him. It was a divorce agreement. "Let me know when you have time, Xav." With that, she left the manor, pulling her suitcase behind her. It was bright and sunny outside. Yvette felt as if she had gotten a new chance at life. Meanwhile, Xavier sat frozen on the couch, still clutching the divorce agreement in his hand. It took him a long time to come back to his senses. It was Saturday. Usually, around this time of the year, Xavier would take Yvette back to his hometown to pay respects to his ancestors. During this time, they would have to endure strange looks from his extended family. However, he was alone that day, which made him extraordinarily happy. At Lane Mansion, Shannon and the rest of the Lanes were surprised to see him alone. In the past, Yvette had always been the first one to turn up every year and the last to leave since she had been trying to please everyone. Why wasn't she there today? Shanon frowned and asked Xavier, "Where's Yvette, Xav?" Xavier's expression turned cold. "She wanted a divorce and left me." Everyone fell silent in disbelief when he said that. Shannon was shocked. She knew that Yvette probably loved Xavier more than anything in the world, only surpassed by his own parents. Seven years ago, Yvette had even protected Xavier with her own body when someone had attempted to stab him. Four years ago, not long after the two had gotten engaged, something had happened to Xavier while he had been on a business trip in Dibay. Everyone had been convinced that he was dead, but Yvette had refused to believe that. She had dropped everything and gone to the foreign city just to look for him. Then, after they had gotten married, Yvette had taken care of almost everything in his life with meticulous precision, including being polite to everyone around him, even his secretaries. She had always been afraid of offending them. Yvette clearly couldn't live without Xavier. So, why had she suggested getting a divorce? Shannon had no idea, but she was glad that Yvette had finally decided to let Xavier go. "She's not worthy to be your wife anyway. It's a good thing that you're divorcing her. She doesn't deserve you," she said The others immediately chimed in. "Yeah, you're young and handsome, Xav. You're in your best years now. Yvette's been dragging you down all this time!" Instantly, the gathering turned into a slander fest. They spoke of Yvette as if she were an unforgivable criminal. Xavier should have felt happy that they were defending him, but for some reason, he found their words too sharp and crass. He left Lane Mansion earlier than usual and made his way back to Dewberry Estate. The sky was just starting to darken when he arrived home. He opened the door and entered the manor. When he saw nothing but darkness, he remembered, with a start, that Yvette had left. He changed into his house slippers and tossed his coat into the washer. For some reason, he felt unusually exhausted today. He went to the wine cellar to get a bottle of wine so that he could celebrate Yvette's leaving. However, when he got to the wine cellar and saw the locked door, he realized too late that he didn't have the key. He didn't like strangers in his house, so there were no maids or servants at Dewberry Estate. Ever since he had married Yvette, she had been the one taking care of the household affairs. He could only go back to his room. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his messages only to find work-related texts. Yvette hadn't called or texted him to apologize at all. Tossing his phone aside, he got up and headed over to the kitchen. When he opened the door of the fridge, he was stunned. Apart from food, there were also a lot of supplements. He picked one of the bags up and read the instructions on it. "Take five times a day for incapable of conceived." He took a whiff of the supplement. It smelled disgusting. He recalled that Yvette always smelled strange. So, this was why. He scoffed silently. They had never slept, so no matter how much medicine she took, she would never have gotten conceived. ... Meanwhile, over in a dark and dinky hotel, Yvette opened her eyes blearily. Her head was pounding. The world was silent. She knew, then, that her condition had worsened again. Before this, she had still been able to hear some sounds, even without her hearing aids. She pushed herself up and felt around on the bedside table until she found her medicine. She popped the pills in her mouth, tasting their bitterness. The day before, she had left Dewberry Estate, which had been her home for the past three years. At first, she had gone to her parents' house, Snyder Residence. However, at the door, she had overheard Yara and Terrence discussing how they would marry her off to an old man if the Lanes kicked her out. Yvette had blanked upon hearing that. It was then that she finally realized that she had no place to call home anymore. Even though she hadn't eaten anything in two days, she still didn't feel hungry. However, it was too quiet. The silence scared her. It had been raining more frequently in Tirion this year than it had in previous years. Yvette stared out at the passing pedestrians. Most of them were paired up or in groups. She was the only one alone. She bought a bus ticket heading out of the city. She decided to go to her nanny's house in the countryside. Viola Xenos, her nanny, had taken care of her when she was a child. It was already 9:00 pm when Yvette got there. When Viola saw Yvette, she looked pleasantly surprised. Yvette teared up when she saw Viola's warm smile. She reached out to her and hugged her. "Viola." Due to health issues, Viola had never married and didn't have children of her own. Yvette was closer to her than she was to her own mother. That night, Yvette cuddled up in Viola's embrace, just like she had when she was a child. Viola wrapped her arms around Yvette, only to realize that the latter was very thin. She pressed a hand on the Yvette's bony back, trembling uncontrollably. Forcing herself to calm down, she asked cautiously, "Has Xavier been treating you well, Yvvy?" Yvette felt a sharp pain in her throat when she heard Xavier's name. She wanted to lie to Viola and tell her that Xavier had treated her well, but she knew that Viola wasn't silly. Since she had already made up her mind to leave him, there was no need to lie to herself or to the people who loved her any longer. "The person he loves has returned. I've decided to let him go and divorce him." Viola was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears. Yvette had told her multiple times before that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Xavier. Not knowing what else to say, she comforted Yvette by telling her that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. There was bound to be one who would love her. Yvette just nodded silently. The buzzing in her ears drowned out Viola's comforting voice. That night, she managed to get a good night's sleep, which was rare. However, when she woke up, she was greeted with the alarming sight of blood staining the spot where her head had laid on the pillow. Yvette touched her right ear. Her fingers felt sticky. She looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. Chapter 4 Even Yvette's hearing aids were stained red. Her pupils contracted, and she quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe her ear. Then, she stripped the bedsheets and washed them. She was afraid that Viola would worry about her if she found out that her illness was worsening. So, she cleaned up the mess and found an excuse to bid goodbye to Viola. Before she left, she placed a part of her savings on the bedside table without telling Viola. Viola walked Yvette to the bus stop and waved goodbye reluctantly. … After Yvette left, Viola couldn't stop thinking about how thin the former was. Unable to just sit by, she called Lane Group. When the secretary heard that Viola was Yvette's nanny and wanted to speak to Xavier, she transferred the call to Xavier's line. It was the third day after Yvette had left Xavier. It was also the first time in three days that he had received a call about her. Sitting behind his desk, he felt exceptionally pleased. Just as he had expected, Yvette wouldn't be able to last more than three days without him—or so he thought. Viola's voice came through the other line, sounding weighed with age. "Mr. Lane, I am Yvvy's nanny. I've been taking care of her since she was a baby. "Please, I beg you, treat her well. Don't hurt her more than you already have. She's not as strong as she seems on the surface. "When she was born, Mrs. Snyder left her in my care because she didn't like that Yvvy is hard of hearing. Yvvy only returned home when she had to start going to school. "The Snyders have never treated her as one of their own. Apart from Mr. Snyder, everyone else treated her like she was a maid. "You and Mr. Snyder are the most important people she has in this world. I'm begging you, please. Please be kind to her." Xavier's mood darkened when he heard what Viola said. "Did she tell you to give me this sob story because she didn't want to face me herself?" he asked coldly. "Why should I care about her life? If you ask me, she deserved everything she got!" That said, he hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. Viola had heard Yvette gushing about how nice Xavier was to her. So, it was only then that she realized the truth—Xavier wasn't a good man at all. He wasn't a good husband to Yvette. ... Yvette sat on the bus, heading home. Just then, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Xavier. "You said you wanted to get divorced, right? I'll see you at 10:00 am tomorrow." Yvette stared at the text blankly for a while before replying, "Okay." Just one word. It infuriated Xavier and completely ruined his mood. Unable to work anymore, he called up his friends and invited them out for drinks. Daphne was also at the club when he arrived. "I'm not going home until I'm drunk!" she declared. Tristan sat down beside Xavier. He couldn't help asking curiously, "How's Deaf Yvvy?" Xavier raised an eyebrow at him. "There's no need to talk about her ever again. We're filing for divorce tomorrow." Tristan was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears. "Really?" Beside them, Daphne brightened. She poured out a shot for him. "Congrats on getting back your freedom, Xav!" Xavier drank a lot that night. Daphne offered to send him home, but he rejected her suggestion. "No need. It's not appropriate." If he and Yvette were going to get divorced tomorrow, she might come home that night. Daphne wasn't happy about the rejection. "Why? You're divorcing her anyway. Why wouldn't it be appropriate? Are you still scared that she might find out about our relationship?" Their relationship? Xavier narrowed his eyes. "You're overthinking this." He got into his own car. Out of consideration, he also called a cab to send Daphne home. On the drive home, he kept unlocking his phone to check if Yvette had sent him any messages. She hadn't. When he reached Dewberry Estate, it was dark. With a stormy expression, Xavier opened the door and turned on the light. Yvette was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't come home. The manor was left exactly the way it had been when she had left. Still feeling the effects of the wine, Xavier threw himself heavily onto the couch and soon fell asleep. In his nightmares, Yvette was covered in blood, but there was a smile on her face. "I don't love you anymore, Xav," she said. When Xavier jolted awake, the sky outside had just brightened up. He rubbed his forehead and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up. Then, he changed into a smart suit and made his way to the courthouse. At the entrance of the courthouse, he spotted Yvette standing under a tree not far off. As usual, she was dressed in dark-colored clothes. From the distance, she looked incredibly frail and thin as she stood amid the drizzle. It was as if a single gust of wind could knock her over. Xavier could still remember how young and lively she had been when they had first gotten married. She hadn't been as thin and gloomy back then. Holding an umbrella, he walked toward Yvette. It took her a few moments to notice him. Xiaver hadn't changed much over the last three years. He was as handsome and as confident as ever, with the added hint of matureness that came with age. Yvette was a little dazed. The last three years felt like a blink in time to her, yet she also seemed to have exhausted a whole lifetime. Xavier stalked over to Yvette and gazed at her coldly. He was waiting for her to apologize to him. She had been sulking enough. It was time to put an end to this. However, Yvette just said, "I'm sorry to pull you away from your work. Let's go in." Xavier stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Don't regret this." With that, he turned and headed into the courthouse. Yvette stared after him sadly. Would she regret this? She didn't know either. In the courthouse, the judge asked them if they were sure about going through with the divorce. Yvette's answer was firm. "Yes." Her determined expression frustrated Xavier. After filing for divorce, they still had to return to the courthouse in a month. If they didn't show up, then the divorce would be considered null. As they left the courthouse, Yvette looked at Xavier, her expression unusually calm. "I'll see you next month. Take care." With that, she stepped out into the rain, hailed a cab, and left. Xavier was left standing on the spot. He didn't know how to feel as he watched her car leave. Relieved, probably. Relieved that he wouldn't need to put up with her any longer or endure others' ridicule for having a disabled wife. ... In the cab, Yvette leaned against the window and stared blankly at the rain droplets on the glass. In the rearview mirror, the driver suddenly saw blood dripping from her ear. He was shocked by the sight. "Miss? Miss!" Yvette didn't answer him. The driver hastily stopped the car. Yvette was confused. They weren't at her destination yet. Why had they stopped? She looked over at the driver and saw him mouthing silently. She realized that she had gone deaf again. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. What are you saying?" In the end, the driver had to type out what he wanted to say on his phone so that he could tell her about her bleeding ear. Yvette reached out belatedly and felt the warm sensation in her ear. She was used to it now. "It's alright. This happens all the time. I'm fine." She was hard of hearing, but her ears hadn't bled like this before. Two years ago, at a gathering, Tristan had pushed her into a swimming pool. Yvette didn't know how to swim, so she had almost drowned. At the same time, her eardrums had also expanded due to the pressure. She had been sent to the hospital, but the damage had been done. At the time, she had been told that everything was fine. Why was this happening again? The cab driver was still worried, so he dropped her off at the hospital she told him. After thanking him, Yvette went into the hospital on her own. This time, she saw her usual doctor, Tom Jensen. "Dr. Jensen, my memory has been rather bad lately. I kept forgetting what I'm doing," she said. When she had woken up at the hotel that morning, it had taken her a long time to remember that she had to file for divorce with Xavier. Tom looked at her latest report worriedly. "Ms. Snyder, I think you should consider getting tested for other things. Specifically, mental health issues." Mental health… Following Tom's recommendation, Yvette went and got a psychiatric diagnosis. She was diagnosed with depression. It turned out that patients with severe depression often experienced memory loss. Before heading back to the hotel, Yvette stopped and bought a notebook and a pen. She wrote down everything that had happened lately. She placed the notebook right beside her bed so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning. News of her and Xavier's divorce spread quickly. That night, Yara called her multiple times, but she didn't hear anything. … When she woke up the next morning, she saw a barrage of texts from Yara. "Where are you?" "Who do you think you are? Even if you're getting a divorce, Xavier should have been the one to ask for it!" "You're such a jinx! Back when you got married, your dad got into a car crash and died. What's going to happen now that you're getting divorced? Do you want Snyder Group to go bankrupt? Is that it?" Yvette stared at the messages. She was used to the verbal bully by now. She typed out a reply. "Mom, it's time that we live by our own merits. We shouldn't depend on others so much." Yara's response was swift. "You're such an ingrate! I shouldn't have given birth to you in the first place!" Yvette didn't bother replying to that. She placed her phone aside. She just had to wait a month. Once the divorce was finalized, she would be able to leave Tirion and start a new life. … Yvette's health worsened over the next few days. She often found herself completely deaf. Sometimes, it took a very long time for her hearing to go back to normal. Her memory was deteriorating too. On the bright side, even though her hearing loss was incurable, at least she could do something about the depression. She tried everything she could to keep herself happy. She busied herself by registering as a volunteer online. She spent time taking care of abandoned old people and orphans. Helping them made her feel like she had a reason to continue living. A few days later, Yvette woke up in the morning and checked her notebook as usual. Then, she got ready to head out to the orphanage. When she picked up her phone, she saw several unread messages. There were messages from Terrance and Yara, as well as Daphne. She opened the texts one by one. Yara: "As you wished, Snyder Group is no more." Terrence: "Keep hiding. You're the most cowardly and cruel person I've ever seen." Daphne: "My condolences, Yvette. Actually, I think Snyder Group would thrive better under Xav." Daphne: "Since your family has helped me so much in the past, do let me know if you need anything. I'll help you if I can." Yvette had no idea what was happening. She closed the messaging app. Almost immediately, she got a notification about the latest news. Chapter 5 Yvette watched the news and saw the press conference held by Lane Group. It was an announcement that Xavier had successfully acquired Snyder Group. James' company no longer existed in the world. … Things on Xavier's end had been extra pleasant lately. He had acquired Snyder Group and gotten his revenge. "The Snyder family finally got what they deserved for tricking you into that marriage three years ago." Tristan chuckled. Yet, he changed the topic in the next instant. He asked Xavier, "Xav, has Deaf Yvvy approached you during the past few days?" Xavier froze halfway through signing a document. He didn't know why, but people around him kept mentioning Yvette these days. "No," he replied coldly. That shocked Tristan. After all, how could Yvette not do anything when something this massive had happened to her family? With that in mind, he spoke again. "Could it be that she's finally come around? I heard her family has been looking everywhere for her. Nobody knows where she's gone—" He kept blabbering on. Xavier frowned, feeling utterly annoyed. "Get out!" Tristan jolted. That was when he realized that Xavier was furious. Not daring to say another word, Tristan bolted out of the CEO's office. Once outside, he took his phone and called his assistant, Avery Fitzpatrick. "Have you found Yvette?" "Yes, she's in a small hotel in Hexim Pass," answered Avery. Tristan had Avery send him the location before he drove there. He refused to let Yvette off the hook so easily. So what if she was willing to divorce Xavier now? She had already prevented Xavier and Daphne from being together for over three years! Besides, Daphne had saved Tristan's life once, so he owed her. It rained outside. Yvette finished her volunteer work and picked up her medication from the hospital. Then, she held an umbrella while walking back to the hotel. There were very few people on the road. Tristan drove his car but kept his eyes on Yvette's slim back. He deliberately sped up as he drove past her, sending a puddle of rainwater splashing onto her. Yvette shot him a blank stare. Tristan happened to meet her emotionless gaze through his rearview mirror. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably nervous. Yvette recognized Tristan's luxurious, dark gray Bugatti. Yet, she retracted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. Even so, Tristan refused to stop there. He deliberately slowed his car and followed her. "Hey, Deaf Yvvy. So, you have a temper now, huh? "You're not even going to greet me now? Didn't you used to love greeting me? Didn't you enjoy tickling my fancy?" Yvette remained stoic while the former mocked her. She used to do everything to win over those around Xavier, including his friends. It was all because she liked him. She had figured that Xavier's family and friends would one day accept her. Alas, it seemed she had been too naïve. At the previous gathering, Tristan had declared that he was Daphne's friend. He couldn't care less about maintaining his gentlemanly, upper-class image when siding with Daphne. He had insulted Yvette and called her shameless. In the end, he had also thrown her into the pool, leaving her to die. Since then, Yvette had steered clear of him. Upon receiving no reaction or response from Yvette, Tristan stopped the car, opened the door, and strolled toward her. He grabbed her arm and asked, "What stunts are you planning to pull this time?" Yvette's arm hurt, so she looked up at him. "I don't know what you're saying." She wanted to pry his hand off her arm, but he flung her aside. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!" Tristan bellowed. Yvette stumbled backward before falling to the ground with a loud thud. Tristan froze on the spot in slight disbelief. It baffled him to see Yvette resorting to such tricks. He had only pushed her with a slight force, so how could she fall like that? Seeing people looking their way, he nervously got back into his car. Still, he gave her a warning before driving away. "Don't mess with Daph just because you're a disabled person, Yvette! "She's different from you. It's taken her a lot of effort to get to where she is now, so you'd better not disrupt her and Xav's relationship again!" After driving away, he even told the Snyder family where Yvette was staying. Yvette's hands and knees were scraped when she fell. It hurt so much that she couldn't stand for a long time. Deep down, she didn't understand why Tristan was so blind to what was right and wrong. She recalled risking her life to rescue him from a car that had been about to explode four years ago. His face had been covered in blood, and his eyes hadn't been visible. However, he had spoken in the warmest voice. He had said, "Thank you. I promise I'll repay you someday." Yvette couldn't help but bitterly wonder if this was his way of repaying her. … Once Yvette returned to the hotel, she took a shower and applied medication to her scraped skin. Then, she lay down in a daze. The fall hardened her determination to leave Xavier for good. … The sun was shining brightly outside when Yvette woke up. She got up and headed to the living area, only to see Yara sitting on the couch, wearing a formal dress. Yara didn't seem to care one bit that Yvette had just woken up. She picked the document off the coffee table and handed it to the latter. "Take a good look at this. It's the backup plan I've selected for you." Yvette accepted the document but saw the title "prenuptial agreement" on the cover. She flipped through the pages while reading the contents aloud. "Ms. Yvette Snyder will marry Mr. Liam Lorimer. As his wife, she'll devote herself to him and look after him until the end of his life. Liam will look after Yvette's family, which includes maintaining their quality of life. He'll also provide 300 million as funds for the Snyder family." Following that, the document stated Liam's details. He was an entrepreneur from the older generation in Tirion. He was 78 years old that year. Yvette's mind tensed. At that moment, Yara spoke up again. "Mr. Lorimer has expressed that he doesn't mind that you were married before. "He'll help revive our family's reputation from the ashes, as long as you marry him. Come on, dearest. You wouldn't let me and Terrence down, right?" Yvette's face paled even more. "I can't agree to what you're asking of me." Yara had never imagined that Yvette would reject her so candidly. She blew up in a fit of rage at once. "What right do you have to refuse? I gave you life!" Hearing that, Yvette met Yara's gaze. "How about I return my life to you? Would that mean I no longer owe you?" "What did you say?" Yara shrilled. Yvette's pale lips moved as she said, "If I returned my life to you, would it mean you'd no longer be my mother? And I'll no longer be indebted to you for giving birth to me?" Yara sneered, not believing Yvette would dare do such a thing. "Okay, then. I won't force you to marry Mr. Lorimer if you give your life back to me. But the question is, do you have the guts to do it?" "Give me a month." Yvette seemed determined. In Yara's eyes, Yvette seemed like a crazed person. She warned, "You'd best not threaten me by only saying you'll end your life. We're not that close, so I don't care if you die. However, you must sign this document if you're too afraid to end your life." … Yvette had suppressed all her emotions to the brim and needed to vent somewhere. So, she went to a bar. She sat in a corner, drinking and watching the crowd happily dance in a daze. That was when a dashing man with striking eyes noticed Yvette, who was all alone. He approached and asked, "Yvette?" Yvette stared at the man but didn't recognize him. Still dazed, she asked, "Do you know how one can achieve happiness?" The man was confused. "What did you say?" Yvette continued drinking as she spoke. "The doctor says I'm ill and should try to be happier, but I can't make myself feel happy…" That sparked discomfort in the man, Claude Lander. He wondered if Yvette had forgotten about him. Also, he was confused by what she said—something about being ill and needing to be happier. "You shouldn't be in a place like this if you want to be happy. Why don't I drive you home?" Claude spoke in a gentle tone. A smile curved across Yvette's face as she looked at him. "You're a good person." Complex emotions stirred in Claude when he saw her bitter smile. He wondered what she had been through these past few years. Why did she seem so sorrowful? Meanwhile, Xavier was also at the bar. After settling the divorce papers, he had let himself loose every night. On top of that, he hadn't returned to Dewberry Estate in a long time. It was getting late. When the crowd was about to leave, Daphne noticed a familiar figure in a corner of the bar. She exclaimed, "Isn't that Yvvy?" Xavier glanced in the direction Daphne was staring in and saw a man merrily chatting with Yvette. His expression soured at once. He was disappointed in Yvette for getting drunk at a bar and chatting up another man. He felt like he had thought too highly of her before. "Should we go and check up on her, Xav?" asked Daphne. "No," was all Xavier said before speedily leaving. On the other hand, Yvette declined Claude's offer. "There's no need to trouble yourself. I can go home on my own." Claude was still worried about Yvette, so he ran after her when he noticed her leaving the bar. "Do you really not remember me?" Yvette gazed at him but couldn't recall who he was. "It's Chubbs. Have you forgotten?" Claude reminded her. Only then did Yvette remember her friend, Chubbs, whom she met when she had been living with Viola in the countryside. Back then, Claude had been chubbier and nowhere near Yvette's height. Yet, his six-foot-two-inch frame now towered over her. He had even grown to have handsome features. "I remember now! You've changed so much. I didn't even recognize you!" said Yvette. Meeting an old friend away from home was a pleasant thing. But only a slight smile curved on Yvette's face. That upset Claude. "Come on. I'll drive you home," Claude stated. When he dropped her off, he was shocked to learn she lived in a run-down hotel. Yvette shifted in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's not a glamorous place. Please don't tell Viola I'm living in such a place. I don't want her to worry." Claude nodded. Since it was getting late, it was unwise for him to stay longer. So, he left after telling Yvette he would visit her the next day. He didn't notice the matte black car lingering in a dark area beneath the hotel as he walked out. Now that Claude had left, Yvette felt dizzy and had an upset stomach from drinking too much. That was when someone knocked hard on the door. Yvette had just opened the door when Xavier grabbed her wrist. He exerted so much strength on her slender wrist that it felt close to snapping in half. "You've made me look at you in a new light, Yvette!" Xavier snarled while shutting and locking the door. He then forcefully led her to the couch. He sneered with words as sharp and lethal as a blade, "So, you've already settled on which family you'll marry into next, huh? I knew you wouldn't be so willing to let me go for no reason!" Yvette didn't know why he had come over, nor did she know how he had seen Claude. She was only briefly dazed. Once she snapped out of it, she shot a furious look at Xavier and didn't bother explaining herself to him. The rims of her eyes reddened. "You and I aren't that different from each other." The Snyder family had tricked Xavier into marrying Yvette. However, Xavier had treated her coldly for three years while remaining entangled with his first love. Neither Xavier nor Yvette was a better person than the other. Xavier had also drunk some wine, so he reeked of it. Eyes reddening, he pinched Yvette's chin and spoke with a dangerously low voice. "Who is he? When did you guys meet?" That was the first time Yvette had seen him behave like this. She suddenly chuckled. "Are you jealous?" Xavier's gaze grew tense as he scoffed. "You're unworthy of such a reaction." Yvette became choked up. That was when Xavier leaned in domineeringly and continued interrogating her. "Has he already touched you? Huh?" In her three years of marriage, Yvette had given up on her work and declined to meet her friends whenever they had occasionally invited her out. She had done so to obey the Lane family's rules. But now Xavier was suspicious of her. Relief washed over Yvette just then. She questioned him back, "What do you think?" That utterly angered Xavier, and his heated hands started travelling down her body. | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457023493_8130919900276575_3500800934228782898_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p40Zou8ympYQ7kNvgH0i6UO&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYD6jAWHHV5Nwd0eBGqk5aaVp9Vx5MClmoZSZEvdzx7xAw&oe=670A6BDB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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❤️😍What happens next👉 | Chapter 1 Yvette Snyder stood at the entrance of the hospital, her body frail, clutching a report in her thin hands. Three words on the report stood out: "No conception detected". "You've been married for three years. How are you not conceived?" Her mother, Yara Cadwell, demanded, jabbing a finger in Yvette's face disappointedly. Yara was dressed lavishly and wore high heels. "Why are you so useless? If you don't get conceived soon, the Lanes are going to kick you out of the family. What's going to happen to our family then?" Yvette looked at Yara blankly. She had a lot to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. In the end, all she could manage was, "I'm sorry." "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to give birth to Xavier's child. Do you understand me?" Yvette's throat felt tight; she didn't know how to answer Yara. In their three years of marriage, her husband, Xavier Lane, had never slept with her. How could she ever have his child? Yara stared at Yvette. The latter's weak demeanor was so unlike her own. Finally, she said coldly before leaving, "If you really can't give him a child, then find him a woman who can. At least he'll appreciate you for that." Yvette stared after Yara's retreating figure in disbelief. Had her own mother just told her to find another woman for her husband to sleep with? ... As Yvette made her journey home, she couldn't stop thinking about Yara's parting words. Suddenly, a loud ringing in her ear drowned out her thoughts. She knew that her condition had worsened. Just then, she received a message on her phone. It was from Xavier, and the content was the same as always. "I'm not coming home tonight." In the past three years they had been married, Xavier had never spent the night at home before. He had never so much as touched Yvette either. Yvette could remember their wedding night three years ago. He had told her, "Since your family is bold enough to trick me into marrying you, you'd better be prepared to spend the rest of your life in loneliness." Three years ago, the Snyder and Lane families had decided to form an alliance through marriage. Both families had agreed to mutually beneficial terms in the agreement. But when the day of the wedding came around, the Snyder family went back on their word and transferred all of their assets away, including the billions that Xavier had paid to marry Yvette. Yvette's eyes dulled at the memory. She replied to Xavier's text with her usual response: "Okay." Without her realizing it, the report she was holding got scrunched up in her hands. When she got home, Yvette tossed the report into the trash can. Every month, around this time, she would feel unusually lethargic. Yvette didn't prepare dinner for herself. She just leaned back on the couch, blearily drifting in and out of sleep. The rumbling in her ear persisted. That was another reason why Xavier hated her—she was hard of hearing, which, to the rich and powerful, was no better than being crippled. Xavier would never allow her to carry his child. … At 5 o'clock in the morning, the pendulum clock on the wall chimed dully. Xavier would be home in an hour. Yvette realized too late that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She got up hastily and went to the kitchen to prepare Xavier's breakfast. Xavier was a meticulous man who was strict about punctuality, not only with himself but also with the people around him. He arrived home at six o'clock sharp. Xavier was a tall and handsome man. Clad in a smart tailored suit, his demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet undoubtedly masculine. However, to Yvette, he was cold and distant. Xavier didn't even look at Yvette. He walked right past her to look at the food on the table and said with a scoff, "You do this every day. Are you a nanny or what?" Over the past three years, Yvette had been doing the same things over and over again. She wore the same dark clothes and replied to his messages with the same singular word. If it hadn't been for the business alliance and the Snyders' deceit, Xavier would never have married a woman like Yvette. At the word "nanny", the rumbling in Yvette's ears returned. She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat, and said bravely, "Xav, do you have someone that you like?" Her sudden question surprised Xavier. His eyes darkened. "What do you mean by that?" Yvette raised her head and stared at him, swallowing the bile rising in the back of her throat. "If you love someone else, you can be with her—" Before she could finish, Xavier interrupted her. "You're mad." ... After Xavier left, Yvette sat on the balcony alone, staring out into the cold rain. The sound of the raindrops drifted in and out of clarity. She took off her hearing aids, letting the world around her fall into silence. A month ago, her doctor had told her, "Ms. Snyder, there's been a pathological change in your auditory nerves and some of your cranial nerves, causing your hearing to worsen. If this goes on, you may lose your hearing completely." Not used to a silent world, Yvette went to the living room and turned on the television. She turned up the volume to the max, which allowed her to hear some sound. By coincidence, the television was showing an interview with Daphne Reyes, an internationally renowned singer known for her love songs. Yvette's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the remote control. Daphne was Xavier's first love. It had been a long time since Yvette had seen her, but Daphne was still as pretty as ever. She was confident and relaxed in front of the cameras, unlike the shy and frightened young woman who had begged the Snyders for sponsorship in the past. When the interviewer asked Daphne why she had returned to her home country, her answer was bold. "I came home to get my first love back." The remote control slipped out of Yvette's hands. Her heart also fell to her stomach. Flustered, Yvette turned off the television and went to the table to clean up the uneaten breakfast. When she got to the kitchen, she found that Xavier had forgotten to take his phone. She picked it up and saw the unread messages on the lock screen. "Xav, you must have been unhappy over the past few years, right?" "I know you don't love her. How about we meet up tonight? I've missed you." Yvette stared blankly at the messages until the screen went dark again. Then, she called a cab to Xavier's office. On the way, she stared out of the window. The rain fell incessantly. It felt like it would never stop. Xavier never liked it when Yvette visited him at his office, so whenever she was there, she would take the service elevator from the loading bay. When Xavier's assistant, Mark Xyrax, saw her, he just greeted her impassively, "Ms. Snyder." No one around Xavier considered Yvette his wife. She was nothing but a smear on his reputation. When Xavier saw Yvette bringing him his phone, he frowned. She was always like this. No matter what he forgot, be it his lunch, his documents, a shirt, or even an umbrella, she would bring them to him. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to deliver my things to me yourself." Yvette froze. "Sorry, I forgot." Since when had her memory been so bad? Maybe she had panicked after seeing Daphne's message and became afraid that Xavier would disappear from her life suddenly. Before she left, she looked back at Xavier. Unable to help herself, she blurted out, "Xav, do you still like Daphne?" Xavier thought that Yvette had been behaving rather strangely lately. She kept forgetting things and asking weird questions. How could a person like her be his wife? Impatiently, he replied, "If you have so much free time, go find yourself something to do." Yvette had tried getting a job before, but Xavier's mother, Shannon Guetta, had reprimanded her without holding back. "Do you want the whole world to know that Xav married a disabled woman with hearing issues?" Therefore, Yvette had given up on finding a job and focused on her fruitless life as "Mrs. Lane" at Dewberry Estate. … At home, she sat alone until nightfall. She couldn't sleep. Just then, the phone on her bedside table rang loudly. It was a call from an unfamiliar number. Yvette picked up the call. A familiar voice, yet one she dreaded, sounded from the other end. "Is this Yvvy? Xav is drunk. Can you come pick him up?" When Yvette arrived at Sternhow Club, she heard loud coaxing and jeering from the wealthy heirs inside the private room. "Daph, didn't you say you came back to get our dear Mr. Lane back into your arms? This is your chance now. Go on, tell him how you feel!" Daphne was a pretty woman who was popular wherever she went. She was also Xavier's first love, so the rich young men of the upper crust were happy to push the two together. Daphne wasn't shy at all. She turned to Xavier and said without any reservations, "I like you, Xav. Please be with me again." That was what Yvette heard when she arrived at the door of the private room. Inside, the other people were urging Xavier to answer Daphne. His best friend, Tristan Shaw, was the most vocal among them. "Xav, you've been waiting for Daphne for three years. She's back now. So, go on, answer her!" Yvette stood frozen outside the door. Her heart was pounding. Just then, one of the men pulled the door open. "Ms. Snyder?" Chapter 2 Everyone in the private room looked over at the door. For a moment, the room was eerily silent. Yvette immediately caught sight of Xavier in the middle of the room. His eyes were clear and bright. He was clearly not drunk. She knew that she had been tricked by Daphne. When Xavier saw Yvette, his pupils constricted. Everyone else in the room looked awkward, including Tristan, who had been the most vocal in getting Xavier to accept Daphne's confession earlier. Yvette shouldn't have gone there. Daphne was the first to break the silence. "Please don't get the wrong idea, Yvvy. Tristan was joking. Xavier and I are just friends." Before Yvette could answer, Xavier stood up impatiently. "There's no need to explain it to her." Then, he stalked over to Yvette. "What are you doing here?" "I thought you were drunk, so I came to take you home," Yvette answered truthfully. Xavier scoffed. "You really didn't retain anything I told you, did you?" Lowering his voice, he said softly so that only she could hear him, "Are you here to remind everyone that I was tricked into marrying you three years ago? Did you think they forgot?" Yvette was stunned. Xavier gave her a cold look. "Stop seeking attention. You're only making me hate you more." With that, he turned away, leaving Yvette standing alone. Yvette stared after his retreating figure, unable to snap out of her shock. None of the other scions in the room took pity on her when they saw Xavier ignoring her. Tristan even had no qualms in telling Daphne, who was feigning distress, "You're too kind, Daphne. You didn't need to explain anything. "If Yvette hadn't scammed Xav, he would've married you in the first place. You wouldn't have needed to suffer abroad as well." Despite the constant ringing in her ears, Yvette could still hear every word clearly. She knew better than anyone that even if Xavier hadn't married her, he wouldn't have married Daphne. Daphne was a nobody with no background, after all. Daphne was well aware of this as well. That was why she had chosen to break up with Xavier and leave the country. How had everything turned out to be Yvette's fault? When Yvette left Sternhow Club with her umbrella, she felt as if she had been enveloped by darkness. Just then, a lithe figure appeared beside her. It was Daphne. She was decked out in fine clothes, complete with high heels. She looked smug. "It's a cold night, isn't it? So, how does it feel to get scoffed at by Xavier after you came all the way here at this time to get him?" Yvette didn't answer her, but Daphne didn't mind her silence. She just continued speaking. "I do pity you, you know. You've never experienced true love before, have you? "Do you know that when I was with Xav, he would cook for me himself? When I was sick, he would drop everything and stay with me. "Has Xav ever told you he loves you? He used to say that to me all the time…" Yvette listened to Daphne's rambling quietly, her mind going over the past three years she had been married to Xavier. He had never so much as stepped into the kitchen during that time. When she had gotten sick, he had never comforted her. He had never told her he loved her either. … That night, Yvette couldn't fall asleep. She had only just found out that the man she had loved for the past 12 years had once loved another with all his heart, in the spectacular way that only young people could. At that moment, she realized that it was time for her to give him up. She had a sleepless night. The next morning, Xavier returned home. The glare he gave her was cold. "How attached are you to the Lane family's money, to me, your money-making robot?" he demanded. Yvette was stunned. She didn't know what had gotten into him so early in the morning. Instinctively, she said, "I never wanted your money." She had only ever wanted Xavier. Xavier laughed in disdain. "Then, why did your mother come to my office and beg me to give you a child?" Yvette was stunned. She stared into Xavier's eyes. It was only then that she realized that he wasn't angry about what had happened last night. Xavier had no desire to waste his breath on her. "If you want to continue staying with me and keep your family afloat, tell your mother to behave herself!" ... In the end, Yvette didn't need to look for Yara. Yara found Yvette instead. She was no longer cold and distant; she gripped Yvette's hands and said gently, "Yvvy, you should ask Xavier to give you a child. He doesn't have to do it biologically. He could do it through scientific measures." Scientific measures. Yvette stared at Yara in shock as the latter continued, "Daphne told me that Xavier hasn't slept with you in the past three years." That was the last straw for Yvette. She didn't know why Xavier would tell Daphne about that. Maybe he really loved Daphne a lot. With that thought, she suddenly felt relieved. "Just let it go, Mom." Yara paused. She frowned. "What?" "I'm tired. I want to get a divorce—" Before she could finish, Yara slapped her hard across the face. The kind, motherly facade was gone in an instant. She jabbed a finger at Yvette and gritted out, "You have no right to ask for a divorce! "Without the Lane family, what do you think you're going to do? Who's going to remarry a disabled divorcee like you?" Yvette felt her body go numb. Yara had never liked Yvette, even when the latter had been a child. Yara had been a famous dancer. The fact that she had given birth to a daughter with hearing issues was one of her biggest regrets. Therefore, she had sent Yvette away to be taken care of by a nanny. She had only allowed Yvette to return home when the latter started school. People used to tell Yvette that every mother loved their child. So, she had done everything she could to excel at everything in hopes of making Yara happy. Despite her hearing issues, she had been at the top of her class in dance, music, and art classes. But no matter how hard she tried, Yara still didn't consider her a good daughter. In Yara's words, Yvette wasn't "complete". Not only physically, but also in love and familial relationships. After Yara left, Yvette used some makeup to cover up the red print on her face. Then, she packed her bags quietly. Even after three years of married life, all her personal belongings fit into a single suitcase. After she finished packing up, she gathered her courage and sent Xavier a message. "Are you free tonight? I need to talk to you." Xavier didn't reply to her. Yvette's eyes darkened. She knew that he didn't want to reply to her messages. All she could do was wait for him to come home in the morning. She had thought that he wouldn't come home that night, but he got back at midnight. Yvette wasn't asleep at the time. She went up to him and took his coat and bag from him with familiarity in her actions. It was as if they were a normal married couple. Xavier's cold voice broke the peace. "Don't send me inane texts again." As Yvette held Xavier's coat, her hand trembled slightly. "I won't do it again," she mumbled. Xavier didn't notice anything wrong with her tone. He went straight to his study. Generally, if he came home, he would stay holed up in his study. He probably thought that someone who was hard of hearing would live in a silent world. Either that, or he simply didn't care about Yvette. That would explain why he got straight to discussing his acquisition of Snyder Group in his study as if nothing was wrong. When Yvette brought him some soup, she heard Xavier animatedly discussing work with his employees. He was talking about the acquisition of Snyder Group, her father, James Snyder's company. She didn't know how to feel about that. She knew that her brother, Terrence Synder, was useless at running a business, so it was only a matter of time before Snyder Group fell. However, she had never thought that her own husband would be the first to cause Snyder Group's downfall. "Xav," she interrupted. Xavier was slightly startled. Out of guilt, or maybe some other emotion, he quickly hung up the phone and closed his laptop. Feigning ignorance, Yvette walked into the study and placed the bowl in front of him. "Have some soup, then get to bed soon. Your health is more important than work." For some reason, Xavier felt himself relax when he heard her soft voice. She probably hadn't heard anything. Feeling conflicted, he stopped Yvette before she could leave. "You said you wanted to talk to me. What is it?" Hearing this, Yvette turned back to look at him. Softly, she said, "I just wanted to ask if you're free in the morning so we can go and file for divorce." Chapter 3 Yvette's voice was calm and impassive, as though divorce were a menial matter to her. Xavier's pupils contracted. "What did you just say?" Over the last three years, no matter what he had done, Yvette had never brought up divorce. In truth, Xavier knew that Yvette loved him. Her eyes, which were usually dull and empty, were clear and bright now. "I'm sorry for being a burden over the last few years, Mr. Lane. We should get divorced." Xavier clenched his fists unconsciously. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? Snyder Group was already failing; it won't matter whether I buy it or someone else does. What are you trying to do by bringing up divorce? "Is it because you want money? Or a child? Or do you want me to leave Snyder Group alone?" he asked coldly. "Don't forget that I don't love you. Your threats won't work on me!" At that moment, he seemed like a stranger to Yvette. A lump formed in her throat as her ears began throbbing. Even though she was wearing her hearing aids, she could barely hear what Xavier was saying. She could only answer his last question. "I don't want anything." Afraid that he would notice something wrong with her, Yvette left the study in a hurry. As he watched her leave, Xavier felt frustrated for some reason. He had never felt like this before. Not one to hold in his emotions, he flipped the table over. The bowl of soup that Yvette had brought him spilled all over the ground. ... Back in her own room, Yvette forced herself to swallow a handful of pills. She reached up to touch her ear. As she retracted her fingers, she saw crimson blood on them. Thanks to the medicine, her hearing recovered a little by the time it was dawn. Yvette stared blankly at the soft rays of sunlight streaming from the window. "The rain has stopped," she said quietly to herself. Xavier didn't leave the manor that day. He was in the living room bright and early, settled on the couch, waiting for Yvette to apologize and express her regret to him. This wasn't the first time Yvette had lost her temper with him. However, after every tantrum, she would apologize to him before long. Xavier figured that it would be the same this time around. Soon, he saw Yvette coming out of her room, all freshened up. She wore her usual dark-colored clothes. She dragged a suitcase with one hand while holding a piece of paper in the other. She handed the paper to him. It was a divorce agreement. "Let me know when you have time, Xav." With that, she left the manor, pulling her suitcase behind her. It was bright and sunny outside. Yvette felt as if she had gotten a new chance at life. Meanwhile, Xavier sat frozen on the couch, still clutching the divorce agreement in his hand. It took him a long time to come back to his senses. It was Saturday. Usually, around this time of the year, Xavier would take Yvette back to his hometown to pay respects to his ancestors. During this time, they would have to endure strange looks from his extended family. However, he was alone that day, which made him extraordinarily happy. At Lane Mansion, Shannon and the rest of the Lanes were surprised to see him alone. In the past, Yvette had always been the first one to turn up every year and the last to leave since she had been trying to please everyone. Why wasn't she there today? Shanon frowned and asked Xavier, "Where's Yvette, Xav?" Xavier's expression turned cold. "She wanted a divorce and left me." Everyone fell silent in disbelief when he said that. Shannon was shocked. She knew that Yvette probably loved Xavier more than anything in the world, only surpassed by his own parents. Seven years ago, Yvette had even protected Xavier with her own body when someone had attempted to stab him. Four years ago, not long after the two had gotten engaged, something had happened to Xavier while he had been on a business trip in Dibay. Everyone had been convinced that he was dead, but Yvette had refused to believe that. She had dropped everything and gone to the foreign city just to look for him. Then, after they had gotten married, Yvette had taken care of almost everything in his life with meticulous precision, including being polite to everyone around him, even his secretaries. She had always been afraid of offending them. Yvette clearly couldn't live without Xavier. So, why had she suggested getting a divorce? Shannon had no idea, but she was glad that Yvette had finally decided to let Xavier go. "She's not worthy to be your wife anyway. It's a good thing that you're divorcing her. She doesn't deserve you," she said The others immediately chimed in. "Yeah, you're young and handsome, Xav. You're in your best years now. Yvette's been dragging you down all this time!" Instantly, the gathering turned into a slander fest. They spoke of Yvette as if she were an unforgivable criminal. Xavier should have felt happy that they were defending him, but for some reason, he found their words too sharp and crass. He left Lane Mansion earlier than usual and made his way back to Dewberry Estate. The sky was just starting to darken when he arrived home. He opened the door and entered the manor. When he saw nothing but darkness, he remembered, with a start, that Yvette had left. He changed into his house slippers and tossed his coat into the washer. For some reason, he felt unusually exhausted today. He went to the wine cellar to get a bottle of wine so that he could celebrate Yvette's leaving. However, when he got to the wine cellar and saw the locked door, he realized too late that he didn't have the key. He didn't like strangers in his house, so there were no maids or servants at Dewberry Estate. Ever since he had married Yvette, she had been the one taking care of the household affairs. He could only go back to his room. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his messages only to find work-related texts. Yvette hadn't called or texted him to apologize at all. Tossing his phone aside, he got up and headed over to the kitchen. When he opened the door of the fridge, he was stunned. Apart from food, there were also a lot of supplements. He picked one of the bags up and read the instructions on it. "Take five times a day for incapable of conceived." He took a whiff of the supplement. It smelled disgusting. He recalled that Yvette always smelled strange. So, this was why. He scoffed silently. They had never slept, so no matter how much medicine she took, she would never have gotten conceived. ... Meanwhile, over in a dark and dinky hotel, Yvette opened her eyes blearily. Her head was pounding. The world was silent. She knew, then, that her condition had worsened again. Before this, she had still been able to hear some sounds, even without her hearing aids. She pushed herself up and felt around on the bedside table until she found her medicine. She popped the pills in her mouth, tasting their bitterness. The day before, she had left Dewberry Estate, which had been her home for the past three years. At first, she had gone to her parents' house, Snyder Residence. However, at the door, she had overheard Yara and Terrence discussing how they would marry her off to an old man if the Lanes kicked her out. Yvette had blanked upon hearing that. It was then that she finally realized that she had no place to call home anymore. Even though she hadn't eaten anything in two days, she still didn't feel hungry. However, it was too quiet. The silence scared her. It had been raining more frequently in Tirion this year than it had in previous years. Yvette stared out at the passing pedestrians. Most of them were paired up or in groups. She was the only one alone. She bought a bus ticket heading out of the city. She decided to go to her nanny's house in the countryside. Viola Xenos, her nanny, had taken care of her when she was a child. It was already 9:00 pm when Yvette got there. When Viola saw Yvette, she looked pleasantly surprised. Yvette teared up when she saw Viola's warm smile. She reached out to her and hugged her. "Viola." Due to health issues, Viola had never married and didn't have children of her own. Yvette was closer to her than she was to her own mother. That night, Yvette cuddled up in Viola's embrace, just like she had when she was a child. Viola wrapped her arms around Yvette, only to realize that the latter was very thin. She pressed a hand on the Yvette's bony back, trembling uncontrollably. Forcing herself to calm down, she asked cautiously, "Has Xavier been treating you well, Yvvy?" Yvette felt a sharp pain in her throat when she heard Xavier's name. She wanted to lie to Viola and tell her that Xavier had treated her well, but she knew that Viola wasn't silly. Since she had already made up her mind to leave him, there was no need to lie to herself or to the people who loved her any longer. "The person he loves has returned. I've decided to let him go and divorce him." Viola was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears. Yvette had told her multiple times before that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Xavier. Not knowing what else to say, she comforted Yvette by telling her that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. There was bound to be one who would love her. Yvette just nodded silently. The buzzing in her ears drowned out Viola's comforting voice. That night, she managed to get a good night's sleep, which was rare. However, when she woke up, she was greeted with the alarming sight of blood staining the spot where her head had laid on the pillow. Yvette touched her right ear. Her fingers felt sticky. She looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. Chapter 4 Even Yvette's hearing aids were stained red. Her pupils contracted, and she quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe her ear. Then, she stripped the bedsheets and washed them. She was afraid that Viola would worry about her if she found out that her illness was worsening. So, she cleaned up the mess and found an excuse to bid goodbye to Viola. Before she left, she placed a part of her savings on the bedside table without telling Viola. Viola walked Yvette to the bus stop and waved goodbye reluctantly. … After Yvette left, Viola couldn't stop thinking about how thin the former was. Unable to just sit by, she called Lane Group. When the secretary heard that Viola was Yvette's nanny and wanted to speak to Xavier, she transferred the call to Xavier's line. It was the third day after Yvette had left Xavier. It was also the first time in three days that he had received a call about her. Sitting behind his desk, he felt exceptionally pleased. Just as he had expected, Yvette wouldn't be able to last more than three days without him—or so he thought. Viola's voice came through the other line, sounding weighed with age. "Mr. Lane, I am Yvvy's nanny. I've been taking care of her since she was a baby. "Please, I beg you, treat her well. Don't hurt her more than you already have. She's not as strong as she seems on the surface. "When she was born, Mrs. Snyder left her in my care because she didn't like that Yvvy is hard of hearing. Yvvy only returned home when she had to start going to school. "The Snyders have never treated her as one of their own. Apart from Mr. Snyder, everyone else treated her like she was a maid. "You and Mr. Snyder are the most important people she has in this world. I'm begging you, please. Please be kind to her." Xavier's mood darkened when he heard what Viola said. "Did she tell you to give me this sob story because she didn't want to face me herself?" he asked coldly. "Why should I care about her life? If you ask me, she deserved everything she got!" That said, he hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. Viola had heard Yvette gushing about how nice Xavier was to her. So, it was only then that she realized the truth—Xavier wasn't a good man at all. He wasn't a good husband to Yvette. ... Yvette sat on the bus, heading home. Just then, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Xavier. "You said you wanted to get divorced, right? I'll see you at 10:00 am tomorrow." Yvette stared at the text blankly for a while before replying, "Okay." Just one word. It infuriated Xavier and completely ruined his mood. Unable to work anymore, he called up his friends and invited them out for drinks. Daphne was also at the club when he arrived. "I'm not going home until I'm drunk!" she declared. Tristan sat down beside Xavier. He couldn't help asking curiously, "How's Deaf Yvvy?" Xavier raised an eyebrow at him. "There's no need to talk about her ever again. We're filing for divorce tomorrow." Tristan was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears. "Really?" Beside them, Daphne brightened. She poured out a shot for him. "Congrats on getting back your freedom, Xav!" Xavier drank a lot that night. Daphne offered to send him home, but he rejected her suggestion. "No need. It's not appropriate." If he and Yvette were going to get divorced tomorrow, she might come home that night. Daphne wasn't happy about the rejection. "Why? You're divorcing her anyway. Why wouldn't it be appropriate? Are you still scared that she might find out about our relationship?" Their relationship? Xavier narrowed his eyes. "You're overthinking this." He got into his own car. Out of consideration, he also called a cab to send Daphne home. On the drive home, he kept unlocking his phone to check if Yvette had sent him any messages. She hadn't. When he reached Dewberry Estate, it was dark. With a stormy expression, Xavier opened the door and turned on the light. Yvette was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't come home. The manor was left exactly the way it had been when she had left. Still feeling the effects of the wine, Xavier threw himself heavily onto the couch and soon fell asleep. In his nightmares, Yvette was covered in blood, but there was a smile on her face. "I don't love you anymore, Xav," she said. When Xavier jolted awake, the sky outside had just brightened up. He rubbed his forehead and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up. Then, he changed into a smart suit and made his way to the courthouse. At the entrance of the courthouse, he spotted Yvette standing under a tree not far off. As usual, she was dressed in dark-colored clothes. From the distance, she looked incredibly frail and thin as she stood amid the drizzle. It was as if a single gust of wind could knock her over. Xavier could still remember how young and lively she had been when they had first gotten married. She hadn't been as thin and gloomy back then. Holding an umbrella, he walked toward Yvette. It took her a few moments to notice him. Xiaver hadn't changed much over the last three years. He was as handsome and as confident as ever, with the added hint of matureness that came with age. Yvette was a little dazed. The last three years felt like a blink in time to her, yet she also seemed to have exhausted a whole lifetime. Xavier stalked over to Yvette and gazed at her coldly. He was waiting for her to apologize to him. She had been sulking enough. It was time to put an end to this. However, Yvette just said, "I'm sorry to pull you away from your work. Let's go in." Xavier stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Don't regret this." With that, he turned and headed into the courthouse. Yvette stared after him sadly. Would she regret this? She didn't know either. In the courthouse, the judge asked them if they were sure about going through with the divorce. Yvette's answer was firm. "Yes." Her determined expression frustrated Xavier. After filing for divorce, they still had to return to the courthouse in a month. If they didn't show up, then the divorce would be considered null. As they left the courthouse, Yvette looked at Xavier, her expression unusually calm. "I'll see you next month. Take care." With that, she stepped out into the rain, hailed a cab, and left. Xavier was left standing on the spot. He didn't know how to feel as he watched her car leave. Relieved, probably. Relieved that he wouldn't need to put up with her any longer or endure others' ridicule for having a disabled wife. ... In the cab, Yvette leaned against the window and stared blankly at the rain droplets on the glass. In the rearview mirror, the driver suddenly saw blood dripping from her ear. He was shocked by the sight. "Miss? Miss!" Yvette didn't answer him. The driver hastily stopped the car. Yvette was confused. They weren't at her destination yet. Why had they stopped? She looked over at the driver and saw him mouthing silently. She realized that she had gone deaf again. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. What are you saying?" In the end, the driver had to type out what he wanted to say on his phone so that he could tell her about her bleeding ear. Yvette reached out belatedly and felt the warm sensation in her ear. She was used to it now. "It's alright. This happens all the time. I'm fine." She was hard of hearing, but her ears hadn't bled like this before. Two years ago, at a gathering, Tristan had pushed her into a swimming pool. Yvette didn't know how to swim, so she had almost drowned. At the same time, her eardrums had also expanded due to the pressure. She had been sent to the hospital, but the damage had been done. At the time, she had been told that everything was fine. Why was this happening again? The cab driver was still worried, so he dropped her off at the hospital she told him. After thanking him, Yvette went into the hospital on her own. This time, she saw her usual doctor, Tom Jensen. "Dr. Jensen, my memory has been rather bad lately. I kept forgetting what I'm doing," she said. When she had woken up at the hotel that morning, it had taken her a long time to remember that she had to file for divorce with Xavier. Tom looked at her latest report worriedly. "Ms. Snyder, I think you should consider getting tested for other things. Specifically, mental health issues." Mental health… Following Tom's recommendation, Yvette went and got a psychiatric diagnosis. She was diagnosed with depression. It turned out that patients with severe depression often experienced memory loss. Before heading back to the hotel, Yvette stopped and bought a notebook and a pen. She wrote down everything that had happened lately. She placed the notebook right beside her bed so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning. News of her and Xavier's divorce spread quickly. That night, Yara called her multiple times, but she didn't hear anything. … When she woke up the next morning, she saw a barrage of texts from Yara. "Where are you?" "Who do you think you are? Even if you're getting a divorce, Xavier should have been the one to ask for it!" "You're such a jinx! Back when you got married, your dad got into a car crash and died. What's going to happen now that you're getting divorced? Do you want Snyder Group to go bankrupt? Is that it?" Yvette stared at the messages. She was used to the verbal bully by now. She typed out a reply. "Mom, it's time that we live by our own merits. We shouldn't depend on others so much." Yara's response was swift. "You're such an ingrate! I shouldn't have given birth to you in the first place!" Yvette didn't bother replying to that. She placed her phone aside. She just had to wait a month. Once the divorce was finalized, she would be able to leave Tirion and start a new life. … Yvette's health worsened over the next few days. She often found herself completely deaf. Sometimes, it took a very long time for her hearing to go back to normal. Her memory was deteriorating too. On the bright side, even though her hearing loss was incurable, at least she could do something about the depression. She tried everything she could to keep herself happy. She busied herself by registering as a volunteer online. She spent time taking care of abandoned old people and orphans. Helping them made her feel like she had a reason to continue living. A few days later, Yvette woke up in the morning and checked her notebook as usual. Then, she got ready to head out to the orphanage. When she picked up her phone, she saw several unread messages. There were messages from Terrance and Yara, as well as Daphne. She opened the texts one by one. Yara: "As you wished, Snyder Group is no more." Terrence: "Keep hiding. You're the most cowardly and cruel person I've ever seen." Daphne: "My condolences, Yvette. Actually, I think Snyder Group would thrive better under Xav." Daphne: "Since your family has helped me so much in the past, do let me know if you need anything. I'll help you if I can." Yvette had no idea what was happening. She closed the messaging app. Almost immediately, she got a notification about the latest news. Chapter 5 Yvette watched the news and saw the press conference held by Lane Group. It was an announcement that Xavier had successfully acquired Snyder Group. James' company no longer existed in the world. … Things on Xavier's end had been extra pleasant lately. He had acquired Snyder Group and gotten his revenge. "The Snyder family finally got what they deserved for tricking you into that marriage three years ago." Tristan chuckled. Yet, he changed the topic in the next instant. He asked Xavier, "Xav, has Deaf Yvvy approached you during the past few days?" Xavier froze halfway through signing a document. He didn't know why, but people around him kept mentioning Yvette these days. "No," he replied coldly. That shocked Tristan. After all, how could Yvette not do anything when something this massive had happened to her family? With that in mind, he spoke again. "Could it be that she's finally come around? I heard her family has been looking everywhere for her. Nobody knows where she's gone—" He kept blabbering on. Xavier frowned, feeling utterly annoyed. "Get out!" Tristan jolted. That was when he realized that Xavier was furious. Not daring to say another word, Tristan bolted out of the CEO's office. Once outside, he took his phone and called his assistant, Avery Fitzpatrick. "Have you found Yvette?" "Yes, she's in a small hotel in Hexim Pass," answered Avery. Tristan had Avery send him the location before he drove there. He refused to let Yvette off the hook so easily. So what if she was willing to divorce Xavier now? She had already prevented Xavier and Daphne from being together for over three years! Besides, Daphne had saved Tristan's life once, so he owed her. It rained outside. Yvette finished her volunteer work and picked up her medication from the hospital. Then, she held an umbrella while walking back to the hotel. There were very few people on the road. Tristan drove his car but kept his eyes on Yvette's slim back. He deliberately sped up as he drove past her, sending a puddle of rainwater splashing onto her. Yvette shot him a blank stare. Tristan happened to meet her emotionless gaze through his rearview mirror. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably nervous. Yvette recognized Tristan's luxurious, dark gray Bugatti. Yet, she retracted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. Even so, Tristan refused to stop there. He deliberately slowed his car and followed her. "Hey, Deaf Yvvy. So, you have a temper now, huh? "You're not even going to greet me now? Didn't you used to love greeting me? Didn't you enjoy tickling my fancy?" Yvette remained stoic while the former mocked her. She used to do everything to win over those around Xavier, including his friends. It was all because she liked him. She had figured that Xavier's family and friends would one day accept her. Alas, it seemed she had been too naïve. At the previous gathering, Tristan had declared that he was Daphne's friend. He couldn't care less about maintaining his gentlemanly, upper-class image when siding with Daphne. He had insulted Yvette and called her shameless. In the end, he had also thrown her into the pool, leaving her to die. Since then, Yvette had steered clear of him. Upon receiving no reaction or response from Yvette, Tristan stopped the car, opened the door, and strolled toward her. He grabbed her arm and asked, "What stunts are you planning to pull this time?" Yvette's arm hurt, so she looked up at him. "I don't know what you're saying." She wanted to pry his hand off her arm, but he flung her aside. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!" Tristan bellowed. Yvette stumbled backward before falling to the ground with a loud thud. Tristan froze on the spot in slight disbelief. It baffled him to see Yvette resorting to such tricks. He had only pushed her with a slight force, so how could she fall like that? Seeing people looking their way, he nervously got back into his car. Still, he gave her a warning before driving away. "Don't mess with Daph just because you're a disabled person, Yvette! "She's different from you. It's taken her a lot of effort to get to where she is now, so you'd better not disrupt her and Xav's relationship again!" After driving away, he even told the Snyder family where Yvette was staying. Yvette's hands and knees were scraped when she fell. It hurt so much that she couldn't stand for a long time. Deep down, she didn't understand why Tristan was so blind to what was right and wrong. She recalled risking her life to rescue him from a car that had been about to explode four years ago. His face had been covered in blood, and his eyes hadn't been visible. However, he had spoken in the warmest voice. He had said, "Thank you. I promise I'll repay you someday." Yvette couldn't help but bitterly wonder if this was his way of repaying her. … Once Yvette returned to the hotel, she took a shower and applied medication to her scraped skin. Then, she lay down in a daze. The fall hardened her determination to leave Xavier for good. … The sun was shining brightly outside when Yvette woke up. She got up and headed to the living area, only to see Yara sitting on the couch, wearing a formal dress. Yara didn't seem to care one bit that Yvette had just woken up. She picked the document off the coffee table and handed it to the latter. "Take a good look at this. It's the backup plan I've selected for you." Yvette accepted the document but saw the title "prenuptial agreement" on the cover. She flipped through the pages while reading the contents aloud. "Ms. Yvette Snyder will marry Mr. Liam Lorimer. As his wife, she'll devote herself to him and look after him until the end of his life. Liam will look after Yvette's family, which includes maintaining their quality of life. He'll also provide 300 million as funds for the Snyder family." Following that, the document stated Liam's details. He was an entrepreneur from the older generation in Tirion. He was 78 years old that year. Yvette's mind tensed. At that moment, Yara spoke up again. "Mr. Lorimer has expressed that he doesn't mind that you were married before. "He'll help revive our family's reputation from the ashes, as long as you marry him. Come on, dearest. You wouldn't let me and Terrence down, right?" Yvette's face paled even more. "I can't agree to what you're asking of me." Yara had never imagined that Yvette would reject her so candidly. She blew up in a fit of rage at once. "What right do you have to refuse? I gave you life!" Hearing that, Yvette met Yara's gaze. "How about I return my life to you? Would that mean I no longer owe you?" "What did you say?" Yara shrilled. Yvette's pale lips moved as she said, "If I returned my life to you, would it mean you'd no longer be my mother? And I'll no longer be indebted to you for giving birth to me?" Yara sneered, not believing Yvette would dare do such a thing. "Okay, then. I won't force you to marry Mr. Lorimer if you give your life back to me. But the question is, do you have the guts to do it?" "Give me a month." Yvette seemed determined. In Yara's eyes, Yvette seemed like a crazed person. She warned, "You'd best not threaten me by only saying you'll end your life. We're not that close, so I don't care if you die. However, you must sign this document if you're too afraid to end your life." … Yvette had suppressed all her emotions to the brim and needed to vent somewhere. So, she went to a bar. She sat in a corner, drinking and watching the crowd happily dance in a daze. That was when a dashing man with striking eyes noticed Yvette, who was all alone. He approached and asked, "Yvette?" Yvette stared at the man but didn't recognize him. Still dazed, she asked, "Do you know how one can achieve happiness?" The man was confused. "What did you say?" Yvette continued drinking as she spoke. "The doctor says I'm ill and should try to be happier, but I can't make myself feel happy…" That sparked discomfort in the man, Claude Lander. He wondered if Yvette had forgotten about him. Also, he was confused by what she said—something about being ill and needing to be happier. "You shouldn't be in a place like this if you want to be happy. Why don't I drive you home?" Claude spoke in a gentle tone. A smile curved across Yvette's face as she looked at him. "You're a good person." Complex emotions stirred in Claude when he saw her bitter smile. He wondered what she had been through these past few years. Why did she seem so sorrowful? Meanwhile, Xavier was also at the bar. After settling the divorce papers, he had let himself loose every night. On top of that, he hadn't returned to Dewberry Estate in a long time. It was getting late. When the crowd was about to leave, Daphne noticed a familiar figure in a corner of the bar. She exclaimed, "Isn't that Yvvy?" Xavier glanced in the direction Daphne was staring in and saw a man merrily chatting with Yvette. His expression soured at once. He was disappointed in Yvette for getting drunk at a bar and chatting up another man. He felt like he had thought too highly of her before. "Should we go and check up on her, Xav?" asked Daphne. "No," was all Xavier said before speedily leaving. On the other hand, Yvette declined Claude's offer. "There's no need to trouble yourself. I can go home on my own." Claude was still worried about Yvette, so he ran after her when he noticed her leaving the bar. "Do you really not remember me?" Yvette gazed at him but couldn't recall who he was. "It's Chubbs. Have you forgotten?" Claude reminded her. Only then did Yvette remember her friend, Chubbs, whom she met when she had been living with Viola in the countryside. Back then, Claude had been chubbier and nowhere near Yvette's height. Yet, his six-foot-two-inch frame now towered over her. He had even grown to have handsome features. "I remember now! You've changed so much. I didn't even recognize you!" said Yvette. Meeting an old friend away from home was a pleasant thing. But only a slight smile curved on Yvette's face. That upset Claude. "Come on. I'll drive you home," Claude stated. When he dropped her off, he was shocked to learn she lived in a run-down hotel. Yvette shifted in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's not a glamorous place. Please don't tell Viola I'm living in such a place. I don't want her to worry." Claude nodded. Since it was getting late, it was unwise for him to stay longer. So, he left after telling Yvette he would visit her the next day. He didn't notice the matte black car lingering in a dark area beneath the hotel as he walked out. Now that Claude had left, Yvette felt dizzy and had an upset stomach from drinking too much. That was when someone knocked hard on the door. Yvette had just opened the door when Xavier grabbed her wrist. He exerted so much strength on her slender wrist that it felt close to snapping in half. "You've made me look at you in a new light, Yvette!" Xavier snarled while shutting and locking the door. He then forcefully led her to the couch. He sneered with words as sharp and lethal as a blade, "So, you've already settled on which family you'll marry into next, huh? I knew you wouldn't be so willing to let me go for no reason!" Yvette didn't know why he had come over, nor did she know how he had seen Claude. She was only briefly dazed. Once she snapped out of it, she shot a furious look at Xavier and didn't bother explaining herself to him. The rims of her eyes reddened. "You and I aren't that different from each other." The Snyder family had tricked Xavier into marrying Yvette. However, Xavier had treated her coldly for three years while remaining entangled with his first love. Neither Xavier nor Yvette was a better person than the other. Xavier had also drunk some wine, so he reeked of it. Eyes reddening, he pinched Yvette's chin and spoke with a dangerously low voice. "Who is he? When did you guys meet?" That was the first time Yvette had seen him behave like this. She suddenly chuckled. "Are you jealous?" Xavier's gaze grew tense as he scoffed. "You're unworthy of such a reaction." Yvette became choked up. That was when Xavier leaned in domineeringly and continued interrogating her. "Has he already touched you? Huh?" In her three years of marriage, Yvette had given up on her work and declined to meet her friends whenever they had occasionally invited her out. She had done so to obey the Lane family's rules. But now Xavier was suspicious of her. Relief washed over Yvette just then. She questioned him back, "What do you think?" That utterly angered Xavier, and his heated hands started travelling down her body. | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457023493_8130919900276575_3500800934228782898_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p40Zou8ympYQ7kNvgH0i6UO&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYD6jAWHHV5Nwd0eBGqk5aaVp9Vx5MClmoZSZEvdzx7xAw&oe=670A6BDB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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❤️😍What happens next👉 | Chapter 1 Yvette Snyder stood at the entrance of the hospital, her body frail, clutching a report in her thin hands. Three words on the report stood out: "No conception detected". "You've been married for three years. How are you not conceived?" Her mother, Yara Cadwell, demanded, jabbing a finger in Yvette's face disappointedly. Yara was dressed lavishly and wore high heels. "Why are you so useless? If you don't get conceived soon, the Lanes are going to kick you out of the family. What's going to happen to our family then?" Yvette looked at Yara blankly. She had a lot to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. In the end, all she could manage was, "I'm sorry." "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to give birth to Xavier's child. Do you understand me?" Yvette's throat felt tight; she didn't know how to answer Yara. In their three years of marriage, her husband, Xavier Lane, had never slept with her. How could she ever have his child? Yara stared at Yvette. The latter's weak demeanor was so unlike her own. Finally, she said coldly before leaving, "If you really can't give him a child, then find him a woman who can. At least he'll appreciate you for that." Yvette stared after Yara's retreating figure in disbelief. Had her own mother just told her to find another woman for her husband to sleep with? ... As Yvette made her journey home, she couldn't stop thinking about Yara's parting words. Suddenly, a loud ringing in her ear drowned out her thoughts. She knew that her condition had worsened. Just then, she received a message on her phone. It was from Xavier, and the content was the same as always. "I'm not coming home tonight." In the past three years they had been married, Xavier had never spent the night at home before. He had never so much as touched Yvette either. Yvette could remember their wedding night three years ago. He had told her, "Since your family is bold enough to trick me into marrying you, you'd better be prepared to spend the rest of your life in loneliness." Three years ago, the Snyder and Lane families had decided to form an alliance through marriage. Both families had agreed to mutually beneficial terms in the agreement. But when the day of the wedding came around, the Snyder family went back on their word and transferred all of their assets away, including the billions that Xavier had paid to marry Yvette. Yvette's eyes dulled at the memory. She replied to Xavier's text with her usual response: "Okay." Without her realizing it, the report she was holding got scrunched up in her hands. When she got home, Yvette tossed the report into the trash can. Every month, around this time, she would feel unusually lethargic. Yvette didn't prepare dinner for herself. She just leaned back on the couch, blearily drifting in and out of sleep. The rumbling in her ear persisted. That was another reason why Xavier hated her—she was hard of hearing, which, to the rich and powerful, was no better than being crippled. Xavier would never allow her to carry his child. … At 5 o'clock in the morning, the pendulum clock on the wall chimed dully. Xavier would be home in an hour. Yvette realized too late that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She got up hastily and went to the kitchen to prepare Xavier's breakfast. Xavier was a meticulous man who was strict about punctuality, not only with himself but also with the people around him. He arrived home at six o'clock sharp. Xavier was a tall and handsome man. Clad in a smart tailored suit, his demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet undoubtedly masculine. However, to Yvette, he was cold and distant. Xavier didn't even look at Yvette. He walked right past her to look at the food on the table and said with a scoff, "You do this every day. Are you a nanny or what?" Over the past three years, Yvette had been doing the same things over and over again. She wore the same dark clothes and replied to his messages with the same singular word. If it hadn't been for the business alliance and the Snyders' deceit, Xavier would never have married a woman like Yvette. At the word "nanny", the rumbling in Yvette's ears returned. She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat, and said bravely, "Xav, do you have someone that you like?" Her sudden question surprised Xavier. His eyes darkened. "What do you mean by that?" Yvette raised her head and stared at him, swallowing the bile rising in the back of her throat. "If you love someone else, you can be with her—" Before she could finish, Xavier interrupted her. "You're mad." ... After Xavier left, Yvette sat on the balcony alone, staring out into the cold rain. The sound of the raindrops drifted in and out of clarity. She took off her hearing aids, letting the world around her fall into silence. A month ago, her doctor had told her, "Ms. Snyder, there's been a pathological change in your auditory nerves and some of your cranial nerves, causing your hearing to worsen. If this goes on, you may lose your hearing completely." Not used to a silent world, Yvette went to the living room and turned on the television. She turned up the volume to the max, which allowed her to hear some sound. By coincidence, the television was showing an interview with Daphne Reyes, an internationally renowned singer known for her love songs. Yvette's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the remote control. Daphne was Xavier's first love. It had been a long time since Yvette had seen her, but Daphne was still as pretty as ever. She was confident and relaxed in front of the cameras, unlike the shy and frightened young woman who had begged the Snyders for sponsorship in the past. When the interviewer asked Daphne why she had returned to her home country, her answer was bold. "I came home to get my first love back." The remote control slipped out of Yvette's hands. Her heart also fell to her stomach. Flustered, Yvette turned off the television and went to the table to clean up the uneaten breakfast. When she got to the kitchen, she found that Xavier had forgotten to take his phone. She picked it up and saw the unread messages on the lock screen. "Xav, you must have been unhappy over the past few years, right?" "I know you don't love her. How about we meet up tonight? I've missed you." Yvette stared blankly at the messages until the screen went dark again. Then, she called a cab to Xavier's office. On the way, she stared out of the window. The rain fell incessantly. It felt like it would never stop. Xavier never liked it when Yvette visited him at his office, so whenever she was there, she would take the service elevator from the loading bay. When Xavier's assistant, Mark Xyrax, saw her, he just greeted her impassively, "Ms. Snyder." No one around Xavier considered Yvette his wife. She was nothing but a smear on his reputation. When Xavier saw Yvette bringing him his phone, he frowned. She was always like this. No matter what he forgot, be it his lunch, his documents, a shirt, or even an umbrella, she would bring them to him. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to deliver my things to me yourself." Yvette froze. "Sorry, I forgot." Since when had her memory been so bad? Maybe she had panicked after seeing Daphne's message and became afraid that Xavier would disappear from her life suddenly. Before she left, she looked back at Xavier. Unable to help herself, she blurted out, "Xav, do you still like Daphne?" Xavier thought that Yvette had been behaving rather strangely lately. She kept forgetting things and asking weird questions. How could a person like her be his wife? Impatiently, he replied, "If you have so much free time, go find yourself something to do." Yvette had tried getting a job before, but Xavier's mother, Shannon Guetta, had reprimanded her without holding back. "Do you want the whole world to know that Xav married a disabled woman with hearing issues?" Therefore, Yvette had given up on finding a job and focused on her fruitless life as "Mrs. Lane" at Dewberry Estate. … At home, she sat alone until nightfall. She couldn't sleep. Just then, the phone on her bedside table rang loudly. It was a call from an unfamiliar number. Yvette picked up the call. A familiar voice, yet one she dreaded, sounded from the other end. "Is this Yvvy? Xav is drunk. Can you come pick him up?" When Yvette arrived at Sternhow Club, she heard loud coaxing and jeering from the wealthy heirs inside the private room. "Daph, didn't you say you came back to get our dear Mr. Lane back into your arms? This is your chance now. Go on, tell him how you feel!" Daphne was a pretty woman who was popular wherever she went. She was also Xavier's first love, so the rich young men of the upper crust were happy to push the two together. Daphne wasn't shy at all. She turned to Xavier and said without any reservations, "I like you, Xav. Please be with me again." That was what Yvette heard when she arrived at the door of the private room. Inside, the other people were urging Xavier to answer Daphne. His best friend, Tristan Shaw, was the most vocal among them. "Xav, you've been waiting for Daphne for three years. She's back now. So, go on, answer her!" Yvette stood frozen outside the door. Her heart was pounding. Just then, one of the men pulled the door open. "Ms. Snyder?" Chapter 2 Everyone in the private room looked over at the door. For a moment, the room was eerily silent. Yvette immediately caught sight of Xavier in the middle of the room. His eyes were clear and bright. He was clearly not drunk. She knew that she had been tricked by Daphne. When Xavier saw Yvette, his pupils constricted. Everyone else in the room looked awkward, including Tristan, who had been the most vocal in getting Xavier to accept Daphne's confession earlier. Yvette shouldn't have gone there. Daphne was the first to break the silence. "Please don't get the wrong idea, Yvvy. Tristan was joking. Xavier and I are just friends." Before Yvette could answer, Xavier stood up impatiently. "There's no need to explain it to her." Then, he stalked over to Yvette. "What are you doing here?" "I thought you were drunk, so I came to take you home," Yvette answered truthfully. Xavier scoffed. "You really didn't retain anything I told you, did you?" Lowering his voice, he said softly so that only she could hear him, "Are you here to remind everyone that I was tricked into marrying you three years ago? Did you think they forgot?" Yvette was stunned. Xavier gave her a cold look. "Stop seeking attention. You're only making me hate you more." With that, he turned away, leaving Yvette standing alone. Yvette stared after his retreating figure, unable to snap out of her shock. None of the other scions in the room took pity on her when they saw Xavier ignoring her. Tristan even had no qualms in telling Daphne, who was feigning distress, "You're too kind, Daphne. You didn't need to explain anything. "If Yvette hadn't scammed Xav, he would've married you in the first place. You wouldn't have needed to suffer abroad as well." Despite the constant ringing in her ears, Yvette could still hear every word clearly. She knew better than anyone that even if Xavier hadn't married her, he wouldn't have married Daphne. Daphne was a nobody with no background, after all. Daphne was well aware of this as well. That was why she had chosen to break up with Xavier and leave the country. How had everything turned out to be Yvette's fault? When Yvette left Sternhow Club with her umbrella, she felt as if she had been enveloped by darkness. Just then, a lithe figure appeared beside her. It was Daphne. She was decked out in fine clothes, complete with high heels. She looked smug. "It's a cold night, isn't it? So, how does it feel to get scoffed at by Xavier after you came all the way here at this time to get him?" Yvette didn't answer her, but Daphne didn't mind her silence. She just continued speaking. "I do pity you, you know. You've never experienced true love before, have you? "Do you know that when I was with Xav, he would cook for me himself? When I was sick, he would drop everything and stay with me. "Has Xav ever told you he loves you? He used to say that to me all the time…" Yvette listened to Daphne's rambling quietly, her mind going over the past three years she had been married to Xavier. He had never so much as stepped into the kitchen during that time. When she had gotten sick, he had never comforted her. He had never told her he loved her either. … That night, Yvette couldn't fall asleep. She had only just found out that the man she had loved for the past 12 years had once loved another with all his heart, in the spectacular way that only young people could. At that moment, she realized that it was time for her to give him up. She had a sleepless night. The next morning, Xavier returned home. The glare he gave her was cold. "How attached are you to the Lane family's money, to me, your money-making robot?" he demanded. Yvette was stunned. She didn't know what had gotten into him so early in the morning. Instinctively, she said, "I never wanted your money." She had only ever wanted Xavier. Xavier laughed in disdain. "Then, why did your mother come to my office and beg me to give you a child?" Yvette was stunned. She stared into Xavier's eyes. It was only then that she realized that he wasn't angry about what had happened last night. Xavier had no desire to waste his breath on her. "If you want to continue staying with me and keep your family afloat, tell your mother to behave herself!" ... In the end, Yvette didn't need to look for Yara. Yara found Yvette instead. She was no longer cold and distant; she gripped Yvette's hands and said gently, "Yvvy, you should ask Xavier to give you a child. He doesn't have to do it biologically. He could do it through scientific measures." Scientific measures. Yvette stared at Yara in shock as the latter continued, "Daphne told me that Xavier hasn't slept with you in the past three years." That was the last straw for Yvette. She didn't know why Xavier would tell Daphne about that. Maybe he really loved Daphne a lot. With that thought, she suddenly felt relieved. "Just let it go, Mom." Yara paused. She frowned. "What?" "I'm tired. I want to get a divorce—" Before she could finish, Yara slapped her hard across the face. The kind, motherly facade was gone in an instant. She jabbed a finger at Yvette and gritted out, "You have no right to ask for a divorce! "Without the Lane family, what do you think you're going to do? Who's going to remarry a disabled divorcee like you?" Yvette felt her body go numb. Yara had never liked Yvette, even when the latter had been a child. Yara had been a famous dancer. The fact that she had given birth to a daughter with hearing issues was one of her biggest regrets. Therefore, she had sent Yvette away to be taken care of by a nanny. She had only allowed Yvette to return home when the latter started school. People used to tell Yvette that every mother loved their child. So, she had done everything she could to excel at everything in hopes of making Yara happy. Despite her hearing issues, she had been at the top of her class in dance, music, and art classes. But no matter how hard she tried, Yara still didn't consider her a good daughter. In Yara's words, Yvette wasn't "complete". Not only physically, but also in love and familial relationships. After Yara left, Yvette used some makeup to cover up the red print on her face. Then, she packed her bags quietly. Even after three years of married life, all her personal belongings fit into a single suitcase. After she finished packing up, she gathered her courage and sent Xavier a message. "Are you free tonight? I need to talk to you." Xavier didn't reply to her. Yvette's eyes darkened. She knew that he didn't want to reply to her messages. All she could do was wait for him to come home in the morning. She had thought that he wouldn't come home that night, but he got back at midnight. Yvette wasn't asleep at the time. She went up to him and took his coat and bag from him with familiarity in her actions. It was as if they were a normal married couple. Xavier's cold voice broke the peace. "Don't send me inane texts again." As Yvette held Xavier's coat, her hand trembled slightly. "I won't do it again," she mumbled. Xavier didn't notice anything wrong with her tone. He went straight to his study. Generally, if he came home, he would stay holed up in his study. He probably thought that someone who was hard of hearing would live in a silent world. Either that, or he simply didn't care about Yvette. That would explain why he got straight to discussing his acquisition of Snyder Group in his study as if nothing was wrong. When Yvette brought him some soup, she heard Xavier animatedly discussing work with his employees. He was talking about the acquisition of Snyder Group, her father, James Snyder's company. She didn't know how to feel about that. She knew that her brother, Terrence Synder, was useless at running a business, so it was only a matter of time before Snyder Group fell. However, she had never thought that her own husband would be the first to cause Snyder Group's downfall. "Xav," she interrupted. Xavier was slightly startled. Out of guilt, or maybe some other emotion, he quickly hung up the phone and closed his laptop. Feigning ignorance, Yvette walked into the study and placed the bowl in front of him. "Have some soup, then get to bed soon. Your health is more important than work." For some reason, Xavier felt himself relax when he heard her soft voice. She probably hadn't heard anything. Feeling conflicted, he stopped Yvette before she could leave. "You said you wanted to talk to me. What is it?" Hearing this, Yvette turned back to look at him. Softly, she said, "I just wanted to ask if you're free in the morning so we can go and file for divorce." Chapter 3 Yvette's voice was calm and impassive, as though divorce were a menial matter to her. Xavier's pupils contracted. "What did you just say?" Over the last three years, no matter what he had done, Yvette had never brought up divorce. In truth, Xavier knew that Yvette loved him. Her eyes, which were usually dull and empty, were clear and bright now. "I'm sorry for being a burden over the last few years, Mr. Lane. We should get divorced." Xavier clenched his fists unconsciously. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? Snyder Group was already failing; it won't matter whether I buy it or someone else does. What are you trying to do by bringing up divorce? "Is it because you want money? Or a child? Or do you want me to leave Snyder Group alone?" he asked coldly. "Don't forget that I don't love you. Your threats won't work on me!" At that moment, he seemed like a stranger to Yvette. A lump formed in her throat as her ears began throbbing. Even though she was wearing her hearing aids, she could barely hear what Xavier was saying. She could only answer his last question. "I don't want anything." Afraid that he would notice something wrong with her, Yvette left the study in a hurry. As he watched her leave, Xavier felt frustrated for some reason. He had never felt like this before. Not one to hold in his emotions, he flipped the table over. The bowl of soup that Yvette had brought him spilled all over the ground. ... Back in her own room, Yvette forced herself to swallow a handful of pills. She reached up to touch her ear. As she retracted her fingers, she saw crimson blood on them. Thanks to the medicine, her hearing recovered a little by the time it was dawn. Yvette stared blankly at the soft rays of sunlight streaming from the window. "The rain has stopped," she said quietly to herself. Xavier didn't leave the manor that day. He was in the living room bright and early, settled on the couch, waiting for Yvette to apologize and express her regret to him. This wasn't the first time Yvette had lost her temper with him. However, after every tantrum, she would apologize to him before long. Xavier figured that it would be the same this time around. Soon, he saw Yvette coming out of her room, all freshened up. She wore her usual dark-colored clothes. She dragged a suitcase with one hand while holding a piece of paper in the other. She handed the paper to him. It was a divorce agreement. "Let me know when you have time, Xav." With that, she left the manor, pulling her suitcase behind her. It was bright and sunny outside. Yvette felt as if she had gotten a new chance at life. Meanwhile, Xavier sat frozen on the couch, still clutching the divorce agreement in his hand. It took him a long time to come back to his senses. It was Saturday. Usually, around this time of the year, Xavier would take Yvette back to his hometown to pay respects to his ancestors. During this time, they would have to endure strange looks from his extended family. However, he was alone that day, which made him extraordinarily happy. At Lane Mansion, Shannon and the rest of the Lanes were surprised to see him alone. In the past, Yvette had always been the first one to turn up every year and the last to leave since she had been trying to please everyone. Why wasn't she there today? Shanon frowned and asked Xavier, "Where's Yvette, Xav?" Xavier's expression turned cold. "She wanted a divorce and left me." Everyone fell silent in disbelief when he said that. Shannon was shocked. She knew that Yvette probably loved Xavier more than anything in the world, only surpassed by his own parents. Seven years ago, Yvette had even protected Xavier with her own body when someone had attempted to stab him. Four years ago, not long after the two had gotten engaged, something had happened to Xavier while he had been on a business trip in Dibay. Everyone had been convinced that he was dead, but Yvette had refused to believe that. She had dropped everything and gone to the foreign city just to look for him. Then, after they had gotten married, Yvette had taken care of almost everything in his life with meticulous precision, including being polite to everyone around him, even his secretaries. She had always been afraid of offending them. Yvette clearly couldn't live without Xavier. So, why had she suggested getting a divorce? Shannon had no idea, but she was glad that Yvette had finally decided to let Xavier go. "She's not worthy to be your wife anyway. It's a good thing that you're divorcing her. She doesn't deserve you," she said The others immediately chimed in. "Yeah, you're young and handsome, Xav. You're in your best years now. Yvette's been dragging you down all this time!" Instantly, the gathering turned into a slander fest. They spoke of Yvette as if she were an unforgivable criminal. Xavier should have felt happy that they were defending him, but for some reason, he found their words too sharp and crass. He left Lane Mansion earlier than usual and made his way back to Dewberry Estate. The sky was just starting to darken when he arrived home. He opened the door and entered the manor. When he saw nothing but darkness, he remembered, with a start, that Yvette had left. He changed into his house slippers and tossed his coat into the washer. For some reason, he felt unusually exhausted today. He went to the wine cellar to get a bottle of wine so that he could celebrate Yvette's leaving. However, when he got to the wine cellar and saw the locked door, he realized too late that he didn't have the key. He didn't like strangers in his house, so there were no maids or servants at Dewberry Estate. Ever since he had married Yvette, she had been the one taking care of the household affairs. He could only go back to his room. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his messages only to find work-related texts. Yvette hadn't called or texted him to apologize at all. Tossing his phone aside, he got up and headed over to the kitchen. When he opened the door of the fridge, he was stunned. Apart from food, there were also a lot of supplements. He picked one of the bags up and read the instructions on it. "Take five times a day for incapable of conceived." He took a whiff of the supplement. It smelled disgusting. He recalled that Yvette always smelled strange. So, this was why. He scoffed silently. They had never slept, so no matter how much medicine she took, she would never have gotten conceived. ... Meanwhile, over in a dark and dinky hotel, Yvette opened her eyes blearily. Her head was pounding. The world was silent. She knew, then, that her condition had worsened again. Before this, she had still been able to hear some sounds, even without her hearing aids. She pushed herself up and felt around on the bedside table until she found her medicine. She popped the pills in her mouth, tasting their bitterness. The day before, she had left Dewberry Estate, which had been her home for the past three years. At first, she had gone to her parents' house, Snyder Residence. However, at the door, she had overheard Yara and Terrence discussing how they would marry her off to an old man if the Lanes kicked her out. Yvette had blanked upon hearing that. It was then that she finally realized that she had no place to call home anymore. Even though she hadn't eaten anything in two days, she still didn't feel hungry. However, it was too quiet. The silence scared her. It had been raining more frequently in Tirion this year than it had in previous years. Yvette stared out at the passing pedestrians. Most of them were paired up or in groups. She was the only one alone. She bought a bus ticket heading out of the city. She decided to go to her nanny's house in the countryside. Viola Xenos, her nanny, had taken care of her when she was a child. It was already 9:00 pm when Yvette got there. When Viola saw Yvette, she looked pleasantly surprised. Yvette teared up when she saw Viola's warm smile. She reached out to her and hugged her. "Viola." Due to health issues, Viola had never married and didn't have children of her own. Yvette was closer to her than she was to her own mother. That night, Yvette cuddled up in Viola's embrace, just like she had when she was a child. Viola wrapped her arms around Yvette, only to realize that the latter was very thin. She pressed a hand on the Yvette's bony back, trembling uncontrollably. Forcing herself to calm down, she asked cautiously, "Has Xavier been treating you well, Yvvy?" Yvette felt a sharp pain in her throat when she heard Xavier's name. She wanted to lie to Viola and tell her that Xavier had treated her well, but she knew that Viola wasn't silly. Since she had already made up her mind to leave him, there was no need to lie to herself or to the people who loved her any longer. "The person he loves has returned. I've decided to let him go and divorce him." Viola was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears. Yvette had told her multiple times before that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Xavier. Not knowing what else to say, she comforted Yvette by telling her that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. There was bound to be one who would love her. Yvette just nodded silently. The buzzing in her ears drowned out Viola's comforting voice. That night, she managed to get a good night's sleep, which was rare. However, when she woke up, she was greeted with the alarming sight of blood staining the spot where her head had laid on the pillow. Yvette touched her right ear. Her fingers felt sticky. She looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. Chapter 4 Even Yvette's hearing aids were stained red. Her pupils contracted, and she quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe her ear. Then, she stripped the bedsheets and washed them. She was afraid that Viola would worry about her if she found out that her illness was worsening. So, she cleaned up the mess and found an excuse to bid goodbye to Viola. Before she left, she placed a part of her savings on the bedside table without telling Viola. Viola walked Yvette to the bus stop and waved goodbye reluctantly. … After Yvette left, Viola couldn't stop thinking about how thin the former was. Unable to just sit by, she called Lane Group. When the secretary heard that Viola was Yvette's nanny and wanted to speak to Xavier, she transferred the call to Xavier's line. It was the third day after Yvette had left Xavier. It was also the first time in three days that he had received a call about her. Sitting behind his desk, he felt exceptionally pleased. Just as he had expected, Yvette wouldn't be able to last more than three days without him—or so he thought. Viola's voice came through the other line, sounding weighed with age. "Mr. Lane, I am Yvvy's nanny. I've been taking care of her since she was a baby. "Please, I beg you, treat her well. Don't hurt her more than you already have. She's not as strong as she seems on the surface. "When she was born, Mrs. Snyder left her in my care because she didn't like that Yvvy is hard of hearing. Yvvy only returned home when she had to start going to school. "The Snyders have never treated her as one of their own. Apart from Mr. Snyder, everyone else treated her like she was a maid. "You and Mr. Snyder are the most important people she has in this world. I'm begging you, please. Please be kind to her." Xavier's mood darkened when he heard what Viola said. "Did she tell you to give me this sob story because she didn't want to face me herself?" he asked coldly. "Why should I care about her life? If you ask me, she deserved everything she got!" That said, he hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. Viola had heard Yvette gushing about how nice Xavier was to her. So, it was only then that she realized the truth—Xavier wasn't a good man at all. He wasn't a good husband to Yvette. ... Yvette sat on the bus, heading home. Just then, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Xavier. "You said you wanted to get divorced, right? I'll see you at 10:00 am tomorrow." Yvette stared at the text blankly for a while before replying, "Okay." Just one word. It infuriated Xavier and completely ruined his mood. Unable to work anymore, he called up his friends and invited them out for drinks. Daphne was also at the club when he arrived. "I'm not going home until I'm drunk!" she declared. Tristan sat down beside Xavier. He couldn't help asking curiously, "How's Deaf Yvvy?" Xavier raised an eyebrow at him. "There's no need to talk about her ever again. We're filing for divorce tomorrow." Tristan was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears. "Really?" Beside them, Daphne brightened. She poured out a shot for him. "Congrats on getting back your freedom, Xav!" Xavier drank a lot that night. Daphne offered to send him home, but he rejected her suggestion. "No need. It's not appropriate." If he and Yvette were going to get divorced tomorrow, she might come home that night. Daphne wasn't happy about the rejection. "Why? You're divorcing her anyway. Why wouldn't it be appropriate? Are you still scared that she might find out about our relationship?" Their relationship? Xavier narrowed his eyes. "You're overthinking this." He got into his own car. Out of consideration, he also called a cab to send Daphne home. On the drive home, he kept unlocking his phone to check if Yvette had sent him any messages. She hadn't. When he reached Dewberry Estate, it was dark. With a stormy expression, Xavier opened the door and turned on the light. Yvette was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't come home. The manor was left exactly the way it had been when she had left. Still feeling the effects of the wine, Xavier threw himself heavily onto the couch and soon fell asleep. In his nightmares, Yvette was covered in blood, but there was a smile on her face. "I don't love you anymore, Xav," she said. When Xavier jolted awake, the sky outside had just brightened up. He rubbed his forehead and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up. Then, he changed into a smart suit and made his way to the courthouse. At the entrance of the courthouse, he spotted Yvette standing under a tree not far off. As usual, she was dressed in dark-colored clothes. From the distance, she looked incredibly frail and thin as she stood amid the drizzle. It was as if a single gust of wind could knock her over. Xavier could still remember how young and lively she had been when they had first gotten married. She hadn't been as thin and gloomy back then. Holding an umbrella, he walked toward Yvette. It took her a few moments to notice him. Xiaver hadn't changed much over the last three years. He was as handsome and as confident as ever, with the added hint of matureness that came with age. Yvette was a little dazed. The last three years felt like a blink in time to her, yet she also seemed to have exhausted a whole lifetime. Xavier stalked over to Yvette and gazed at her coldly. He was waiting for her to apologize to him. She had been sulking enough. It was time to put an end to this. However, Yvette just said, "I'm sorry to pull you away from your work. Let's go in." Xavier stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Don't regret this." With that, he turned and headed into the courthouse. Yvette stared after him sadly. Would she regret this? She didn't know either. In the courthouse, the judge asked them if they were sure about going through with the divorce. Yvette's answer was firm. "Yes." Her determined expression frustrated Xavier. After filing for divorce, they still had to return to the courthouse in a month. If they didn't show up, then the divorce would be considered null. As they left the courthouse, Yvette looked at Xavier, her expression unusually calm. "I'll see you next month. Take care." With that, she stepped out into the rain, hailed a cab, and left. Xavier was left standing on the spot. He didn't know how to feel as he watched her car leave. Relieved, probably. Relieved that he wouldn't need to put up with her any longer or endure others' ridicule for having a disabled wife. ... In the cab, Yvette leaned against the window and stared blankly at the rain droplets on the glass. In the rearview mirror, the driver suddenly saw blood dripping from her ear. He was shocked by the sight. "Miss? Miss!" Yvette didn't answer him. The driver hastily stopped the car. Yvette was confused. They weren't at her destination yet. Why had they stopped? She looked over at the driver and saw him mouthing silently. She realized that she had gone deaf again. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. What are you saying?" In the end, the driver had to type out what he wanted to say on his phone so that he could tell her about her bleeding ear. Yvette reached out belatedly and felt the warm sensation in her ear. She was used to it now. "It's alright. This happens all the time. I'm fine." She was hard of hearing, but her ears hadn't bled like this before. Two years ago, at a gathering, Tristan had pushed her into a swimming pool. Yvette didn't know how to swim, so she had almost drowned. At the same time, her eardrums had also expanded due to the pressure. She had been sent to the hospital, but the damage had been done. At the time, she had been told that everything was fine. Why was this happening again? The cab driver was still worried, so he dropped her off at the hospital she told him. After thanking him, Yvette went into the hospital on her own. This time, she saw her usual doctor, Tom Jensen. "Dr. Jensen, my memory has been rather bad lately. I kept forgetting what I'm doing," she said. When she had woken up at the hotel that morning, it had taken her a long time to remember that she had to file for divorce with Xavier. Tom looked at her latest report worriedly. "Ms. Snyder, I think you should consider getting tested for other things. Specifically, mental health issues." Mental health… Following Tom's recommendation, Yvette went and got a psychiatric diagnosis. She was diagnosed with depression. It turned out that patients with severe depression often experienced memory loss. Before heading back to the hotel, Yvette stopped and bought a notebook and a pen. She wrote down everything that had happened lately. She placed the notebook right beside her bed so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning. News of her and Xavier's divorce spread quickly. That night, Yara called her multiple times, but she didn't hear anything. … When she woke up the next morning, she saw a barrage of texts from Yara. "Where are you?" "Who do you think you are? Even if you're getting a divorce, Xavier should have been the one to ask for it!" "You're such a jinx! Back when you got married, your dad got into a car crash and died. What's going to happen now that you're getting divorced? Do you want Snyder Group to go bankrupt? Is that it?" Yvette stared at the messages. She was used to the verbal bully by now. She typed out a reply. "Mom, it's time that we live by our own merits. We shouldn't depend on others so much." Yara's response was swift. "You're such an ingrate! I shouldn't have given birth to you in the first place!" Yvette didn't bother replying to that. She placed her phone aside. She just had to wait a month. Once the divorce was finalized, she would be able to leave Tirion and start a new life. … Yvette's health worsened over the next few days. She often found herself completely deaf. Sometimes, it took a very long time for her hearing to go back to normal. Her memory was deteriorating too. On the bright side, even though her hearing loss was incurable, at least she could do something about the depression. She tried everything she could to keep herself happy. She busied herself by registering as a volunteer online. She spent time taking care of abandoned old people and orphans. Helping them made her feel like she had a reason to continue living. A few days later, Yvette woke up in the morning and checked her notebook as usual. Then, she got ready to head out to the orphanage. When she picked up her phone, she saw several unread messages. There were messages from Terrance and Yara, as well as Daphne. She opened the texts one by one. Yara: "As you wished, Snyder Group is no more." Terrence: "Keep hiding. You're the most cowardly and cruel person I've ever seen." Daphne: "My condolences, Yvette. Actually, I think Snyder Group would thrive better under Xav." Daphne: "Since your family has helped me so much in the past, do let me know if you need anything. I'll help you if I can." Yvette had no idea what was happening. She closed the messaging app. Almost immediately, she got a notification about the latest news. Chapter 5 Yvette watched the news and saw the press conference held by Lane Group. It was an announcement that Xavier had successfully acquired Snyder Group. James' company no longer existed in the world. … Things on Xavier's end had been extra pleasant lately. He had acquired Snyder Group and gotten his revenge. "The Snyder family finally got what they deserved for tricking you into that marriage three years ago." Tristan chuckled. Yet, he changed the topic in the next instant. He asked Xavier, "Xav, has Deaf Yvvy approached you during the past few days?" Xavier froze halfway through signing a document. He didn't know why, but people around him kept mentioning Yvette these days. "No," he replied coldly. That shocked Tristan. After all, how could Yvette not do anything when something this massive had happened to her family? With that in mind, he spoke again. "Could it be that she's finally come around? I heard her family has been looking everywhere for her. Nobody knows where she's gone—" He kept blabbering on. Xavier frowned, feeling utterly annoyed. "Get out!" Tristan jolted. That was when he realized that Xavier was furious. Not daring to say another word, Tristan bolted out of the CEO's office. Once outside, he took his phone and called his assistant, Avery Fitzpatrick. "Have you found Yvette?" "Yes, she's in a small hotel in Hexim Pass," answered Avery. Tristan had Avery send him the location before he drove there. He refused to let Yvette off the hook so easily. So what if she was willing to divorce Xavier now? She had already prevented Xavier and Daphne from being together for over three years! Besides, Daphne had saved Tristan's life once, so he owed her. It rained outside. Yvette finished her volunteer work and picked up her medication from the hospital. Then, she held an umbrella while walking back to the hotel. There were very few people on the road. Tristan drove his car but kept his eyes on Yvette's slim back. He deliberately sped up as he drove past her, sending a puddle of rainwater splashing onto her. Yvette shot him a blank stare. Tristan happened to meet her emotionless gaze through his rearview mirror. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably nervous. Yvette recognized Tristan's luxurious, dark gray Bugatti. Yet, she retracted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. Even so, Tristan refused to stop there. He deliberately slowed his car and followed her. "Hey, Deaf Yvvy. So, you have a temper now, huh? "You're not even going to greet me now? Didn't you used to love greeting me? Didn't you enjoy tickling my fancy?" Yvette remained stoic while the former mocked her. She used to do everything to win over those around Xavier, including his friends. It was all because she liked him. She had figured that Xavier's family and friends would one day accept her. Alas, it seemed she had been too naïve. At the previous gathering, Tristan had declared that he was Daphne's friend. He couldn't care less about maintaining his gentlemanly, upper-class image when siding with Daphne. He had insulted Yvette and called her shameless. In the end, he had also thrown her into the pool, leaving her to die. Since then, Yvette had steered clear of him. Upon receiving no reaction or response from Yvette, Tristan stopped the car, opened the door, and strolled toward her. He grabbed her arm and asked, "What stunts are you planning to pull this time?" Yvette's arm hurt, so she looked up at him. "I don't know what you're saying." She wanted to pry his hand off her arm, but he flung her aside. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!" Tristan bellowed. Yvette stumbled backward before falling to the ground with a loud thud. Tristan froze on the spot in slight disbelief. It baffled him to see Yvette resorting to such tricks. He had only pushed her with a slight force, so how could she fall like that? Seeing people looking their way, he nervously got back into his car. Still, he gave her a warning before driving away. "Don't mess with Daph just because you're a disabled person, Yvette! "She's different from you. It's taken her a lot of effort to get to where she is now, so you'd better not disrupt her and Xav's relationship again!" After driving away, he even told the Snyder family where Yvette was staying. Yvette's hands and knees were scraped when she fell. It hurt so much that she couldn't stand for a long time. Deep down, she didn't understand why Tristan was so blind to what was right and wrong. She recalled risking her life to rescue him from a car that had been about to explode four years ago. His face had been covered in blood, and his eyes hadn't been visible. However, he had spoken in the warmest voice. He had said, "Thank you. I promise I'll repay you someday." Yvette couldn't help but bitterly wonder if this was his way of repaying her. … Once Yvette returned to the hotel, she took a shower and applied medication to her scraped skin. Then, she lay down in a daze. The fall hardened her determination to leave Xavier for good. … The sun was shining brightly outside when Yvette woke up. She got up and headed to the living area, only to see Yara sitting on the couch, wearing a formal dress. Yara didn't seem to care one bit that Yvette had just woken up. She picked the document off the coffee table and handed it to the latter. "Take a good look at this. It's the backup plan I've selected for you." Yvette accepted the document but saw the title "prenuptial agreement" on the cover. She flipped through the pages while reading the contents aloud. "Ms. Yvette Snyder will marry Mr. Liam Lorimer. As his wife, she'll devote herself to him and look after him until the end of his life. Liam will look after Yvette's family, which includes maintaining their quality of life. He'll also provide 300 million as funds for the Snyder family." Following that, the document stated Liam's details. He was an entrepreneur from the older generation in Tirion. He was 78 years old that year. Yvette's mind tensed. At that moment, Yara spoke up again. "Mr. Lorimer has expressed that he doesn't mind that you were married before. "He'll help revive our family's reputation from the ashes, as long as you marry him. Come on, dearest. You wouldn't let me and Terrence down, right?" Yvette's face paled even more. "I can't agree to what you're asking of me." Yara had never imagined that Yvette would reject her so candidly. She blew up in a fit of rage at once. "What right do you have to refuse? I gave you life!" Hearing that, Yvette met Yara's gaze. "How about I return my life to you? Would that mean I no longer owe you?" "What did you say?" Yara shrilled. Yvette's pale lips moved as she said, "If I returned my life to you, would it mean you'd no longer be my mother? And I'll no longer be indebted to you for giving birth to me?" Yara sneered, not believing Yvette would dare do such a thing. "Okay, then. I won't force you to marry Mr. Lorimer if you give your life back to me. But the question is, do you have the guts to do it?" "Give me a month." Yvette seemed determined. In Yara's eyes, Yvette seemed like a crazed person. She warned, "You'd best not threaten me by only saying you'll end your life. We're not that close, so I don't care if you die. However, you must sign this document if you're too afraid to end your life." … Yvette had suppressed all her emotions to the brim and needed to vent somewhere. So, she went to a bar. She sat in a corner, drinking and watching the crowd happily dance in a daze. That was when a dashing man with striking eyes noticed Yvette, who was all alone. He approached and asked, "Yvette?" Yvette stared at the man but didn't recognize him. Still dazed, she asked, "Do you know how one can achieve happiness?" The man was confused. "What did you say?" Yvette continued drinking as she spoke. "The doctor says I'm ill and should try to be happier, but I can't make myself feel happy…" That sparked discomfort in the man, Claude Lander. He wondered if Yvette had forgotten about him. Also, he was confused by what she said—something about being ill and needing to be happier. "You shouldn't be in a place like this if you want to be happy. Why don't I drive you home?" Claude spoke in a gentle tone. A smile curved across Yvette's face as she looked at him. "You're a good person." Complex emotions stirred in Claude when he saw her bitter smile. He wondered what she had been through these past few years. Why did she seem so sorrowful? Meanwhile, Xavier was also at the bar. After settling the divorce papers, he had let himself loose every night. On top of that, he hadn't returned to Dewberry Estate in a long time. It was getting late. When the crowd was about to leave, Daphne noticed a familiar figure in a corner of the bar. She exclaimed, "Isn't that Yvvy?" Xavier glanced in the direction Daphne was staring in and saw a man merrily chatting with Yvette. His expression soured at once. He was disappointed in Yvette for getting drunk at a bar and chatting up another man. He felt like he had thought too highly of her before. "Should we go and check up on her, Xav?" asked Daphne. "No," was all Xavier said before speedily leaving. On the other hand, Yvette declined Claude's offer. "There's no need to trouble yourself. I can go home on my own." Claude was still worried about Yvette, so he ran after her when he noticed her leaving the bar. "Do you really not remember me?" Yvette gazed at him but couldn't recall who he was. "It's Chubbs. Have you forgotten?" Claude reminded her. Only then did Yvette remember her friend, Chubbs, whom she met when she had been living with Viola in the countryside. Back then, Claude had been chubbier and nowhere near Yvette's height. Yet, his six-foot-two-inch frame now towered over her. He had even grown to have handsome features. "I remember now! You've changed so much. I didn't even recognize you!" said Yvette. Meeting an old friend away from home was a pleasant thing. But only a slight smile curved on Yvette's face. That upset Claude. "Come on. I'll drive you home," Claude stated. When he dropped her off, he was shocked to learn she lived in a run-down hotel. Yvette shifted in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's not a glamorous place. Please don't tell Viola I'm living in such a place. I don't want her to worry." Claude nodded. Since it was getting late, it was unwise for him to stay longer. So, he left after telling Yvette he would visit her the next day. He didn't notice the matte black car lingering in a dark area beneath the hotel as he walked out. Now that Claude had left, Yvette felt dizzy and had an upset stomach from drinking too much. That was when someone knocked hard on the door. Yvette had just opened the door when Xavier grabbed her wrist. He exerted so much strength on her slender wrist that it felt close to snapping in half. "You've made me look at you in a new light, Yvette!" Xavier snarled while shutting and locking the door. He then forcefully led her to the couch. He sneered with words as sharp and lethal as a blade, "So, you've already settled on which family you'll marry into next, huh? I knew you wouldn't be so willing to let me go for no reason!" Yvette didn't know why he had come over, nor did she know how he had seen Claude. She was only briefly dazed. Once she snapped out of it, she shot a furious look at Xavier and didn't bother explaining herself to him. The rims of her eyes reddened. "You and I aren't that different from each other." The Snyder family had tricked Xavier into marrying Yvette. However, Xavier had treated her coldly for three years while remaining entangled with his first love. Neither Xavier nor Yvette was a better person than the other. Xavier had also drunk some wine, so he reeked of it. Eyes reddening, he pinched Yvette's chin and spoke with a dangerously low voice. "Who is he? When did you guys meet?" That was the first time Yvette had seen him behave like this. She suddenly chuckled. "Are you jealous?" Xavier's gaze grew tense as he scoffed. "You're unworthy of such a reaction." Yvette became choked up. That was when Xavier leaned in domineeringly and continued interrogating her. "Has he already touched you? Huh?" In her three years of marriage, Yvette had given up on her work and declined to meet her friends whenever they had occasionally invited her out. She had done so to obey the Lane family's rules. But now Xavier was suspicious of her. Relief washed over Yvette just then. She questioned him back, "What do you think?" That utterly angered Xavier, and his heated hands started travelling down her body. | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 811 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457023493_8130919900276575_3500800934228782898_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=p40Zou8ympYQ7kNvgH0i6UO&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsK4Gykzg9ebCdE0oiCcjYW&oh=00_AYD6jAWHHV5Nwd0eBGqk5aaVp9Vx5MClmoZSZEvdzx7xAw&oe=670A6BDB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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