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Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,548,239	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547556}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:48	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	“Where the f-k is she?” I hear the Beta scream. Oh no, my ex-mate Beta Kyle is looking for me and trying to torture me again. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. It hurts more than usual but still, I don't make sound. Years of experience has taught me to do so. “Alpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were askedd.” Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” I don’t answer and keep my eyes low. I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the back as he shoves me towards the office. ”Useless f-king Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against the door, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought I could finally escape when I turned eighteen, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of drink. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasn’t sure how much more my body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldn’t scent him. I knew why I hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the heck are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscle too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like shit?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “Neah was responsible for our parents' death.” Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. “Responsible how?” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. “She served them Wolfsbane.” Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesn’t squeeze. “You poisoned your parents?” “I was six.” I splutter. “I just made them lemonade.” My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. “Hardly seems fair to blame a six year old.” “A six year old should know the difference between plants.” Alpha Trey snaps “Sounds to me like she was set up.” Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. “You weren’t there, Alpha Dane.” My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. “I didn’t ask you here to talk about my slave!” Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alpha’s he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alpha’s, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. “You’re right and now I have a few things to mull over.” “I thought we agreed.” My brother exclaims. “Nothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.” The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. “What the f-k did you say to him?” My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. “N..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.” “Did you tell him?” Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. “WELL?” My brother yells when I don’t immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. “But I didn’t say it was you.” I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. “If you have ruined this, you won’t see daylight again.” He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. “Please….” I beg. “He was an Alpha…I… I had to answer him.” My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull. “Alpha Dane, I thought you had left.” Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. “I said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?” “As I said,” my brother holds his ground, “She is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves.” “You should keep your nose out of other packs' business!” Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. “If I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?” “We don’t….” “Really?” He cocks a brow, “You really expect me to believe that you would have just let her sleep? I have already stopped you from hitting her once. " My brother and Beta Kyle fell silent. I peer through slits to see his crimson eyes on me. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. “I have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey.” Alpha Dane is smirking at my brother. “We have already agreed on terms.” “Well, I’m adding one. And if you don’t agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you don’t want that.” “I take it that your new terms have something to do with her?” Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. “You would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal.” Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? “Deal.” Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesn’t take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. “I will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow.” He reaches a hand out and cups my face, “Ensure you have everything packed.” He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. “If I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about.” He struts out, slamming the door behind him. Seeing Alpha Dane walking out of the door, my brother immediately grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to lead a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the cruellest man in the world, he has killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what will happen to you!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,762	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&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/t39.35426-6/464300486_441900775589412_3913007690285088857_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=3NTJXfI_nf0Q7kNvgGceweR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYD7eNWqO58WF4S-MLuKb8687WBPimoO_N7HdVvOqsrJ7w&oe=674DAF67	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,547,685	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547634}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:43	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Liesel Sharp had just unlocked her phone while waiting for her IV drip to be done when she received a message from her best friend, Chelsea Walden. "Jacob's back." She faltered. She and Jacob Ford had barely spoken throughout their month-long cold war, so she had no idea he was back. Soon, she received another message. "He's brought a young woman back with him." A photo had been sent with the message. The young woman in the photo resembled Liesel a little—she was Natalie Sharp, Liesel's younger half-sister. She'd been raised in the countryside. Chelsea continued, "The Sharp family is throwing them a welcome-back party. Do you want to crash it, Lili?" She knew what Liesel was like. Liesel would give Jacob a taste of his own medicine if he dared to do anything to her. There was even a chance she would set the Sharp residence on fire. Liesel checked her IV bag. She'd had a high fever for three days now, and the back of her hand was swollen from the constant IV drips she'd been on. She wasn't in the mood for that nonsense. "No," she replied. Then, she shut her eyes to get some rest. It was close to 10:00 pm when she took a cab back to Viewpoint Residences. The fever had taken its toll on her, so she soon drifted into a restless sleep. Jacob returned at some point, which woke her up. "Did I wake you?" he asked while rolling up the sleeves of his ironed shirt. The dim light made his skin glow, adding a hint of iciness to his already cold demeanor. He looked down at her with an indifferent gaze. His voice was as alluring as always, though. "No." Liesel's voice was a little nasal because she'd just woken up. She explained lazily, "I wasn't sleeping too soundly after taking my meds." He frowned slightly. "Are you sick?" She chuckled softly. She'd been sick for a while now and had mentioned it in her texts to him when admitting defeat. Yet he looked like he'd only just noticed. She poured two glasses of water and handed one to him. "How are things at Norton City? I heard from Brook that there seemed to be some trouble with it. You—" Her throat felt dry and uncomfortable; she wasn't in the mood to chat. Still, someone had to back down—it had been nearly two months since they'd seen each other. However, Jacob cut her off. "Let's divorce." She stared at him and almost lost her grip on her glass. Her throat seemed to hurt more now. He didn't explain himself. All he said was, "You can ask for whatever you want. I won't shortchange you." Liesel's heart clenched, but she soon regained her composure. "We can discuss this if this is because you left to pick Natalie up two months ago." "It's not." He looked at her, his gaze aloof. "This is a loveless marriage, Liesel. There's no point in keeping it going." It was true that the marriage alliance between the Ford and Sharp families had never been the one Jacob had hoped for. Liesel was the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, but he'd never wanted to marry her. Their accidental encounter that night was the only thing that had made him choose to take responsibility for her. Liesel lowered her eyes and said slowly, "Alright. All I want is the house at Northview Garden, and I won't quit my job after the divorce." Her mother, Heather Mallone, had left the house for her. For whatever reason, it had ended up in the Ford family's hands and become one of her wedding gifts. As for her career, she'd worked hard and built a network within Ford Corporation. She couldn't allow the divorce to wipe her efforts away. Jacob didn't object. He looked at her and said, "Okay. Anything else?" "No." Liesel shook her head. "If it bothers you, I can move out tomorrow." He seemed surprised by how accommodating she was. He cautioned her calmly, "Make sure you've thought this through, Liesel. I don't want there to be anything between us after the divorce." "Don't worry about that." She smiled. He seemed to want to say something else, but his phone rang. He answered it and hung up shortly after. Then, he said, "I have something else to do. I'll get a lawyer to talk to you about the divorce." Soon after he left, Liesel saw a trending topic on him and Natalie showing up together somewhere. In hindsight, fate was such a twisted thing. Back then, Heather could not tolerate even the slightest flaw in her marriage. After learning about Natalie's existence, she forced her husband, Jeffrey Sharp, to send Natalie to the countryside so she could grow up there. Less than two years after Heather's death, Jeffrey had remarried, turning Liesel into a joke. Natalie had also been brought back from the countryside. Fate loved playing jokes on everyone—no one would've expected Natalie to be the one who held Jacob's heart. … Liesel only woke up the following noon. Her cold was much better now. A lawyer brought her the divorce agreement, making sure to go through the allocation of assets. Jacob truly hadn't shortchanged her. Aside from the house at Northview Garden, he'd also given her some other real estate. The lawyer said, "Sign here if you don't have any objection to the clauses, Ms. Sharp." Liesel nodded and signed the agreement without hesitation. The divorce would take some more time to finalize, though. Jacob was busy, so Liesel didn't get to see him at all. She reminded the lawyer, "Please tell Mr. Ford to expedite the finalization of the divorce if he's not too busy. Dragging this out won't do any of us favors." After settling the divorce, Liesel moved out of her and Jacob's marital home. Chelsea heard about this and invited her out for coffee. "You know about Natalie, right? She studied hard in the countryside after being banished by your mother and later got into a good university. Jacob ran into her at Alden University when he went there to give a talk." Chelsea snorted. She continued, "I heard Natalie was really in awe of him; it helped that she was so hardworking and optimistic. Your father was desperate to matchmake them, you know. But here's the question—why would someone as wonderful as her not realize what a contemptible move it is to ruin someone's marriage?" Chelsea had always been defensive of people she counted as her own, and she scorned those who knowingly got involved with people who had significant others. The fact that Natalie was an illegitimate child only made Chelsea despise her more. Liesel looked unfazed, though. "It's all in the past now. Jacob and I are already divorced, so she's not really ruining the marriage." She chuckled. She had mixed feelings about the whole thing. "Besides, it's not like Jacob and I ever had feelings for each other." She lowered her gaze and suddenly remembered the first time she and Jacob had met. The year Heather had died, she'd caused one of Jeffrey's business deals to fall through. She'd been overjoyed and had dragged Chelsea out for a celebration. After the celebration, she'd refused to let go of a handsome man she'd latched onto. They'd both had too much to drink and had ended up in bed. It was only later that she'd learned he was Jacob Ford, her fiancé. Rumor had it that he'd never wanted to marry her, but he'd looked at her the following morning and said, "I'm willing to take responsibility for this, Liesel. What about you?" He'd proposed marriage. Liesel had looked at him, and a rare moment of rashness had taken over her. She'd said, "Let's do it." To tell the truth, there wasn't anything bad about Jacob. He didn't love her but had never played the field or slept around with other women. He was also calm and level-headed, considerate and gentle. She didn't even have any complaints about their adventures in bed. But things had changed after he'd run into Natalie at Alden University two months ago. Chelsea looked at Liesel while feeling bitter. The latter hadn't said anything, but Chelsea knew how she felt. Judging from Liesel's personality, there was no way she would've settled for Jacob for so long if she didn't have feelings for him. "Maybe you should go back to Shifter Corporation, Lili. Why continue suffering at Ford Corporation? I feel nauseous at the thought of those two pieces of trash being there." Liesel had always been prideful and stubborn. After Heather's death, she'd used whatever she'd inherited to set up Shifter Corporation, wanting to compete with the Sharp family's company. However, she'd left it in the hands of Heather's friend, Jonathan Shifter. The outside world only knew it as Jonathan's company. "Marriage is marriage, and work is work," Liesel said. "I'm not going to give up on my career over a failed marriage." That was what she thought—it was also what Jacob had promised her. But when she headed to work the next day, she discovered she'd been transferred from her position as his secretary to the project department manager. Chapter 2 Liesel had taken a week of sick leave. She'd only learned about the transfer when returning to work. A colleague gossiped with her, sounding pointed as they said, "I bet you still don't know this, Ms. Sharp. We have a new secretary whose last name is also Sharp. It looks like there's something special about her." Liesel didn't expect to hear that. Had Jacob actually given Natalie a job by his side? Soon, Jacob summoned Liesel to the CEO's office. When she entered and stood before him, he looked at her indifferently. "Since you want to stay at the company, continuing to hold the position of my personal secretary isn't appropriate. "The project department manager was transferred to a branch company, leaving a vacancy there. The timing is just right." Liesel knew very well that Jacob had always been clear-headed. He would never allow her to cause Natalie any discomfort or disappointment. Rather than saying the transfer was his recognition of Liesel's abilities, it would be more accurate to say he merely didn't want Natalie to misunderstand. "Okay," Liesel said. He frowned slightly and said, "Natalie hasn't seen much of the world since she's just graduated. You should give her more guidance." Liesel didn't say no. Setting everything else aside, she did need to hand over the work she had in hand—it was her responsibility as an employee. She headed downstairs, running into Natalie on her way. The latter was a rookie and a greenhorn, so some of the veterans had tricked her into buying them over a dozen cups of coffee. She hurried around with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, looking obedient yet silly. She faltered when she saw Liesel. "Lie—" She seemed to think of something and stuck out her tongue. "Ms. Liesel." Liesel frowned at her and said, "You're here as Mr. Ford's secretary, not to run errands. Set the coffee aside and come with me." Natalie paled. Still, she did as told and followed Liesel. Everyone else in the department settled down. Liesel had no intention of picking on Natalie. After all, banishing the latter to the countryside again wouldn't bring Heather back to life. Besides, before her death, Heather had already lost interest in being mad at the Sharp family. "These are the most recently saved files. This is a list of things to pay attention to when working with Mr. Ford, and this is his latest schedule," Liesel said. "Avoid wearing too many accessories during work unless necessary for a gathering or business meeting. "As a secretary, what's more important is your ability to think on your feet and react to whatever that's happened." Natalie blinked as a light blush spread across her cheeks. "Is this one not allowed, too? Mr. Ford gave this to me, and I quite like it. Can't I wear it?" Liesel's gaze flitted past the necklace she wore. It took her aback for a split second. She'd like that particular necklace for some time. Once, Jacob had nonchalantly asked her, "Do all little ladies like accessories like that?" It turned out he was getting it for Natalie. "That's up to you." Liesel lowered her gaze to conceal the emotions in her eyes. Her tone remained calm as she continued, "It's fine as long as it doesn't affect your work." Natalie smiled sweetly without saying anything else. Liesel showed her the ropes and gave her a run-through of the overall workflow. When she was done, Natalie said, "I get the feeling that you don't really like me, Liesel. Is it because of Mr. Ford?" Liesel looked at her. She didn't avert her gaze. Instead, she just smiled and continued, "It's hard to tell who's wrong and right when it comes to matters of the heart—it was the same with my mother and our father. Whatever it is, I still want to be friends with you…" "Natalie." Liesel stopped her there. "Morals and ethics still bind all matters of the heart. You wouldn't have been banished to the countryside if not for that. Do only what you must, and stop thinking everyone around you is a fool." Jeffrey had had an affair, which led to Natalie's birth. Even if Heather was already dead, Liesel didn't think she could shamelessly forgive Natalie's mother on Heather's behalf, let alone allow Natalie to do the forgiving. What right did Natalie have to talk about right or wrong? Liesel turned and left. She returned to her office and texted Jacob. "Do you have time to get the divorce settled today, Mr. Ford? Let's get that divorce certificate." He didn't stand her up. They met at the courthouse at 2:00 pm. Liesel signed whatever papers she needed to and looked at him. "It's all ready. Your turn to sign." She hadn't had time to change her outfit before leaving the office, so she still wore a professional-looking women's suit. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, which framed her aloof yet delicate face. She looked beautiful. Jacob watched her for a while before looking away. "You seem to be in quite a rush." "Hmm? No, I'm not," Liesel answered after a beat. "We've already signed the papers. There's no point in dragging this out." He didn't say anything else and quickly signed. After they got their divorce certificates and left the courthouse, Jacob looked at her. "All better now?" "Yep." She nodded. She was about to leave when he got in his car and rolled down the window. "I'll drop you back." Liesel hesitated. She was about to turn him down when a wave of nausea washed over her, making her retch. When she returned to her senses, she saw Jacob watching her with narrowed eyes. "Are you conceived?" Her heart sank. It had been a month since they'd last slept. He'd been rather rough that night and hadn't used any protection. But things couldn't be that coincidental, right? Could she have gotten conceived from that one time? She clenched her fists. "I can't be." He was about to say something else when his phone rang. He answered it. When he hung up, his brows were furrowed. "I have work to do." He looked at her pointedly. "We can't have children, Liesel. I hope this is just a coincidence." Liesel's heart clenched, but she didn't say anything. Throughout her and Jacob's three-year marriage, they'd always been careful with preventive measures. That time a month ago was the only time neither of them had done anything. But how could she have conceived so easily? She pushed the thought out of her mind and took a cab back to the company. When she arrived, she noticed the tension in the air. A colleague leaned close to her and whispered in trepidation, "There's been a problem with the products from Hardin Group. That new secretary signed the papers during the handover without checking the stock properly." Liesel frowned. She'd deliberately reminded Natalie to check everything before signing for them. It didn't help that Hardin Group was more cunning than others. This wasn't their first time trying to pull something like this. Shortly after, her assistant came and said, "Mr. Ford wants to see you, Ms. Sharp." Liesel pushed open the door to Jacob's office. Natalie stood inside. Her nose was red, and she was biting her lip. She looked pitiful yet adorable. Her words made Liesel frown, though. "I'm sorry, Jake. I had no idea I needed to check everything when accepting the stock. Ms. Liesel did tell me to check the items but didn't caution me that Hardin Group would be so cunning. It's all my fault…" Jacob looked at Liesel coldly. "Nat's just graduated, so she knows nothing about these things. You know very well what Hardin Group is capable of. Why didn't you give her a heads-up?" Chapter 3 Liesel's heart twinged slightly, but she said calmly, "I reminded Ms. Natalie about the stock handover. The office has surveillance cameras. You can check the footage if you don't believe me, Mr. Ford." Natalie paled. Tears welled in her eyes, and she said pitifully, "I-I probably didn't hear you because my mind wandered. That's why I made such a mistake." Liesel ignored her. "We can't let Hardin Group manipulate us for stocks worth millions. I'll handle this, but the company also has rules to uphold. Natalie will need to be reprimanded accordingly." She turned and left the office to check on the stocks. Now that they'd already been accepted, from a legal perspective, Ford Corporation had no choice but to swallow its woes and live with the situation. Still, there was hope for this. Uriah Hardin, the third son of the Hardin family, managed Hardin Group. However, his brother, Elijah Hardin, was the second son and favored by his family. He also wanted to usurp Uriah's position. If she could turn this matter into a power play, she could turn the tables on Hardin Group. At 8:00 pm, Liesel and Elijah met at a restaurant. His roguish, flippant look landed on her. "Have you invited the wrong man, Ms. Sharp? I'm not the one who calls the shots at Hardin Group, nor am I interested in you." Liesel was beautiful but too boring in his eyes. He liked his women obedient and gentle. They were cuter that way. Liesel ignored his words and placed a document before him. "These are some of the tracks Mr. Uriah has left in the industry over the years, Mr. Elijah. I won't beat around the bush—I don't believe you're uninterested in Hardin Group. Take him down, and this deal with Ford Corporation will be yours." The flippant look in Elijah's eyes faded away. He narrowed his eyes and appraised her with interest. His mother wasn't his father, Richard Hardin's first wife, and Richard favored Uriah over him. But was there anyone in the Hardin family who didn't want to have something to do with the company? After a long silence, he drawled, "What's in it for you if I take him down?" "I need you to switch out the subpar products Hardin Group has just supplied to Ford Corporation. Cooperating with you is also good for us because you don't pull dirty tricks." Liesel didn't mind pulling a few tricks when doing business, but Uriah's methods were too lowbrow. She was scornful of him. Elijah looked at her. Then, he raised his glass and said meaningfully, "I hope things will work out the way you wish, Ms. Sharp." A few tables away, Jacob's assistant, Jesse Lane, noticed Liesel. In a low voice, he told Jacob, "Ms. Sharp is here, too, Mr. Ford." Jacob followed his line of sight and frowned slightly. Elijah had a reputation for being a dandy—what was Liesel doing with him? Liesel didn't notice Jacob. She and Elijah soon ended their discussion; Jesse approached her then. He said, "Mr. Ford is waiting for you, Ms. Sharp." Elijah glanced at him before turning back to Liesel. "You should consider joining Hardin Group if you ever get sick of being at Ford Corporation, Ms. Sharp. We always know a good thing when we see it." A woman with nothing but good looks would quickly become boring, but she would be a valuable resource if she were beautiful and brainy. Liesel didn't respond to Elijah's words. Instead, she politely bid him farewell before following Jesse to Jacob's car. It was 11:00 pm, and the night breeze was rather chilly. Liesel's lips were a little pale as she got into the car. She lowered her eyes, and her wrists were briefly exposed underneath her suit jacket. It made her seem rather weak and pitiful. Jacob frowned. He'd never noticed her being this skinny. "Have you settled the problem with Hardin Group?" She nodded, looking tired. "Yeah. Elijah is harder to deal with than Uriah, but he's already agreed to switch out the subpar products. We'll just need to send someone to handle the handover." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "Natalie is young and naive. You can't completely blame her for this." Liesel paused before saying softly, "You're Ford Corporation's CEO. It's up to you how you want to handle her." Natalie was young, huh? She'd been even younger than Natalie when joining Ford Corporation, but Jacob had never cut her any slack. "I've yet to tell Grandpa about the divorce," he said, switching the subject. Vincent Ford had been recuperating at home these past years and couldn't be aggravated. Even if Liesel and Jacob had never been the most loving couple, Vincent probably still couldn't handle the news of their divorce. Liesel looked down. "Got it. I'll tell him about this when the time is right." Jacob didn't say anything else. Liesel had had a bit to drink without eating anything. After a while, she curled up in her seat and drifted off. Her face was pale. When Jacob noticed something was wrong with her, he frowned. He was about to instruct Jesse to take them to the hospital when she woke up. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse. He said, "I'm taking you to the hospital." Liesel's heart skipped a beat as she thought of something. However, she kept her tone nonchalant and said, "There's no need for that. My stomach just feels a little upset. I'll be fine after resting at home." Jacob looked at her. His gaze was deep and sharp. It was as if he could read her thoughts. After a while, he said, "Fine." She relaxed. Back home, she called Chelsea and said a little grimly, "Buy me a test." … The following day, Liesel was supposed to attend a welcome-back party for Alex Stone, one of her and Jacob's mutual friends. Alex had called her before his return to invite her to the party. Perhaps it was because he'd heard about the divorce and wanted to help them reconcile. The party was already in full swing when Liesel arrived. She heard Alex's voice through the door. "Have you and Liesel really divorced? Was it because of Natalie?" Liesel faltered, her hand on the doorknob. After a pause, Jacob said, "It has nothing to do with Natalie. Liesel and I aren't a good match." "Tsk. How are you two not a good match?" Alex asked. "I think Liesel is fantastic. She's pretty, intelligent, and has won many people's recognition at Ford Corporation. Why are you so obsessed with Natalie? Don't forget that Liesel saved you in the past. Sometimes, some things are just too little, too late." He'd met Natalie before and could tell she was nothing but a young woman with a few tricks up her sleeve. She couldn't compare to Liesel. Liesel had managed to save Jacob from the hands of his abductors. How could someone like Natalie compare to her bravery and determination? Jacob would have much to regret if he and Liesel really were to divorce. This time, Jacob remained silent for a longer time. Then he said, "You can't force matters of the heart." Liesel lowered her eyes and slowly clenched her fists. Alex stopped trying to change Jacob's mind. Instead, he said, "You'd better think this through. You may not like her, but plenty of others do." Liesel didn't linger. She texted Alex on WhatsApp and told him she wasn't attending the party because she had to attend to something else. Then, she asked Chelsea out. Chelsea gave her the test and asked hesitantly, "You're not really conceived, are you, Lili?" Chapter 4 Liesel held the test tightly. "I'm not sure yet." Her period had yet to come this month, and the retching from before… She suspected something was up. "What are you going to do if you are?" Chelsea looked at her hesitantly. "Will Jacob accept it?" Liesel dropped her gaze. Jacob would never want a child she'd brought into the world. Besides, they were already divorced—it was bad for them both if she were to keep the child… even if it was one she'd longed for in the past. After a long silence, she said, "No, he won't. There's no point in keeping lingering attachments or forcing someone to do something against their will. If I'm conceived, I'll lose the baby." She'd waited for a baby that hadn't come over the past three years. Now, it was long past the time for that. Liesel was in a bad mood, so she didn't do the test on the spot. Instead, she and Chelsea had some drinks. Well, she only had a sip or two of a drink with the lowest possible wine content. She only remembered the test when she arrived at the company the following day. She headed to the bathroom and did the test. Then, she was dumbstruck when she saw the two lines on it. She was conceived… with Jacob's child. Her face turned pale. Just then, someone entered the bathroom. In her panic, she threw the test into the trashcan and clenched her fists. Was she really going to lose her and Jacob's child? A pang of pain swept past her heart. Liesel was in a meeting but she was distracted. When it was over, a colleague leaned close to her, looking excited to share gossip. "Did you hear, Ms. Sharp? Someone from our department is conceived." The competition within Ford Corporation had always been intense, and carrying a baby was something that would easily affect one's career and ascension up the ladder. The colleague couldn't help saying gleefully, "I wonder who it is. They're being hush-hush about this, aren't they?" Liesel's heart skipped a beat. She looked up and happened to meet Jacob's cool, calm gaze. He said, "Come to my office, Ms. Sharp." She clenched her fists. When she entered Jacob's office, he said, "I'll have Jesse take you for an examination in a couple of days." Her heart stuttered, and she blurted out, "It's not me." "This is just to be safe. I'm sure you don't want any trouble to arise from this." Liesel couldn't stop him. She could only suppress her panic and say, "Okay." Natalie came her way when she left the office. The former bit her lip and said uneasily, "What happened last time was a misunderstanding, Ms. Liesel. You won't get mad at me for that, will you? I had no idea Hardin Group would pull such a dirty trick and try to stuff subpar products on us!" "That's none of my business," Liesel said indifferently. "The company has its system for rewards and punishments. You'll have to bear the consequences of your mistakes. It's as simple as that." She had nothing much to say to Natalie. Setting aside their relationship, she'd always drawn a clear line between her professional and private lives. There was no need to drag personal grudges into work. Natalie sighed in relief. "It's Dad's birthday next week, Liesel. He hasn't seen you for so long. How about you come home so we can celebrate as a family?" Jeffrey's birthday was a week after Heather's death anniversary. Liesel looked at Natalie and said, "I'm not in the mood to scheme and play mind games with you, Natalie. "If you're not a complete idiot, you'll understand what I mean when I say your father's birthday isn't a good day for me and my mother." Natalie faltered. Then, her face turned red, and she said, "I know it's only a week after Heather's death anniversary, but you can't revive the dead. We still have to celebrate Dad's birthday since he's alive, right? "I've never blamed Heather for banishing me to the countryside, so why do you have to keep holding a grudge against Dad?" "You know very well why my mother sent you to the countryside," Liesel said icily. "If I were to forgive the person who'd caused her death and even celebrate his birthday, it wouldn't prove that I'm generous enough to bury the hatchet. It would just show that I'm heartless." Natalie blanched. Her eyes turned red as tears welled in them. "I didn't mean anything else by this, Liesel. I just—" "I don't care what you meant," Liesel interrupted. "When at work, we're nothing more than colleagues. You should focus on your work, Ms. Natalie." She turned and left, not wanting to play mind games with Natalie. She took the afternoon off to head to the hospital. It didn't even occur to her what Natalie thought of her words. Unfortunately, it seemed Natalie was more cowardly than she'd expected. The former had been so absent-minded while walking that she'd twisted her ankle. Jacob brought her to the hospital. "Congratulations. You're six weeks conceived." Liesel happened to run into Jacob, who was holding Natalie up, when she was leaving the hospital with her report. The doctor's words reverberated in her mind. "Your body cannot handle the surgery, Ms. Sharp. If you proceed with it, you might not be able to conceive in the future. I'd advise you to think this through." Liesel felt bitter. She was conceived with Jacob's child, which was something to be happy and expectant about. But would he allow her to keep it? Jacob noticed the look on her face while Natalie hesitantly called out to her. "Lie—Ms. Liesel." Jacob's gaze flitted past her. "What are you doing here?" She hid her report behind her and said softly, "I came for a follow-up check because my cold isn't completely gone yet." He narrowed his eyes at her. Natalie seemed to notice something and tugged his sleeve. She looked a little glum. "You should have something to discuss with Ms. Sharp, Mr. Ford. I'll head back first." Jacob frowned but didn't make her stay. "I'll have someone take you back." She nodded obediently. Liesel sighed in relief and stuffed the report into her bag. When she and Jacob were in his car, he glanced at her. "Are you that nervous to be around me? The more you act like this, the more I'll think you're conceived." She subconsciously wanted to deny it but forced herself to smile. She asked, "What will you do if I really am conceived, then?" "Make you lose it," he said without hesitation as he looked her in the eye. She knew it. A pang of pain swept past her heart, and she shook her head as she said bitterly, "It's just a cold." Jacob scrutinized her for a while before saying, "I heard you and Nat got into a small fight today, leading to her twisting her ankle while heading downstairs. "She's young and naive but is kind. She also doesn't get into arguments with others that easily. You should be nicer to her and be more accommodating if anything happens in the future." Liesel's bitterness bubbled up in her. No one in this world could avoid being more favorable to certain people. She said, "She's not a child, Mr. Ford. There's nothing for me to accommodate." Chapter 5 Liesel looked at Jacob. Her tone was calm as she said, "I don't owe Natalie anything, nor do I owe you. Work-wise, I'm only her senior. Regarding my personal life, my mother didn't owe her anything. "Natalie came knocking on our door when her mother chose to marry another. No woman can accept her husband's illegitimate daughter. She might have had Natalie sent to the countryside, but Natalie was also given more than enough money to survive there. "I don't owe her, whether professionally or personally. Why should I be more accommodating and tolerant of her? Why should I back down when facing off against her?" When she finished her speech, silence descended upon the car. Jacob looked at her. She wore a simple dress that clung to her curves, and her delicate features were arranged into her usual mask of aloofness. There was something cold and tenacious about her. She was so brilliant that one could almost neglect her beauty. His gaze flitted over her eyes. After a moment of silence, he said gently, "I'm sorry. I didn't handle this matter appropriately." Liesel didn't say anything. He looked her in the eye and said, "I shouldn't have made you suppress yourself and back down for Natalie's sake. You're a wonderful woman, Liesel. Even though we're divorced now, I still hope you'll live your own life." She clenched her fists and tried to keep her tears at bay. She couldn't deny that she really, really liked Jacob. However, certain things just couldn't be forced. … Liesel headed home. She had someone ask around about the doctor Jacob was going to arrange to examine her. Meanwhile, Chelsea was worried. "Can't you just tell him the truth? He might not be that cruel. You two were together for three years, after all." "I'd rather not." Liesel caressed her belly. She was silent for a while before saying, "Since I can't lose the child, there's no need to let Jacob know about this. We're already divorced, and this child is part of my life now. I'll need your help dealing with the doctor." Whatever it was, she couldn't let Jacob find out about the baby. Chelsea didn't object. She seemed to think of something and said, "Natalie used to intern at Shifter Corporation. Do you think it's just a coincidence, or does she know something?" This came as a surprise to Liesel. Natalie had interned at Shifter Corporation? Did she know it belonged to Liesel, or… It piqued Liesel's suspicions, but she didn't dwell on the matter. "It's probably just a coincidence. She graduated from Alden University, and Shifter Corporation does campus recruitments there, too." Chelsea had only brought it up since it had occurred to her. She smiled and said, "Mr. Shifter and Neal should be back soon, right? I'm sure you'll feel more secure with them around." Neal Shifter was Jonathan's son, and the Shifter family had been managing Shifter Corporation on Liesel's behalf all these years. Since Heather's passing, the Shifters had become like family to Liesel. She smiled, and a rare hint of relief flashed in her eyes. … The following day, news of Uriah's downfall broke out. Elijah looked like a dandy but had surprisingly ruthless methods. He'd gotten someone to leak information on the dirty tricks Uriah had pulled to the paparazzi. Coincidentally, Uriah had recently murdered someone while driving under the influence and had gotten a scapegoat to take the fall. Thanks to everything being lumped together, he was soon arrested. Elijah had proper quality stocks delivered to Ford Corporation in exchange for the subpar stocks. When Liesel went to handle the handover, he watched her with interest. "Don't you trust me, Ms. Sharp?" He raised an eyebrow and eyed the light sheen of sweat at her temples. His gaze turned pointed. She smiled and blinked at him. "I wouldn't put it that way. Better safe than sorry, right?" Her smile and rare moment of slyness made her glow. Her eyes were so bright. Elijah smirked at the sight. It looked like the rumors about her couldn't be trusted at all. She was much more interesting than those naive young women. Jacob and Natalie happened to see this. Natalie approached with a smile and said, "You and Ms. Liesel seem to get along very well, Mr. Hardin. It looks like this matter was a blessing in disguise." Her tone was light-hearted and lively, which carried a hint of a young woman's naivety and cheer. Her words made one's imagination wander, though. It was as if Liesel and Elijah were more involved than they seemed. Jacob's expression darkened when he took in the smile on Liesel's face. Then, he said coolly, "Sorry to have troubled you over this, Mr. Hardin." "Oh, it was no trouble at all." Elijah smiled meaningfully. "Nothing is considered troublesome when I have someone as gorgeous as Ms. Liesel attending to me." "Ms. Liesel has always drawn a clear line between work and pleasure. You might have gotten the wrong idea, Mr. Hardin." Jacob's gaze flitted over Liesel. Elijah's smile widened. "Drawing a clear line between work and pleasure isn't the same as being heartless. One has to be thick-skinned when pursuing a woman, right? Or are you interfering in your employee's personal life, Mr. Ford?" Jacob faltered. Then, he said, "I'll leave you to it, Mr. Hardin." He turned and left with Natalie in tow. Liesel watched them. Her gaze was aloof. However, Elijah saw the glumness deep inside. He said, "Your precious Mr. Ford isn't all that great. Why don't you consider other fish in the sea?" There was a hint of amorosity to his words. Liesel returned to her senses and chuckled. "I remember you saying that I'm not your type, Mr. Hardin. Have you changed your mind?" Elijah looked at her. If he had to be honest, she was too stubborn and inflexible for his tastes. She was indeed not his type. Yet she was pretty and intelligent enough to mask her inflexibility. "Not really." He leaned closer. "But I'll make an exception for you. You should really consider my proposal." Liesel didn't take his words to heart. She was just glad she'd managed to resolve the stock problem and prevent Ford Corporation from suffering any losses. Jacob punished Natalie by docking three months of her pay and bonuses. Then, he paid Liesel double her salary. The colleagues in Liesel's department were pleased when she returned. "I'll admit it—I can't stand those who got in here because of their connections. Anyone else would've been fired ages ago." "I know, right? She's supposed to have graduated from Alden University, yet she made such a huge mistake immediately after taking over as Mr. Ford's secretary. Even if we were to talk about looks alone, it's not like she can compare with Ms. Sharp! I wonder what Mr. Ford sees in her…" Ford Corporation was one of the biggest in the industry, so it was harder for rookies to find their footing there compared to other companies. Their situation would only be worse if they didn't have the skills to back themselves up. It wasn't appropriate for Liesel to comment on the subject, but she knew it wasn't right to pick on Natalie like that. "Stop." She could feel a headache coming on as she stopped the gossip. "She's just a young woman who's new to this. You guys should focus on your work. I'll treat everyone to a nice meal in a couple of days, okay?" Only then did the crowd zip their lips and get back to work. Liesel needed to hand a contract to Jacob now that she was done with the matter with Hardin Corporation. She headed to his office and was about to knock when she heard Natalie's voice. Inside the room, Natalie bit her lip. Her eyes were red as she said, "I'm too useless, aren't I, Jake? Everyone says I can't compare to Ms. Liesel." Jacob frowned, and a hint of displeasure flashed in his eyes. He wiped her tears and said, "What's the point of comparing yourself to her? You two aren't the same." Liesel faltered outside the door. She only pushed it open after a beat.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14615&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/t39.35426-6/465161618_1748227519283646_2470131720883063388_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LN9uhWL-ZwYQ7kNvgEyg-cI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZO84i2ldjwS4p8ttgsGnSJ&oh=00_AYCBNLI4kxFy2Kfm4KbLmA7Pwou7EDQyGtZgNCJ_jjkooQ&oe=674D8BE0	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,549,774	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549765}'	Yes	2024-11-27 20:00	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Chapter 1 "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?'	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	thebvhwysgng.com	DCO	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&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/t39.35426-6/459414065_1057201542627188_2289658013715801775_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tt5ECQrhRUAQ7kNvgEkzQUk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEkWvdYFgjksA2Dbuvkbd4S&oh=00_AYALjsLnyw5vZAj3zA2iCF_glsbC-vICxMGLU2MtjocC0Q&oe=674D988E	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,548,345	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547485}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:49	active	1932	❤️😍What happens next👉	"Xavier, are you free tonight? I have something to tell you." I mustered up the courage to text my husband, and my hands were a little wet holding the phone. Ten minutes... Half an hour... One hour... There was no reply from the other side. Just like his attitude towards me over the years, indifferent and aloof. I smiled bitterly and threw the phone on the sofa. Then I made dinner as usual and lay quietly on the sofa in the living room waiting for him. I thought he would not come back today. But at twelve o'clock in the early morning, I heard movement at the door. I immediately got up and walked forward, taking his coat and briefcase skillfully . A series of actions, just like an ordinary couple. "Don't text me casually in the future." Xavier's cold voice broke the calm of this moment. My hand hanging my coat trembled, and I murmured, "Okay, I won't do that again." He didn't hear the hidden meaning in my words, and asked me impatiently, "Don't you have something to tell me? What is it?" Even though I was already discouraged, I couldn't help but care about him. I pushed him to the dining table, "Don't worry, drink some stomach-warming soup first." Seeing him sit down steadily and take a sip of the soup, I finally felt relieved and said, "Let's get a divorce." My voice was calm, as calm as if I was talking about today's weather. His deep pupils shrink, "What did you say?" I knew he couldn't believe that I, who had loved him so humbly for so many years, was willing to divorce him. I stared at him straight, "I said let's get a divorce. I know your first love is back, and I decided to let go." "What tricks are you trying to play, Yvette Snyder? Do you want a child or money?" He asked coldly. On my wedding day, my mother and brother took away the large amount of dowry that Xavier paid, violating the terms of mutual benefit between both families. In the past few years, they often forced him to give me a child. I have never had a good image in his heart. "I don't want anything. I just want a divorce from you." I shook my head. Unexpectedly, the usually calm man angrily overturned the table in front of him. With red eyes, he grabbed my wrist fiercely and threw me on the sofa, and his head approached my neck. . .	LEARN_MORE	https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	847	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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/t39.35426-6/457270151_954156726399654_8659937070073615280_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EmmbLz08U7wQ7kNvgHq11rO&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AS76z34zUrbEUjV0Zlyt9QC&oh=00_AYBzlgQPqivw8Gtkg-_A6hvU82qWM0QlkzQ5eCMON0KXhg&oe=674D91A8	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,547,219	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547215}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:39	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&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/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EeNU2EexEKQQ7kNvgF7k9UV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AgN7mxsrt16m_YsxbLZmI58&oh=00_AYC5gRJvsjpkpTJtFjWer0UWk8U97mLZxRvG2VroD11lRA&oe=674D9E52	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,547,218	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547215}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:39	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.	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2,549,877	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549883}'	Yes	2024-11-27 20:00	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	She’s just my best friend, my husband said. What kind of friend would claim a married man as HER husband just to “get some support in a strange city”?! From the moment I met her, I should have thrown her out! But no, they told me I was “overreacting.” Overreacting?! If I really had, maybe I wouldn’t have woken up alone, only to find my husband hugging his so-called best friend in the middle of the night! Chapter 1 The beginning of it all. (ARIELLE’S POV) The scent of the dinner wafted through the room, as I focused on my husband, Jared. His dark hair falling just right, framing his straight nose and sharp jawline. Even in his casual clothes, the man had an undeniable presence—broad shoulders, a sculpted chest. He could’ve walked right out of a magazine, yet here he was, with me. It was our anniversary, and in commemoration of that, I had suggested that we had an indoor dinner– just the two of us. Despite his usual aloof self, Jared had created time from his usual busy work schedule, and that was a gesture I considered lovely. Especially when he looked up at me with those smoldering eyes, it was hard to stay upset. I had chosen to sit across from him instead of our usual dining position–beside him because I wanted to see all of his reactions when I finally broke the good news. Yep, I just discovered that I was pregnant yesterday from our family doctor, and I stalled the news, so I could break it to Jared during the anniversary dinner - Whatever way would have been better? Celebrating an anniversary, and the conception of a baby. Sounds like a double party to me. “This meal is delicious, Arielle,” Jared commented, interrupting my line of thoughts. “I don't understand why I'm always awed by your culinary skill. You are a chef after all.” I flashed him the most beautiful smile I could muster, feeling flustered by his compliment. “Thank you, Jared. That means a lot coming from you.” He smiled back, but his was not as wide and bright as mine. “You didn't have to make so many dishes, though. Two or three would have been just enough. It's only the two of us after all.” I clicked my tongue, there he went again. I was just about to reply to him, to tell him that it was our anniversary and I wanted to make it special, when his phone rang, the shrill sound disrupting the calm atmosphere. Jared's face fell when he looked at the screen, and then his expression turned apologetic. “Excuse me, Arielle. I have to take this. It’s work,” he said and rose to his feet. I felt a lump form in my throat, as I nodded in understanding, trying to mask my disappointment. “It’s fine, go on. I'll be here,” I said, my voice coming out flatter than I intended. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I'll get you new jewelry, whatever you want,” he called out as he rushed out of the dining room. I reclined back on my seat, frustrated and disappointed. It’s 9 o’clock. Who leaves their home at this time for work? It’s our special day for crying out loud, and making it up to me with jewelry? My eyes inadvertently rolled. Men need to learn that gifts are not always the key to a woman's heart; quality attention is. I sighed for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t mentioned when he’d return, as usual. Would he even remember our anniversary when he was done with work? The food once appealing, now looked unappetizing. Our anniversary dinner, ruined by a work call. I got to the sitting room to wait for Jared. Pregnancy reactions made me drowsy, and even before I knew it, I fell asleep and woke up with a start hours later. My eyes groggily opened to an eerily calm house. I was still on the couch, alone. Looking up at the clock, my heart sank. It was a few minutes past 12 o'clock. A painful realization dawned on me: our anniversary was over. Anger enveloped me as I realized that Jared wasn't home yet. I had been so excited to share my news with him, but now, that too was ruined. I walked over to the dining room, the remnants of our anniversary dinner still laid out on the table. Fine, guess this was the karma for me, a star chef, taking a two-day leave and not cooking for my appreciative guests but cooking for my husband. Sighing in resignation, I cleared the table and sent some of the food to the trash. In the early morning, I arrived at the restaurant, the familiar chaos of the kitchen greeted me like an old friend, and so did my colleagues. Their expression is a mix of concern and curiosity. “Arielle! You came so early! I thought you were taking a two-day off.” I forced a smile, still feeling the pain of my ruined anniversary dinner. The kitchen could be my refuge and cooking was my escape. Once I returned to work, my hands started to be busy in the rhythm of chopping and sizzling. Hours later, a waitress rushed into the kitchen, a distressed look on her face. “Ma, there's a customer insisting on seeing you,” she said, her voice urgent. “What's the problem?” I asked, surprised. “She wouldn't say, and she's being really rude,” the waitress responded. “She says she wants to see the chef in charge.” I hurriedly took off my apron, washed my hands, and followed the waitress out to the dining area. “Hi, I'm Arielle, the head chef,” I said, stopping in front of the customer's table. “Sorry you’re upset. Can you tell me what’s wrong with the food?” The customer, a pregnant woman, looked me up and down, her eyes blazing hot with anger. “Wrong? Everything! Your food tastes so bland,” she spat. “I can't believe you call yourself a chef.” I listened patiently, and afterward, I defended my cuisine, explaining our menu and ingredients, but she remained adamant. “I don't care about anything you say,” she snapped. “I'm going to wait for my husband to arrive and have you fired.” What? I slightly frowned and maintained my professional demeanor. “Ma'am, I assure you that our food is prepared to the highest standard and with the best ingredients. If you'd like, I can make it up to you with a complimentary dish of your choice.” The woman flipped her hair nonchalantly. “That won't be necessary. I still want you fired for almost poisoning me and my unborn child. Just wait for my husband to arrive and he will have you dealt with.” I took a deep breath, excused myself and headed back to my office. The whole thing was absurd. I’d been a chef for years and seen my share of unreasonable complaints, but this was something else. Who did she think she was and who was her almighty husband could have me fired on a whim? I was just about to get back to work when a knock sounded on my office door. “He’s here, Ma’am,” the waitress called out. I sighed. It was already a rough day, and I only hoped to wrap up this nonsense quickly. I composed myself and stepped out. Whatever power this husband of hers thought he had, I wasn’t worried. I knew my work, and I knew my worth. But as I walked back into the dining area, my breath hitched as I caught sight of a tall figure speaking to the woman. She saw me first and informed her husband, gesturing to me. And before he turned to face me fully, I already knew who the man was. A burning sensation filled my chest as I stared at the gorgeous face that I slept with most nights. It was Jared, my husband! Chapter 2 The third wheel (ARIELLE POV) Oh well, color me surprised! I blinked severally to ensure that I was not seeing wrongly. My eyes widened in shock, my mind trying to process the scene before me. My husband, Jared, was standing beside another woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be his wife, in a restaurant where I worked. The woman’s words earlier reverberated in my ears, “my husband will have you fired!” My heart pounded, breathing suddenly becoming difficult. I felt like I had just been punched in the gut. I took a step forward, my voice raspy and barely a whisper, “Jared?” Jared met my gaze, his composure unwavering. “Hey, Arielle,” his tone was disturbingly casual, as if it were completely normal to be caught with another woman who’d called him her husband. My eyes narrowed at him, as I expected him to offer me an explanation. Before Jared could respond, Sofia stepped forward, her face a mask of surprisement, “Oh, you must be Arielle! I’m so sorry for the confusion. I’m Sofia, Jared’s old friend.” Looking at my expressionless face, Sofia continued, her voice syrupy sweet, “Jared’s been so kind, helping me get settled in town. I just returned from abroad and I’m going through some tough times. He’s been such a wonderful support.” My eyes never left Jared's face, my gaze unnerving. “Support?” I asked, unable to mask the disbelief in my tone. Jared nodded. “Yes, support. She's pregnant, new in town and almost helpless. She needed someone to talk to and to help her navigate her way around town. I was just being that friend.” Still, I was not convinced, and my eyes shifted to Sofia, who stood there with an air of vulnerability, her eyes pleading for understanding. “And the child?” Jared frowned and his voice became serious, “Of course not! The child isn't mine, Arielle.” I relaxed a bit, deciding to trust my husband. Just then, Sofia cleared her throat to get my attention. “Umm… Arielle, right? I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was totally out of line, you see, being a pregnant woman in a new city alone isn’t easy. I needed some support, so I may have exaggerated Jared’s role a bit. You understand, don’t you? How do we women sometimes need to feel protected?” she said innocently. I looked away, reluctant to accept her apology. She was rude, claimed my husband as hers, and even threatened to have me fired. But Jared noticed my reluctance, and signaled me to forgive her. “It's okay, I forgive you,” I mumbled, but then my eyes caught the glint of a vibrant blue gem on her wrist. Wait a second, is that the Blue Diamond limited edition? The one I glimpsed in Jared’s bag last night? I thought it was an anniversary gift for me! Sofia was definitely aware of my stare. She turned to me, making puppy eyes. “Oh this bracelet? It’s from Jared. Arielle, surely you don't mind Jay-Jay getting his best friend a little gift for coming back home?” Jay-Jay? Seriously? I smiled coldly, my lips pressed together in a thin line. I didn't bother responding to Sofia's question, instead, I turned to Jared and said, “I need to speak with you in private, in my office.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and strode away. As I left, Sofia’s voice drifted after me, saccharine-sweet: “Jay-Jay, I had no idea your wife was this sensitive.” Jared trailed behind me, our footsteps echoing in the hallway that led to my office. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, Jared following closely behind. Alone with him now, I turned to face him, my face bearing a displeased expression. “What's going on, Jared? Why are you buying gifts for a pregnant woman, a pregnant woman who claimed to be your wife a few minutes ago.” “Arielle, I promise, it's not what it seems like. The bracelet was for you. I just…I just didn't want to hurt Sofia's feelings. Like I said, she's going through a tough time.” “And you expect me to believe that? You abandoned our anniversary dinner, promising me a compensation gift, and now I see you giving it to another woman?” Jared's face turned pleading. “Please, understand. I'll get you another one, a much better one.” I shook my head, my expression cold. “It's not always about gifts, Jared. Occasionally, your aloof nature makes me wonder if you're invested in our relationship and marriage, as much as I am.” Jared's face fell, his expression hurt. “Come on, don't talk like that. I am committed to our marriage too.” I ignored his words and went on. “It doesn't seem so most times because I don't understand why you're unwilling to hurt another woman's feelings, without caring if your actions hurt me, your wife.” Before he could respond, a thought struck me. “Jared, did you even come home last night after you left?” He nodded. “I did. You were asleep on the couch. I didn’t want to disturb you. I just left. Return to the company to continue working.” He’s really busy. I felt a stab of guilt but pushed it aside, focusing on what mattered now. “Will you be home tonight?” “Sure.” “Alright, let's see later at home and talk about this then.” Jared tried to apologize again, but I cut him off. I was too tired for arguments, and besides, I had to go back to prepping for lunch service. He finally placed a feathered kiss on my forehead before stepping out. A sharp exhale, after Jared left. There would be time to sort through my feelings later. For now, I needed to get back to work and focus on something I could control. After regaining composure, I made my way out of the office to continue my work. By the time my shift was over, the sun had dipped below the horizon. I was tidying up when my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and discovered it was Ashley, my best friend. A smile broke out on my face, and I answered the phone. “Hey, where are you?” Ashley’s voice sounded from the other end. I was taken aback by her unusually serious tone. Ashley never directly called me at worktime, why was she asking? “Still at work, about to leave though. What’s going on? You sound worried.” I asked. Ashley’s next response sent a chill down my spine. “Arielle, I just saw Jared and a pregnant woman going home together…” Chapter 3 When doubt creeps in. (ARIELLE'S POV) “Ashley, I need to go. Thank you for the information. I will call you back later.” After the phone call with Ashley and figured out the home she said was actually my mother-in-law’s house, I tried my best to handle my whirling thoughts. Jared was always considerate and meticulous. I thought I knew this man after three years’ marriage. However, I’ve never seen him as emotional as he was in the restaurant, nor have I seen him break his words, twice in a row. He promised to wait for me at our home, now this? I sighed as I stepped down from my car. Upon arriving at the old mansion, nothing prepared me for the sight I was met with. Sofia was seated comfortably in the sitting room, and she was not alone. She was with Jared's mother, and they were conversing and laughing happily. While Jared was sitting alone on the single sofa next to them. “What’s going on here?” I managed to ask, a lump forming on my throat. As I approached, Jared rose smoothly, reaching for my coat. “Mom wanted to see Sofia, so I brought her over,” he explained, his tone measured. “You could have told me first,” I said quietly. Jared’s eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of apology passing through them, before he went upstairs with my coat. Great. Now I had to deal with this on my own. Sofia turned to me with a carefree look, like she owned the house. “Oh, hey, Arielle. I’m glad you are home. Jared's Mom and I were catching up.” My eyes grew suspicious as I tried not to glare at Sofia. What is she doing here? Why is my mother-in-law so friendly with her? Jared’s mother looked up at me, her expression neutral, not as warm as when she was talking to Sofia. “Welcome back,” she said curtly, then turned her attention back to Sofia. “Go on, dear, you were saying?” I was hurt and embarrassed as I stood there, feeling like an outsider in my own home. I thought I knew Jared too well, but now I was terrified that he might not have told me the entire truth about his relationship with Sofia. Because, how come she was merely his friend but had such a close relationship with his mother? “Oh, I was saying,” Sofia's shrill voice interrupted my thoughts. Why do I think she was intentionally being loud so I could hear her? “I returned from abroad to celebrate Jared’s birthday, and I met Arielle at the restaurant earlier. It was our first time meeting,” Sofia continued. I sneered at her forced cheerfulness. I hope she also told Jared’s mother how rude she was, how she threatened to have me fired, and how she claimed Jared's was her husband. “Oh, really? That was nice,” Jared's mother said, obviously intrigued by the conversation. “I still can't believe Jared married a mere chef. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but it is not exactly a prestigious job and not befitting for the wife of a billionaire.” She was smiling brightly, but I could see the challenge in her eyes. She wanted me to react. I raised an eyebrow and gave her a cool laugh. “True. Jared always complains that I cook for the guests, not for him. It really takes skill to satisfy a billionaire’s taste every single day.” Sofia’s lips twitched, and I could see her struggling to keep her composure. “Oh, I didn’t mean to belittle your skills or your profession. I just think Jared could have... chosen differently.” I shrugged slightly. “He did. He chose me.” Sophia was choked. “All right, all right. Arielle. Sofia was merely voicing her opinion,” Jared’s mother chipped in. “Indeed,” I said, sarcastically. She then turned to Sofia, “Okay Sofia, dear, let's not talk about Arielle anymore and focus on our previous discussion. Tell me everything about your trip.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat. However, Sofia’s words caught my attention: “So I arrived in town last night…” Last night. The same time Jared had supposedly been working late. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as my mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. Sofia glanced away, seemingly unbothered by my silence. As the pieces fell into place, a realisation hit me: the call Jared received last night was not about work, but because he went to pick Sofia at the airport. My heart sank into my stomach. Why did he have to lie? Slowly, doubts about my marriage crept in. Do I really know the man I'm married to, or are there things about him I still need to know? Jared’s mother suddenly turned to face me, a smile on her face. “Arielle, in case you have been wondering how come I know Sofia, I will tell you now. Sofia and Jared have been friends for a long time. They share a special bond, and I wish you could get along with her as well as Jared does.” I forced a smile, not trusting myself to speak. Get along with Sofia? I couldn’t even stand being in the same room with her. “I’ll go prepare your favorites, ladies,” Jared’s mother said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. The moment she left, Sofia turned to me, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, Arielle, did I tell you Jared and I go way, way back? Oh, I didn't? You see, we met as early as in kindergarten, and he's been chasing me for twenty years,” Sofia narrated. My eyes widened in surprise. Why didn't Jared tell me all of these? “Can you believe it? Twenty whole years! Jared liked me a whole lot and used to do anything I asked of him. We went to prom together, and he even carved our initials on the bark of an old willow tree in the park. I was a beautiful girl, I still am, and I had numerous suitors back then. Jared was so jealous that he used to even fight off any male that got close to me.” Sofia continued. As Sofia spoke of their past, a mix of curiosity and jealousy churned in my stomach. I pushed the feelings down, forcing my lips into a polite curve. “That's the past, Sofia, He’s married to me now and nothing would change that.” Sofia’s smile faltered for a second, but she didn’t stop. “And yet, he ended up marrying you just a month after I travelled abroad…” “That’s enough, Sofia. I’m sure that my wife doesn’t need all those details,” Jared’s voice suddenly sounded from behind, interrupting Sofia. As I turned to face him, his gaze darted away. Chapter 4 Trouble in paradise (ARIELLE’S POV) While Sofia clamped her mouth shut, startled by Jared’s sudden appearance, I slowly rose from the chair, still reeling from the shock of all I had heard. I was heartbroken that I had to hear all of that from Sofia, who also doubled as my husband’s life crush. I couldn’t believe it. I got to Jared and ignored him completely as I walked past, but he tried to talk to me. “Arielle, please listen–” he said, trying to reach for me. I shrugged his hand off and walked upstairs, my eyes welled up with tears. I got to the room and collapsed on the bed, numb, exhausted and disappointed. Just then, a text arrived on my phone. It was from Jared: “I’m sorry.” I sighed and put the phone off, before falling into a turbulent sleep. The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed, and the absence of Jared felt heavy. He must have slept in the guest room again. Or worse—what if he had slept in the same room as Sofia? The thought made my heart race, but I quickly shook it off. Doubts might be creeping in, but I knew the man I married. After getting ready for work, I headed downstairs and found Jared waiting for me in the foyer. “Hey, good morning,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Yeah, good morning,” I responded, trying to act cool too. “Look, Arielle, about yesterday. Sofia’s just struggling with the pregnancy because it's her first. It's making her become needy and overly pampered. Please don't take it too personally. Don't believe everything she said. Kindly forgive her,” Jared pleaded. Instead of softening my heart like the words were intended to, they only made me bitter at the fact that my husband was in defense of another woman. Speaking of pregnancy, was he aware that I too was pregnant? Of course not, he had prioritized his ex over me on the day I was supposed to break the news to him. “I’m going to work now, Jared. And when I get back, I would rather not see that woman here again.” My day at work was uneventful, a blur of cooking and cleaning, and soon it was closing time. I was in my office wrapping things up when a knock echoed on the door. “Who is it?” I called out. “Rebecca, Ma,” my junior chef replied. “A hot man is waiting outside for you with a massive bouquet, “ she announced, and I didn't miss the giggle in her voice. I paused, confused. Did I have an appointment? I quickly grabbed my bag. “I’m coming out now.” As I stepped outside, Jared stood by the entrance, bouquet in hand. I was momentarily taken back, but regained myself and swirled around to face Rebecca. “Unfortunately it’s not some hot man, just my husband,” I said. I wouldn't blame her, Jared had only visited my new place of work the day of Sofia's saga, so it’s reasonable no one here was acquainted with him. “Hey, what are you doing here, Mr Smith?” I asked, stopping right in front of Jared. “Apologising to Mrs Smith for being a jerk. Arielle, I am so sorry I didn't tell you about Sofia earlier. I have no excuse. Can you forgive me? To make it up to you, how about a weekend getaway date at our first house?” Jared said, all smiles. At that moment, my heart softened and every fiber of anger I harbored within me ebbed away. Our first house—a cozy penthouse we had chosen and decorated together after we married—held so many good memories. It was seldom visited later due to its long distance from my current workplace. To say I was pleased was an understatement, I was beyond the moon with excitement. Finally, a vacation that will help me forget all the dramas of the past days and who knows, it could be the perfect place to break the news of my pregnancy to Jared! “So, what do you say, Mrs Smith?” Jared inquired, looking at me expectantly. “I’d say,” I blinked, “Mr Smith does know how to please a woman.” He melted me in his kiss. “Thank you love, for forgiving me and accepting the offer,” Jared said, a smile spreading across his face. “Here is your flower,” he handed me the bouquet. I accepted it, inhaling the fragrant lavender—my favorite. “Thank you,” I mouthed. Jared led me toward the parking lot, opening the door for me before getting in on his side. As we drove to our penthouse, anticipation bubbled within me. An hour later, we pulled up at the parking lot of the house. It was located inside a reputable estate. But as we alighted, something didn't seem right. I tried to place what it was and a few seconds of racking my brain brought it to my cognizance as I noticed a light on in one of the rooms. “Jared, I think someone’s in the house,” I said as we approached the front door. “What do you mean?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. “Look,” I pointed, “the light is on.” “Come on, Arielle. You are being paranoid. You probably forgot to turn off the lights the last time we were here,” Jared said, waving off my observation. I was just about to protest when the front door swung open, and there stood Sofia, a bright smile on her face. Jared and I halted in our tracks as we exchanged surprised looks. “What the hell? What are you doing here?” I snarled at Sofia, unable to control my rage this time. “Take a chill pill, Arielle. I got the address of the place from Jared's mum. She asked me to live here pending when I get a place of my own. She insisted the cozy environment would be good for my pregnancy.” Sofia explained. “You have no right to be here! This place is for Jared and me. I can’t believe she gave you the keys,” I shot back, furious. The hell, why do I keep seeing this lady at every turn I take? “Oh, my bad, I didn’t know you two would visit here anytime soon... I'm so sorry, I'll leave right away,” Sofia said, feigning a sorry look that I could tell was absolutely fake. “Arielle, let’s go inside first,” Jared suggested. I glared at Sofia before storming inside, storming past her at the door. “Sofia, this place is like a safe haven for me and Arielle, and we cherish it so dearly, especially Arielle, that seeing another face in it seems a bit improper,” Jared began in a calm tone, the moment we were all inside the house. It was almost like he was being cautious with his words and didn't want to hurt her. “It’s fine, I understand. I’ll leave right away,” Sofia said, putting on a pathetic act. “That will be gladly appreciated,” I said, feeling no atom of pity for her because I could see through her emotional game. But that wasn't the case for Jared, he doesn't want a pregnant woman to suffer so much, so he intervened. “Arielle, that won't be nice. It's late, and she's pregnant,” he said in a placating tone. And then he turned to Sofia, “You can spend the night here, and we will discuss the issue of your housing in the morning.” Sofia shook her head, pretending to be weak. “No, I wouldn’t want to cause any tension between you two.” “No, she's fine with it,” Jared said and turned to give me a pleading look. “Right, Arielle?” I ignored them both, deciding to take a tour of the house to calm my nerves. As I walked through, I noticed the changes. Jared and my decorations have all been discarded and replaced by different designs. Anger rose from the deepest part of me as I knew no one else would be responsible for the act, except Sofia. Ready to confront her, I marched back to the sitting room, my vision blinded by raw fury. I had just gotten to the sitting room, when Sofia suddenly squealed and rushed up to Jared, snatching the bouquet in his hand. I must have left it in the car, and Jared had thought to bring it inside for me. Just when I was about to yell at Sofia to hand me my flowers, she exclaimed, “Oh, Jared, you are so sweet. I can't believe you still remember my favorite flower…” Chapter 5 Having to deal with a bitchy third wheel (ARIELLE'S POV) I stopped in my tracks at Sofia’s words. Did she just say her “favorite flower?” “The bouquet, hand it over. It is mine, Jared got it for me.” I said, smiling coldly. Sofia sneered and turned to Jared. “Jay-Jay, the flower is for me, right? Remember, back then during high school days, you used to gift me lavender flowers when you came to pick me up on prom nights. When you called me your best friend, Jay?” Jared looked thorn, as he looked from me to Sofia. I couldn't believe he was even contemplating it! That flower was mine for Christ’s sake, he should simply ask her to hand it back to me, the right owner. “Ummm… Arielle, let Sofia have it. I will get you another one tomorrow, I promise,” Jared finally said. My mouth fell open in surprise. I couldn’t believe my ears. Yet again, Jared had chosen his “best friend” over me? “You are unbelievable, Jared!” I exclaimed. Sofia turned and smirked at me, a triumphant look in her eyes. Only I could see her because she had her back to Jared. “I can’t stand this,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender. “You two can have the house to yourselves, I will look for a hotel to crash in.” I turned around and stormed off to the place where I kept my bag, ready to leave. As expected, Jared appeared beside me, his face apologetic. “Arielle, you don’t always have to lose your cool. She’s pregnant, and I heard pregnancy hormones affect women’s behavior a lot.” I wanted to scream and ask him what about me? Was I not pregnant too? And then the bitter reality dawned on me that yet again, my chance of breaking the news of my pregnancy to Jared had been ruined. “Say something love, please,” Jared frowned. “I have nothing to say. Leave my way, I have to get a hotel before it gets too late,” I finally said, making to walk past him. “I’m truly sorry, Wifey. Fine, how about I make us dinner? I know you hate making dinner at night, so I’m volunteering to take up the task tonight.” I sighed, as I considered his offer. I hated cooking dinner late, and I hate eating out too. If I sleep at a hotel tonight, I am definitely going to eat out. Reluctantly, I accepted Jared’s offer. Making dinner will be the perfect punishment for Jared, as he will have to do the dishes afterward. And besides, deep in my heart I wouldn’t want to leave my husband alone with Sofia. I was just about to let him know that I had accepted his offer when Sofia spoke from behind me. “Why would you offer to cook, Jared? Cooking is a domestic chore, and is meant for women alone. You see, I have been working hard all day, cleaning this whole house and putting away decorations I found Medieval and out of vogue. I’m so tired and can’t lift a pin, else, I would have offered to do the cooking. As for you, Jared, I’m sure you are tired as well. Being a billionaire CEO is no easy feat, and after a long day at work, you deserve to rest. Arielle, here, should do the cooking. She seems so energetic and even ready to get into a fight, the energy will be a lot useful if she uses it to make us dinner. Besides, she is a domestic worker and cooks for a living.” I was dumbstruck as I listened to Sofia ramblings. With the way it spoke, a stranger would have mistaken her for the mistress of the house. Jared must have realized that Sofia was crossing the line because he immediately intervenes. “That’s enough, Sofia. You can’t speak to my wife in that manner. Do not go to that extent next time,” Jared chided. Although I was not all too satisfied with his tone, I was glad that Jared had finally spoken up and put Sofia in her place. Finally, my turn to make faces at her. Sofia immediately puts on a hurt expression. “I can’t believe this, Jared. I wasn’t being rude to her, I was merely telling the truth! You have changed a lot since you got married, Jared. You have forgotten the bond we used to share!” “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Sofia. But…” I didn’t wait for Jared to finish as I walked off, leaving them to themselves. I was utterly disappointed in Jared. This minute he scolded her, the other, he is trying to pacify her. I arrived in the kitchen and began to take out the ingredients for dinner preparation. I intended to make macaroni, chicken, and cheese. A few minutes into it, Jared stepped into the kitchen, looking remorseful. “I would like to help with dinner preparation, Arielle,” he said, coming to stand beside me. I knew telling him no will be of no use as he will only grow persistent, so I merely shrugged and carried on with what I was doing. “What are we having,” Jared asked. I knew he was trying to initiate a conversation because a mere glance at the ingredients on the kitchen counter could tell anyone what we were having. “Macaroni, chicken and cheese,” I said simply. I was in a complicated mood, and in no way interested in a conversation with him. After getting the ingredients ready and having placed the macaroni on fire, I turned to Jared, a serious look on my face. “For the last time, Jared, I want you to clarify your relationship with Sofia.” Jared sighed and took my hands in his, caressing them softly. “I promise you, Arielle, Sofia and I are just good friends. I might have a crush on her back then in high school, but that was all there was to it.” I nodded, and took my hands from his as I went to check on the food on fire. Jared helped with the remaining preparation of the food and a few minutes later, dinner was ready. I set the table, while Jared cleaned the kitchen after me. “I will go call Sofia,” he said to me, as I settled in the dining room to eat dinner. I nodded, without looking up, my attention fixated on my food. Seconds later, I heard approaching footsteps and I knew it was Sofia and Jared. I refused to look up, focusing on my food. I heard Sofia pull the chair opposite me, and settled in it. “This smells nice, I hope it tastes nice too,” Sofia said, as she uncovered her food. Jared sat down on the seat beside me, and soon, everyone was digging into their plates. Suddenly, Sofia made a throaty sound and the next second she was on her feet as she scurried away from the dinning. Jared went in hot pursuit, while I sat back, wondering what was happening. I didn’t have to wonder for long because Jared and Sofia returned minutes later, with Jared looking worried, and Sofia looking pale. “What happened?” I inquired, looking from Jared to Sofia. “What happened is that you tried to poison me, making it the second time. First, it was at the restaurant, and now, in your house. What did I ever do to you?” Sofia said, feigning tears. “I don’t understand. Why would I poison you? Jared was in the kitchen with me, and I served everyone the same food,” I said defensively. “You added milk to the macaroni, and I am allergic to milk!” Sofia yelled. “That’s right, Arielle. Sofia is allergic to milk. You shouldn’t have added it to the meal,” Jared said. I was too stunned to look at Jared. We were in the kitchen together, and he saw me use the ingredients, milk was never part of them. I rose to my feet, having lost appetite. “Just for the records, Sofia, I never used milk in that dish. As a matter of fact, that’s my milk–free recipe. You can ask any of my customers in the restaurant. But what difference does it make? You already decided that I poisoned you. Good night,” I said, smiling coldly before exiting the dining room. Chapter 6 When he chose her over me! (ARIELLE'S POV) I retired to the room upstairs, my head throbbing with a migraine. I couldn’t believe what had just happened in the dining room. Jared didn’t even scold Sofia for insinuating that I poisoned her. He knew me too well, that I wouldn’t hurt a fly, not to mention a pregnant woman. I didn’t like Sofia, alright, but the last thing I wound ever do was hurt her. She must be rejoicing now, knowing that her plan to cause a rift between me and Jared had worked. We couldn’t even have dinner in peace. Her presence is always disrupting the peace of my marriage. I sighed and collapsed on the bed, wondering what to do to get Sofia out of Jared and I’s life. Realizing that I was feeling sleepy again due to my pregnancy, I got off the bed and walked into the bathroom for my night shower. After that, I slumped on the bed in exhaustion. I didn’t know how long I slept, but I woke up with a dry throat and a thirsty tongue yearning for water. I got off the bed, slipped my legs into my flip-flops and made my way downstairs, to the kitchen. As I ascended the stairs and approached the hallway to the kitchen, I heard voices. Getting closer, I realized it was Jared and Sofia talking. My face frowned in disapproval as I looked at the grandfather clock at the far corner, and it read 1 o’clock in the morning. Why the hell was Jared up by that time and talking to her? He was supposed to be in bed with me. Just then, Sofia’s voice filtered to my ears, it was not just that sweet voice, but her words. I stopped in my tracks as I listened to her. “What were you thinking when you got married to such a tough woman like Arielle, Jared? She is mean and lacks human sympathy. Didn’t you see how she was unconcerned about having me thrown out, at night? She is not only mean, but inconsiderate too for making you pick her up late from work. You should be resting after a stressful day at work and not playing the role of a driver to her.” “She didn’t ask me to, Sofia. I did it willingly. She is my wife after all,” I heard Jared say. I scoffed, at least he said a word in defense of me this time. “You have changed, Jared. This isn’t you. What has that woman done to you?” Sofia’s shrill voice cried out. “Stop it, Sofia. For someone with a failed marriage, you have no right giving hot takes or interfering in mine. Our past is over, just let it remain so.” “But you know it Jared, you know I divorced my husband because of you!” My eyes widened. What the hell? What did Sofia mean by that? “No, you didn’t! Don’t drag me into your divorce story!” Jared snapped, his voice laced with fury. I could feel the heat of his anger—it didn’t ease the weight in my chest. I had ever seen him act like this, so much of… rawest emotion. Then I heard a sob escape Sofia’s throat. And soon, her sobs grew into a cry. I moved closer. To my consternation, Sofia had moved into Jared’s arms, crying, as she held on to him tightly. I was infuriated and disgusted when I saw Jared wrap his arms around her, consoling her. Angry, and my thirst momentarily forgotten, I hurried back upstairs and began to pack my things. I needed to leave. I have had just enough of Jared and Sofia’s excesses. After packing, I slipped out of my robe into a more decent clothing before grabbing my handbag and making my way out. I walked towards the stairs, and just at the entrance, I saw Sofia standing, obviously waiting for me. There was a smirk on her face, and a malicious glint in her eyes. I decided to keep my emotions in check and maintain composure. I will avoid confrontation with Sofia as much as I can. All I was concerned about was leaving. I ascended the stairs, and as expected, Sofia blocked my path. “I have no strength for this, Sofia. Kindly leave the way,” I said, my voice firm. “And if I don’t? You think you can try to kill me and go Scott Free?” Sofia asked, hands akimbo. “Come off it, Jared is not here, so you might as well drop the act. There was no milk in the food, and what you did back there at the dinning was merely a stunt to draw Jared’s attention to yourself, like the attention starved kitten that you are. Now, leave my way, I have no time for your drama.” “You just refused to see the reality didn’t you? Alright, you may pass,” Sofia said and made way for me. I sneered and walked straight past her. “If we were both in danger, who do you think Jared would save first?” Sofia suddenly asked. “What?” I didn’t have the time to process what she meant, because the next minute, I felt a push on my back and lost balance, skidding off the stairs to land at its base. I let out a loud guttural scream, and Sofia must have heard Jared’s approaching step because she quickly rushed to me and laid down beside me, making groaning sounds like we fell together. God, this woman was despicable! I wanted to shout, to expose her, but the pain was too intense - especially in my abdomen. Oh God, the baby! Panic surged through me, and another scream followed. Sofia echoed my cry, louder, trying to steal Jared’s attention. Jared rushed in. His eyes flicked back and forth between us, confusion written all over him. I couldn’t speak, but my eyes begged him. Please, help me. Help our baby. For a moment, I thought he understood. He immediately rushed to me, but just as I was expecting him to carry me up, he halted and turned to Sofia instead. Before I slipped into unconsciousness, all I recalled was Jared saving Sofia instead of me.	LEARN_MORE	https://nvwibcnshop.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461604491_1225956918603236_8779588018568492096_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mzrqCIdhXggQ7kNvgFmccJf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhNBZbqfaBVHWZ3oPW52AXv&oh=00_AYCdt44nnxe8-rjG0IsNH_mTZaXywVi9b9M9lZwJBuyVDQ&oe=674D8D0C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,548,467	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-11-27 19:50	active	1932		En medio de la ruina económica de su familia, ella renunció a su preciado violín y se convirtió en la dócil mascota de su esposo, solo para encontrarse con el desprecio de este. Afortunadamente, ella por fin despertó, se divorció con valentía y reinició su carrera musical, alcanzando un gran éxito y provocando el remordimiento de su ex. ===== Joelle Miller examinó minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atención cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenía una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. Había descubierto que, en los días importantes, Nochebuena, San Valentín e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se había ausentado de todos esos días durante los últimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron más que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "¿Lo ven? Él siempre guarda para mí la parte más jugosa de una sandía". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "¡Y miren esta sorpresa! Recogió de la iglesia un amuleto de bendición para mí". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la única cuenta a la que Joelle seguía. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abrió. En la habitación poco iluminada apareció Adrian. Gotas de agua caían de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminación, sus atractivos rasgos permanecían intactos. Joelle cerró instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que lo vio. Esa noche él no estaba ahí por decisión propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como quería un bisnieto con desesperación, lo obligó a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabían que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirá si quedas earazada o no", declaró Adrian con una voz resonante. ¿Qué quería decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarró del tobillo y la atrajo hacia él. Joelle palideció ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensó de miedo. "¡Adrian! Basta, no quiero...". Empezó a luchar frenéticamente. Era una completa humillación verse obligada a vivir en esa situación con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, así que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguántalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lágrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneció a medida que la desesperación se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difícil es mucho más interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentó con rencor. Después de ducharse, se marchó sin mirar atrás, como si no quisiera quedarse más tiempo ahí. Joelle no entendía qué papel tenía en su vida. ¿Solo era un juguete para su placer? ¿O una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gélido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropó más con su manta. No solo temblaba de frío, sino que sentía su corazón desgarrado, ahora no conocía en absoluto al hombre que había adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrás, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebió demasiado. Cuando se despertó, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podía revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomó las riendas y organizó su matrimonio. Desde entonces, él estaba convencido de que Joelle lo había hecho a propósito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por más que creyera que lo había dgado. Después de todo, habían crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendía todo. Para él, ella no era más que la nefasta mujer que había saboteado su relación con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que él se veía en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostraría esa misma ternura. No pudo contener más las lágrimas y sucumbió a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos términos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantó inusualmente temprano. Después de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajó las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada doméstica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rápidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocía sus preferencias dietéticas. Joelle se tomó su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, ¿por qué anoche no convenció a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentó Leah con simpatía. Había sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que había visto cómo los dos se convertían de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostró incómoda, pero lo ocultó con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intenté, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, él tenía el corazón en otra parte. Más concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudó y agregó con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller está muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrás, le habían reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, así que entendía los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatía hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lágrimas debido a la tensión emocional. Sí, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenía tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia Redención en busca de un amuleto de bendición para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompió el silencio. Cuando Leah salió del comedor, Joelle agarró el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesó con voz ronca. Capítulo 2 En declive Joelle había tomado una decisión: quería el divorcio. No tenía sentido seguir alargándolo. Tras un silencio atónito, Katherine soltó una estridente carcajada. "¿Te quedarás con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ¡Oh, por Dios! ¡Joelle, te convertirás en una multimillonaria!". "No, no será así". Joelle había firmado un acuerdo cuando se casó con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibiría nada. "Entonces, ¿por qué te estás divorciando? ¡Tienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordó la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, así como la humillación posterior. Había sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por él la ayudaría a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabía que había sido una completa tonta. ¿El sufrimiento hacía que Adrian la amara más? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le haría sufrir. Joelle se rio de sí misma y cambió de tema: "Por cierto, ¿recuerdas el favor que te pedí?". "Sí, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violín, aunque debo decir que será un desperdicio de tu talento". "Está bien", respondió Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No será un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "¿Cómo que no será un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio…". Katherine se quedó en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. Después de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridículo. Hacía tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibían tocar en público. El primer día de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerá en todo lo que necesites. Tu único trabajo es tener bebés y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminó su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subió las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violín abandonado. Había sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco después de recibirlo, este sufrió un derrame cerebral y cayó en coma. Su hermano mayor terminó asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, así que la dejó perseguir su sueño de tocar el violín. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle movió el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrás, un accidente le había lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no había vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentía en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confió en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltó una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchó la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "¡Señor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavía se preocupaba por Joelle. Quizás si ella le decía algo amable, su relación podría mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venía a casa durante el día. Apenas había dejado el violín cuando se abrió la puerta. Ahí estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle había aprendido a tocar el violín cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la había elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razón, había dejado de tocar. Hacía un momento, la había escuchado desde afuera y le pareció una interpretación mediocre. ¿Cómo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo miró y bajó la cabeza para volver a guardar el violín en su estuche. "¿Qué te trae por aquí?", murmuró. "¿Necesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondió él fríamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el día. De no ser por esa obligación, Adrian no habría regresado. Irene se enfadaría si no iban juntos. Joelle sonrió con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplía. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podía encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tú tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondió. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezó a hervir dentro de él. Sin decir nada más, se dirigió al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque él no solía estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenía la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah también podía hacer. Su única ventaja, tal vez, era ser más joven y más guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. Tenía el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesó el corazón. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declaró con una voz tan suave como la brisa. Había agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintió extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la miró con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson está en declive. Sin mi apoyo, ¿vas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caída de la familia Watson, Joelle pasó de ser amada a quedar en ridículo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podían librarse. Incluso sus momentos íntimos con Adrian la hacían sentir degradada. Joelle se mordió el labio y se enderezó. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mío". Solo quería que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habían dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "¿Y de dónde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querías ser independiente, no deberías haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontró entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. Sí, había utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, ¿lo que era suyo no era también de él? Además, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les había dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendía a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre había despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con él era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejaría de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ¿Estaba sugiriendo que ella debía salir del matrimonio con las manos vacías? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legítimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mío. Pero no te preocupes, no pediré mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedó paralizado y su mirada se agudizó. Sus labios formaron una fina línea mientras apretaba la mandíbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se había preparado mentalmente, no podía soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponía más ansiosa. De repente, sonó el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacó de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "¡Adrian!". Capítulo 3 Siempre mantendré la cabeza en alto La frustración de Adrian crepitaba como estática. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "¡No se trata de eso!", replicó Joelle. La había malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazón latiendo con urgencia, corrió tras él. "¡Adrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejó de subir las escaleras y giró la cabeza. El celular en su mano había dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, ¿no se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntó burlonamente con una mirada gélida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, ¿por qué no se lo dices tú misma a la abuela? ¡No quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerró de golpe detrás de él, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisión. Joelle se apoyó contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizó al suelo. Una risa amarga emergió de sus labios. Irene había organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se había visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabía muy bien. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, lo más efectivo sería hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estúpida parte de ella se había aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo había mencionado primero a él, porque lo veía como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidó un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca había querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia había sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella había intentado pasarla por alto. Sus últimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, debería enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparó para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenía un vínculo muy especial con ella. En parte, había aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. Quería cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba más. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecía consumirla. Era consciente de que él no la amaba. ¡Nunca lo hizo y nunca lo haría! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonó su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "¿Shawn? ¿Qué ocurre?". "¡Señora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca había escuchado. Se le heló la s*gre y agarró el celular con más fuerza mientras permanecía en la escalera. "¿Dónde está mi hermano? ¿Qué le pasó?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistió a una reunión de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que biera. Supuestamente volvería a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistió en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedó congelada y la furia recorrió sus venas. "¿Erick no sabía que eso podría matarlo?". "¡Erick es un svergüenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chóferes de la familia Miller. ¡Señora Miller, tiene que venir rápido! El señor Watson está siendo operado y los médicos han emitido dos avisos de condición crítica. ¡No pude aguantar más, así que la llamé!". El asistente parecía estar al borde de las lágrimas. Joelle sabía que él no se habría puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situación fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la había protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrías que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debía estar en peligro. Joelle sintió como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formó en su garganta. Al bajar del último escalón, tropezó y se cayó con fuerza, torciéndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolvió a la realidad y las lágrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "¡Oh, no, señora Miller, tenga más cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corrió a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarró el brazo de Leah con la visión borrosa a causa de las lágrimas. Intentó hablar, pero las palabras le salían entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ¡Tengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintió su urgencia y respondió sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ¡Le pediré al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos después, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volvió hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazón de la criada se ablandó. Incluso con el rostro pálido y surcado de lágrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ¡Qué muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sé qué hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegó al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirófano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomó. Joelle se acercó y lo encontró arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en sgre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. Más tarde habría tiempo para eso. Cuando la condición de Shawn fue más estable, Joelle llevó al asistente a un lado. "Cuéntamelo todo. ¿Cómo ocurrió esto?". El asistente vaciló, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenó específicamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestión de vida o muerte. ¿Piensas que todavía es una opción no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondió el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea más llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn había luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrían desvanecido hacía mucho tiempo. Su deseo más profundo era que su hermana viviera cómodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecía por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguiría siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabía que no podía cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspiró profundamente y preguntó: "¿No mencionaron mi relación con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas más difíciles a usted". Joelle soltó una risa amarga. Jamás había estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podía soportarse a sí misma. Solo hacía una hora que le había pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligió personalmente. ¡Mientras sea la señora Miller, mantendré la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrás de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenía una sonrisa fría en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frágil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a él. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se había dado cuenta de que ella realmente no quería el divorcio. La mujer que había parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su título como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no había sido más que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacías. Era tan astuta que lo había d*gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tácticas tan engañosas, ¿cómo podría irse tan fácilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle sería una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciándose de él. Capítulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta Hacía mucho que Joelle se había vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. Observó sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordó los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ¡Qué pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeó. "¡Joelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, así que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozó una leve sonrisa. "¿Qué te trae al hospital?", preguntó mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicación de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "También vine a pedirte perdón, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "¿Descuidado?", replicó ella. "Tu hermano casi mta al mío, ¿y crees que una disculpa bastará para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeció y agarró la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondió él con una voz tan gélida como el invierno. "No fue a propósito". Luego, se volvió hacia Rebecca y agregó suavemente: "Vamos, ¿no viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendió todo. Había esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, había venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, sería por obligación, nada más. Pero sabía que no debía esperar que él la defendiera. "¡Rebecca, no olvidaré lo que hizo Erick!", espetó. Rebecca dobló las piernas y se desplomó sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapó justo a tiempo y la abrazó con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenía malas intenciones. ¡También está en el hospital!". "¿Ya está muerto? ¡Si no, tendrá que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solía arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la única familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperación, y su madre había fallecido en un accidente de tráfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habían sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentándose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos más oscuros, Shawn llevó sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasión por el violín. Ahora la idea de perderlo también a él era insoportable. Su único deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ¿cómo puedes decir eso?", sollozó Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijó su fría mirada en Joelle. "¿Qué deseas?". "Shawn recibió dos avisos de condición crítica. ¿Qué hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeó, su frágil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "¡Joelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ¡Por favor, ten compasión!". Se desmayó antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantó en sus brazos y le dio una última mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejó y la dejó clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareció una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, había sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtió en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que había sido. Ella solía ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sólo para complacer a su marido. ¡Qué patético! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? Los capítulos disponibles son limitados aquí, haga click el botón abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo más contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederá a este libro) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa	Romance Novel	https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/	48,400	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.manobook.com	VIDEO	https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214427956440186	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467767439_2820609891477184_5552469309350277945_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=FoeGr7clKKUQ7kNvgEti-kE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A8hrHaz8lCl9tyvqPmIIHAR&oh=00_AYDCmgMzZ4Tlb_gT4SHjfZbDC6ta0yMA7FhZfBpePNL_Vw&oe=674D7B2E	PERSON_PROFILE	Romance Novel	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,549,343	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549936}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:57	active	1932	Read more FREE chapters👉	"You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,549,498	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549765}'	No	2024-11-27 19:58	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Chapter 1 "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled. The operating room reeked of blood. She had never seen so much blood before. At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind. 'Who would suddenly take away A-type blood from the blood bank?' The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you wouldn't come to see me.' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. Her withered, frail body collapsed weakly on the bed. Debra felt exhausted. At just twenty-seven, she passed away because of postpartum hemorrhage in the hospital. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit, just to earn a little favor from Juan. For this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. It only lowered her status and self-esteem. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. Debra simply ignored her hints. "I'll wear this one," she said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black leather combat boots saw her. Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's taste is just terrible, preferring a skinny woman to his beautiful woman. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. He cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols," Shelia murmured. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." Chapter2 Juan also looked over. A red figure stood out in the crowd. Debra, clad in a burgundy dress, seemed to captivate hearts with every gesture. Cameras flashed at her like she was a reigning superstar walking the red carpet. 'Debra?' Juan took a moment to recognize her. In the past, Debra preferred light makeup and plain dresses. This was the first time Juan had seen her like this. Seeing Debra for the first time, Shelia was filled with jealousy. Compared to the alluring Debra, she seemed too plain. "Debra looks stunning." Shelia's tone carried a subtle envy. Debra spotted them and walked over. Shelia thought Debra, unaware of her relationship with Juan, would be surprised or awkward, but Debra was poised and smiling. "Mrs. Nichols is here. Who's the lady beside Mr. Nichols?" whispered a reporter. Debra approached, linking her arm with Juan's, and extended a hand towards Shelia. "You must be Shelia mentioned by Juan. Nice to meet you! I'm Debra. You can call me Mrs. Nichols." Shelia withdrew her hand from Juan's and shook hands with Debra. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nichols," Shelia said awkwardly. "Juan told me that he sponsored you. You're going to study abroad, right?" Debra said. Shelia glanced at Juan. "Shelia excels in her studies. She's planning to go abroad this year, but she's a bit timid, so I brought her here today to broaden her horizons," Juan said. He had brought Shelia here to see the world of the upper class. Juan hadn't completely fallen for Shelia yet. It was only after Shelia returned from abroad that Juan fell in love with her. Even so, Juan attended all kinds of events with Shelia, to the point where everyone in Seamar City knew that Juan liked a college girl. But none of this mattered to Debra anymore. She came to the auction not to compete with Shelia but for a more important purpose. "Well then, take good care of Miss Miles. I'm going in," Debra said, letting go of Juan's arm. Juan was stunned. He hadn't expected these words to come from Debra's mouth. By the time he realized it, Debra had already get into the venue. Juan frowned. 'When did the unruly Debra become so agreeable?' Debra sat in an inconspicuous corner. The auction venue was filled with influential figures. If she remembered correctly, an abandoned piece of land that nobody wanted was bought by an obscure merchant at this auction. Later, because of the upscale developments around it, the land became valuable. The successful investment elevated the merchant's status, making him a commercial magnate. Since she had decided to leave Juan, Debra wanted to build up her own assets. After sitting down, Juan searched for Debra's figure. Beside him, Shelia asked, "Mr. Nichols, do you really want me to bid on your behalf?" Juan's attention returned, and he said, "Yes, I trust your judgment." Shelia blushed. She had studied finance for so long at school, just for this day. On the second floor, Debra watched them chat happily. Shelia indeed had some talent, which was one of the reasons why Juan would be attracted to her. In her last life, Shelia had once identified a prime piece of land, which impressed Juan. But that piece of land was valuable, to begin with. The Nichols Group's properties were around it, and Shelia inflated the price with Juan's money. In the end, the value of the land and the surrounding properties all increased, so Juan couldn't lose. Even without Shelia, Juan would have secured that piece of land. As the auction started, Shelia began to bid. She successfully won the first three prime pieces of land. Juan sat beside Shelia like a guardian. "The price of Crescent Manor starts at one billion." "Two billion." Debra's bidding caused a collective gasp. Juan frowned. What's gotten into this woman? Shelia whispered, "This piece of land isn't worth much. Debra's going to lose money." Juan texted Debra. [What are you doing?] Debra read the message and ignored it. "Two billion once!" "Two billion twice!" ... "Is Debra crazy? Two billion for this piece of junk?" On the second floor, Randy was flabbergasted. "Three billion," Marion bid. Randy nearly flipped the table. "Marion! Are you insane too?" Across from them, Debra frowned. She wanted to know who was crazy enough to compete with her for this wasteland, only to see Marion. She vaguely remembered Marion was doing gray business. 'When did he start real estate development?' "Four billion!" Debra raised the stakes. Downstairs, Juan furrowed his brow and texted her again. [Debra, shut up!] Debra simply turned off her phone. "Five billion," Marion said. His provocation annoyed Debra. 'Alright, you want to play? Let's play.' "Ten billion!" she bid. "What! She's gone mad!" Randy exclaimed. Juan stood up, losing his composure. He couldn't quite grasp Debra's intentions. To him, this piece of land wasn't even worth one billion. Yet Debra was offering ten billion. Marion smiled at Debra and made a gesture of concession. "Ten billion!" The auctioneer exclaimed, "Any further bids? Ten billion, going once, going twice. Sold!" As the gavel fell, a weight lifted off Debra's heart. The land was finally hers, but she had unnecessarily spent an extra eight billion. It was all because of Marion. She glared at him. Randy nudged Marion, "Hey, Debra's glaring at you. If I were her, I'd probably be plotting your demise." Marion shrugged indifferently. Downstairs, Shelia tugged at Juan. "Mr. Nichols, Debra is going to make you bankrupt." "She set her own price. No one will help her pay the bills," Juan said. Chapter 3 Due to this episode, Juan's attention was solely on Debra. Shelia's performance was completely ignored. When the auction ended, Debra was about to leave when she bumped into Juan and Shelia. "Debra, if you don't understand real estate, don't mess around," Juan said bluntly. Shelia chimed in, "Yeah, Debra. Your actions have cost Mr. Nichols ten billion." Debra chuckled, "Miss Miles, you misunderstand. This piece of land is mine to get. What does it have to do with Juan?" Shelia blurted out, "But that's ten billion." "It's just pocket change for me, not to mention for her." From not far away, Randy's voice came. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frazier?" Debra caught sight of Marion and said, "It's just a plaything for purchase." Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Ten billion meant nothing to Juan and Debra. In front of these people, Shelia felt inferior. "Heard Mr. Nichols got married. Is the lady beside him Mrs. Nichols?" Marion chimed in. Shelia blushed, stammering, "N-no." "This is my wife, Debra," Juan said, pulling Debra close. Debra tried to shake off Juan's hand, but he held on tight. Since earlier, he had felt Marion's gaze on Debra. Men understood men best. He could see through Marion's thoughts. "So, Ms. Frazier is Mrs. Nichols. It's my bad. I saw Mr. Nichols chatting with this lady in the venue earlier, thinking she was Mrs. Nichols." Randy slapped his head. "Then this lady must be Mr. Nichols's secretary. No wonder she was holding up signs for Mr. Nichols earlier." Debra almost burst out laughing. Though she didn't care about Shelia and Juan anymore, hearing Randy's words still made her pleased. Shelia was totally embarrassed. "Joe, take Shelia home," Juan requested. "Yes, sir," Joe agreed. Randy grinned, "We'll get out of your hair. Bye!" After Randy and Marion left, Debra shook off Juan's hand. "Had enough?" Juan didn't expect Debra to pull away. Before, Debra couldn't wait to touch him. She seemed different tonight. "If you're trying to get my attention, you don't need to do this," Juan said. Debra was speechless. She wanted to argue, but she couldn't find the right words. Considering how much she cared about Juan in the past, she might have done so. But she wasn't that person anymore. "Whatever!" Debra shrugged. "Wait." Juan stopped her. "What now?" "What's your relationship with Marion?" "I don't even know him." Juan spoke coldly. "No matter what your relationship is with him, you are Mrs. Nichols in public. You better watch your identity and keep your distance from other men." Debra scoffed, "Before you demand anything from others, how about demanding it from yourself? Did you consider your status and my reputation when you brought Shelia here today?" "I had Joe inform you today." "Oh? Is it to tell me not to come?" Juan remained silent. He knew he was in the wrong. "Even Marion, an outsider, mistook Shelia for Mrs. Nichols. If you like her, let's get a divorce," Debra said. "Did you get up on the wrong side of the bed?" Juan frowned. Although he didn't love Debra, it didn't mean he wanted a divorce. Their marriage was based on interests. It was not something one person could dissolve. From Juan's serious expression, Debra could tell that he wasn't thinking of divorce now, but it was only because of her family. In a few years, when she became worthless, he would discard her like trash. Thinking of the miserable end of her last life, she'd rather end it now than wait for that moment. "I said, let's divorce." The next day, news of Debra's extravagant purchase of wasteland swept through major platforms. Debra was the sole heiress to the Frazier family, and ten billion was just a figure for her. However, with her family's businesses operating, she had limited liquid assets. It was not easy for her to raise the money. Debra lay on the bed, rubbing her brows. 'Should I find Juan? No.' He left without a word yesterday when she proposed a divorce. She couldn't understand. She was even willing to relinquish the Frazier family's wealth to him, yet he still didn't want a divorce. But besides Juan, who else could she turn to? Suddenly, Debra sat up. She had an idea. "Marion!" People in high society were in one circle. Debra managed to contact Marion through her connections. Debra remembered that Marion's influence was overseas, but in recent years, he had stationed himself in Seamar City. Others might not know why, but she did. In the coming years, Marion would rapidly take over local enterprises, competing head-to-head with Juan. In the conference room, Marion played with his lighter. Debra got straight to the point. "I want to borrow eight billion from you." Randy spat out his tea. He'd seen straightforward, but never this blunt. "Ms. Frazier, that's a large amount of money." Debra blinked. "Last time you said ten billion was nothing." "I just rolled the logs for you, and you're giving me a hard time." Randy shook his head. Beautiful women were always a bit sick in their heads. Marion flicked his lighter. "Why should I lend you any money?" "I could've secured Crescent Manor with two billion, but because of your meddling, I have to pay an extra." "Not a convincing reason." Debra fell silent for a moment before saying, "Your industries are all overseas, but for the past two years, you've been frequenting Seamar City. I guess you want to launder your overseas money here. Am I right?" Randy paused his tea-drinking motion, subconsciously glancing at Marion. He didn't expect Debra to understand these things. Chapter 4 The room fell silent for a moment. Marion smirked and said, "Mrs. Nichols, you can't wrongly accuse good people." "Yeah, we're all legitimate businessmen," Randy chimed in. "In the realm of legitimate business, it's not up to me to judge. But I think Juan might be interested," Debra said. "I'm just a clueless rich girl, while Juan isn't. If I tell him what happened, I wonder if he'll take notice." "You're sneaky!" Randy couldn't contain his frustration. Debra looked at Marion seriously. "Lend me eight billion, and I'll pay you back with interest in three years." Randy's eyes widened. "Are you kidding? Do you know how much interest that'll be? If you can't pay it back, we'll lose eight billion. You're Juan's wife. Who can hold you accountable?" "I know the interest. I'll sign a contract with you. If I can't repay, I'll give you my family's properties and stocks, and I'll work for you for the rest of my life." Randy paused and continued, "And besides, my marriage with Juan might not last three years. Even if I'm still his wife then, he won't protect me." Marion looked up and stared at Debra for a while. Randy's ears perked up as he smelled gossip. But he quickly composed himself. "No, I disagree!" But Marion agreed, "Okay, I'll lend it to you." "What?" Randy jumped up from his chair. "Have you gone mad?" "I'll have the finance department transfer the money to you. We'll draft the contract later," Marion said. "Marion!" Randy stomped his foot. "Thank you, Mr. Houston." Debra stood up, saying, "I'll await your message. Happy cooperation." She smiled and left the office. Randy ground his teeth. "That's eight billion! Are you out of your mind? She's Juan's wife! Why would you lend her money?" Marion grinned. "She's pretty." "Why should you get the girl while I pay?" Randy exclaimed. Marion stood up, tossed a bank card to Randy, and said, "I pursue the woman I fancy. It's only right that I foot the bill." "What? Foot the bill? She's Juan's wife! What bill are you talking about?" Randy ranted. Ignoring his protest, Marion walked out of the office. "Both of you are insane!" Randy muttered. Debra had just stepped into the Nichols family's mansion when she saw Juan sitting in the living room. She frowned. In her last life, Juan rarely came home. 'When did he become so attached to home?' Assuming he was just lounging around, she turned to go upstairs. "Debra!" Juan called out. Debra halted. "What is it?" Juan felt uneasy about Debra's recent coldness. "The auction house is pressing for payment." "I know," Debra replied coolly. "If you don't have enough money, you can tell me," Juan said. "No need. I've sorted it out," Debra said dismissively. "Where did you get the money from?" Ten billion wasn't a small amount, and Juan knew every movable asset under the Frazier family's name. She couldn't produce such a sum on short notice. "It's my business. You don't need to concern yourself," Debra replied. "Don't forget that I'm your husband," Juan said. Debra chuckled bitterly. 'Husband?' Juan always considered it a disgrace. When did he remember he was her husband? "You're so anxious because you're afraid I'll lose money and drag down the Nichols family," Debra said. Juan fell silent. Seeing his reaction, Debra knew that she had guessed right. "I won't drag you down. I understand our marriage is a business alliance. We rise and fall together. You don't have to come home often," Debra concluded. Juan was speechless. He used to think that way, so after getting married, he was cold towards Debra and didn't even touch her. But after hearing those words from Debra, he suddenly realized his excessiveness. Juan was about to say something when suddenly a remittance message came on Debra's phone. She didn't expect Marion's actions to be so fast. In just an hour, the money arrived. With the matter resolved, Debra gave a smile. Juan pursed his lips, suddenly remembering how Debra used to follow him. She showed him the same smile, but he never cared. "There's a party tonight. You're coming with me." "Me?" Debra frowned. Juan asked, "Don't want to?" "Why don't you bring Shelia with you?" Debra was puzzled. In her last life, whenever there was a banquet, Juan would take Shelia. If her memory served her right, it was an international banquet that night. She insisted on going, but Juan brought Shelia in the end, indirectly paving the way for Shelia. For such an important occasion, why would Juan suddenly think of bringing her? "You're my wife, so naturally, you should come to such occasions with me." Debra didn't get it, thinking it was only because Shelia had something else to do. Then again, she should go to such occasions more often. To start her own business, she needed connections. "Alright then, I'll go get ready." Juan breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Debra was still willing to be the nominal Mrs. Nichols. Perhaps she wasn't completely disappointed with him yet. Shelia was in the dormitory, arranging the dress sent by Juan's secretary. Her roommates looked at Shelia with envy. "Shelia, your boyfriend is so sweet, giving you such a beautiful dress." Shelia's cheeks turned rosy. "Shelia, when will you introduce us to your boyfriend?" "Yeah, your boyfriend is so rich, and he takes you to various banquets all the time. We're curious." Shelia shook her head and said, "He's very busy. I'll introduce you to him when he's available." Shelia's phone rang. Seeing that it was a call from Juan's secretary, she answered the phone happily. "Joe, did Mr. Nichols send you to pick me up? I'll come down right away," she said. "Mr. Nichols said you don't need to come today," said Joe. Chapter 5 Shelia's smile froze. "Why?" "Mr. Nichols is taking his wife tonight, so it wouldn't be convenient for you to attend." Shelia forced a smile. "Oh, so he's taking his wife. That's great. I didn't want to go anyway." "That's good." Shelia held her phone and bit her lip. Her roommates exchanged glances. "Shelia, did your boyfriend stand you up?" "I heard this event is international. Didn't your boyfriend organize it to introduce you to some foreign entrepreneurs?" Facing their skeptical looks, Shelia managed a weak smile. "He has an important client to accompany. I shouldn't disturb him." Shelia glanced at the dress in her hands, her expression dimming. 'Juan never likes Debra. Why did he suddenly...' She tightened her grip on the dress. She had looked forward to tonight's event for so long. She couldn't just give up. As the night fell, Juan had a splendid black dress sent to Debra. He had been waiting downstairs for a while when he saw Debra descending the stairs. Though he had seen Debra in a burgundy dress the other day, seeing her in this outfit still took Juan by surprise. He hadn't realized how beautiful Debra could be. "I'm ready," Debra said, lifting her head. Juan pursed his lips. "I'll have my secretary bring the car around." Debra opened the door to see Joe waiting outside. Seeing Debra in the black dress, Joe was amazed. "Mrs. Nichols, you look stunning in this dress, better than Miss Miles." Juan glanced at him. Joe realized his mistake and quickly shut his mouth. "It's okay." Debra didn't care, and she got into the car. Juan glared at Joe and muttered, "You won't get your bonus this month." Joe felt wronged but dared not say more. That was what he got for being too talkative. Outside the club, Juan helped Debra get out of the car. People around them cast admiring glances at them. "Who's the lady with Mr. Nichols?" "Seems to be Mrs. Nichols." "I don't recall seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichols together before. They make quite the power couple." ... Juan took Debra's hand. Debra wanted to retract her hand, but with so many people around, she had to go along with Juan. Debra glanced around and saw many faces she had encountered in her last life. Juan had a certain prestige in the business world. To be able to attend such a high-level international event, the people here were all top entrepreneurs, philanthropists, or real estate tycoons. Debra had studied finance to impress Juan, but it never paid off. Suddenly, the sound of shattered glass grabbed everyone's attention. A gardener accidentally broke a vase of roses, and the manager scolded him. "Where did this old man come from? Get him out of here!" the manager barked. "Hold on." Debra stepped forward, picking up the roses from the ground. She noticed they were carefully pruned and rare. "This man ruined Mr. Houston's flowers and startled the guests. Let me have him removed," said the manager. "If it's broken, just ask him to prepare a new one," Debra said. "These roses were brought by Mr. Houston for everyone's enjoyment. How about each lady take one to appreciate his gesture?" Debra suggested. Everyone nodded, and the manager waved off the gardener. Juan stepped forward, lowering his voice. "I didn't expect you to liven up the atmosphere here." Debra shrugged. "Just trying to please Mr. Houston." Outside the club, Shelia stepped out of a taxi in a black dress, feeling strange gazes around her. She ignored them and tried to get into the club. The security guard glanced at the taxi and stopped her. "Miss, do you have an invitation?" Shelia was taken aback. She didn't know about invitations. With Juan, she could go anywhere. It was the first time she had been stopped by a security guard. "Sorry! No invitation, no entry." "I'm here to see Mr. Nichols. I'm his companion," Shelia lied. Squinting at her, the guard asked, "Mr. Nichols is already inside with Mrs. Nichols. Who are you?" Feeling the stares all around, Shelia blushed with embarrassment. Joe saw her and hurried over. "Excuse me, she's our company staff." The guard nodded, allowing Shelia through. Shelia breathed a sigh of relief, but Joe asked sternly, "Miss Miles, why are you here?" "I just wanted to broaden my horizons. Mr. Nichols always said I was too timid. I'll be going abroad in a few months, so I wanted to experience this kind of event. Joe, could you take me in?" Joe hesitated. "I'll return from studying and help Mr. Nichols. The piece of land Debra bought cost billions and was a loss. She probably doesn't understand finance. So many financial elites are here. I'm worried Mrs. Nichols won't be able to handle it," Shelia pleaded sincerely. Joe nodded in agreement. In the past, it was always Shelia by Juan's side because Debra knew nothing about finance, and Joe respected Shelia, who was talented in this area. Shelia joyfully entered the club and spotted Juan conversing with some guests not far away. She lifted the hem of her dress to run over, but she accidentally collided with an old man. The gardener's vase slipped, and the water splashed on Shelia's dress. She instinctively exclaimed and freaked out when she saw the stain. "What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going?" Chapter 6 Her cry pierced through the room. All eyes, including Juan's and Debra's, turned to her. In their eyes, Shelia was a rude and uncultured woman. The old gardener bent down to pick up the scattered roses and apologized profusely. Feeling the stares around her, Shelia quickly changed her attitude. "I'm sorry. I was in haste. Are you okay, sir?" Debra watched from nearby. Even though Shelia tried to fix it, it only came off as insincere. Shelia also noticed Debra beside Juan. "How did she get here?" Juan frowned. Given his expression, he seemed clueless about Shelia's arrival. Debra wondered if Shelia came on her own. Debra stayed silent. This plot was different from that of her last life. Juan brought Shelia to the party, where Shelia impressed Caleb Houston. It led to a smooth path overseas and success after graduation with support from Juan and Caleb. Debra thought that Shelia would not show up this time. Yet here she was. "Mr. Nichols!" Hearing the commotion, Joe rushed in. Juan's tone was curt. "Who let her in?" "It was me." Joe bowed his head. "I thought Miss Miles could help you." Juan rubbed his temples. He used to be very tolerant of Shelia. But in this situation, Shelia shouldn't have appeared. "Miss Miles isn't familiar with the place. Go check on her," Debra said, taking a sip of champagne. Juan saw Shelia's scared looks, and he couldn't bear to leave her alone to handle the situation. "I'll be back in a moment." Debra said nothing. That was expected. He could never let go of Shelia. Juan went over and asked, "How did you come here?" Shelia lowered her head, looking pitiful. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see the event." Seeing her tear up, Juan couldn't bring himself to say anything harsh. In a sense, Shelia was trained by him, and he had seen all her efforts. "I'll have Joe take you back." Seeing Juan about to leave, Shelia hurriedly grabbed his sleeve. "Mr. Nichols, can I stay?" Juan frowned. In the past, Shelia was always obedient and aware of her identity, never crossing that boundary. Shelia felt his displeasure and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Nichols. I..." Juan relented in the end. "You can stay. This event could be helpful for your overseas studies." Shelia finally broke into a sweet smile. "Can I stay with you?" Juan glanced at the surrounding crowd, concerned about leaving Shelia alone here. "Yeah." Shelia was delighted. Joe couldn't help but ask, "Sir, what about Mrs. Nichols?" "Go accompany her. Don't let her cause trouble like last time." Juan knew that Debra often attended such events, but as someone unfamiliar with finance, she was here merely to pass the time. As long as she didn't cause trouble like last time, it was fine. Debra watched as Joe approached her. Before he could say anything, she asked, "He's gone to accompany Shelia?" "Miss Miles is a key candidate for the company, so..." "I understand." Debra looked as if she was not bothered at all. Joe breathed a sigh of relief. But somehow, he felt that Debra had changed. Shelia followed Juan and confidently conversed with some bigwigs, which was noticed by Debra. Although Shelia had good grades at school, she was still just a student. In front of these seasoned businessmen, what she said wasn't very insightful. They were only praising Shelia out of respect for Juan. However, soon Shelia faced difficulty with a foreign elderly gentleman. Debra recognized that man as a financial tycoon from Dawnreach. He only spoke his native language and didn't know any foreign languages. And his translator was absent. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia bit her lip, glancing at Juan. Juan was pondering how to defuse the awkwardness when Debra approached and fluently conversed with the man. The man seemed quite pleased with what Debra said and shook hands with her. Shelia finally noticed Debra, dressed in an identical black dress. Compared to her, Debra seemed like a refined lady, while she looked like a street vendor. Shelia clenched her fists and forced a smile. "Debra, that's impressive. You can speak the Dawnreach language." Debra smiled without saying anything. Juan remembered that Debra could speak foreign languages, but Dawnreach language wasn't widely used. Not many people knew it, so he was surprised that Debra was fluent in it. "What did you say to Mr. Stephen? He seemed quite pleased," Shelia asked. "I told him that the piece of land he bought near the southeastern sea is going to get a good prince, so he's happy," Debra replied. "That piece of land will get a a good price?" Shelia looked puzzled. The land didn't seem extraordinary. "Maybe," Debra replied casually. In her last life, that piece of land did get a considerable sum. The area suddenly developed into a tourist destination, making a hefty profit from tourism. Mr. Stephen probably foresaw its development, hence his purchase. Shelia lacked that foresight. Juan stared at Debra, which made her uncomfortable. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Debra asked. "How did you know that the land would get a good price?" Juan said. Chapter 7 Given his expression, Juan knew that this plot of land would fetch a hefty sum. Yet he chose to let Stephen have it as a favor. That was just Juan's style. "I was just paying a compliment. You're reading too much into it," Debra replied. Juan furrowed his brow, assessing the sincerity of Debra's words. It made sense. Given Debra's intelligence, how could she see the future value of that land? Juan realized he was overthinking it. "Hope so." Juan turned away, leading Shelia to meet other people. Shelia glanced at Debra. Debra managed to capture the hint of triumph in Shelia's eyes. She downed a glass of champagne. In the eyes of others, she was just a failed woman abandoned by her husband. Her husband left her and took another woman to meet business partners. Could anything be more of a joke than this? Debra felt disheartened. She had planned to mingle with the business elites, but with Juan gone, it became difficult. How could she approach those entrepreneurs without seeming intentional? Debra scanned the surroundings and spotted a piano not far away. A smile played on Debra's lips as she got an idea. With graceful steps, Debra approached the piano and exchanged brief greetings with the pianist before sitting down. As the heiress to the Frazier family, she had to learn many things, though she never thought she'd use them. But now they had come in handy. It had been a while since Debra played the piano, so she was a bit rusty. But soon enough, the piano keys followed her fingers, producing a melodious tune that perfectly matched the atmosphere of the party. The guests were captivated by the unexpected piano music. Many turned to look in her direction, and after she finished playing, applause filled the room. Seeing Juan and the businessmen stop their conversation, Shelia kept her eyes on Debra and said, "Debra is amazing. She can play the piano." "She is a pro," Juan remarked casually. Among these people, many could play the piano, and passing relevant exams was quite common. The fact that Debra received so much applause showed her musical talent. It was then that Shelia realized the gap between her and Debra. She used to think Debra was just lucky and pretty, but utterly useless. Now she was proven wrong. She was dead wrong. After Debra finished playing, many wealthy ladies approached her for conversation. While she couldn't directly approach those business magnates, getting close to their wives made it easier to reach them. "I didn't expect Mrs. Nichols to be so talented at the piano," Randy remarked from a corner. "Not bad," Marion agreed. "You don't know music, do you?" Randy teased. "I don't, but I like it," Marion replied. He didn't understand music, but because it was Debra playing, it felt different. When she went to the restroom, Debra was pulled into a secluded corner. She tried to cry out, but the man behind her covered her mouth. "Don't make a sound," the man whispered. Feeling the warmth of his body, Debra adjusted her breathing and bit down on the man's hand. "Ouch!" he grunted in pain. "You bit me?" The man released her. Debra quickly put some distance between them and was surprised when she saw his face. "Marion?" "Who else did you think it would be?" "Why the cloak and dagger?" "I sneaked in. Don't want to be seen." "What kind of joke is this? Caleb is your..." Before Debra could finish her sentence, she immediately shut her mouth. Marion raised an eyebrow. "Hm? What were you going to say?" Debra averted her gaze. In her last life, Caleb left all his assets to Marion. It was only after that she found out the truth. But so far, no one knew Marion was Caleb's grandson. "I mean, Caleb is kind-hearted, and you're a dominant owner of overseas enterprises. Even if you snuck in, no one would dare say anything." "Maybe, but I prefer to play it safe," Marion said. "Don't tell me you snuck in here just to say these things to me." She didn't think Marion would be so boring. "This is for you." Marion handed Debra a contract. Debra looked down and saw the contract for her borrowing. "Just for this?" she asked. Marion nodded. "Boring!" Debra signed the contract and threw it back to Marion. It was crazy that he found her to sign the contract at the door of the ladies' room. "As your creditor, can I ask you a question?" "Go ahead." "Why spend ten billion on that land?" Marion's voice was low, tempting her to answer his question. "I can't tell you now," Debra said. "What if I insist?" Marion could tell Debra had other plans. But he couldn't figure out what could be worth ten billion there. It was a loss-making business, but Debra's actions made him believe the land would be worth far more than ten billion. "If I told you this land would be worth a lot in six months, would you believe me?" Debra asked. "No." Marion couldn't see any signs of it yet. "What if I said high-end properties around that wasteland are about to come into the market?" Debra asked. "What high-end properties?" Marion frowned. He had never heard of that. "You'll find out soon enough," Debra smiled, walking past Marion into the restroom. Frowning, Marion walked to the lobby, where Randy asked, "Done signing?" "Yeah," Marion said. "Why the long face?" Randy asked. "Is there any high-end property near the wasteland Debra bought?" "There aren't any." "Check who owns the land around that wasteland." "That wasteland is in the sewage area. There's nothing to check. Forget high-end properties. No one would even build a basketball court there," Randy said. "Sewage area?" Marion was surprised. Chapter 8 Moments later, Shelia emerged from the restroom, her face looking grim. She was now dressed in a white gown. "What's wrong?" Juan asked. "I just changed in the restroom and thought I saw Debra." "Debra?" Shelia nodded. "I saw Debra with that man. They seemed intimate." Shelia observed Juan's expression and quickly added, "But I might have been mistaken. How could Debra know someone like Marion? I heard he's a desperado." "Debra..." Juan's tone turned cold. He had noticed Marion's interest in Debra last time. 'Doesn't she know how to avoid danger? Even getting close to someone like Marion.' Juan felt upset. Debra emerged from the restroom and was puzzled about Juan's dissatisfaction. "Where did you go?" Juan whispered. "Me? I went to the restroom." Debra was confused. Shelia stepped forward, pretending to be affectionate, as she grabbed Debra's hand. "Debra, I saw it just now. Marion is not a good person. Don't let him deceive you." Debra instinctively withdrew her hand. Shelia's hand hung in mid-air, and she looked aggrieved. "I didn't tell Mr. Nichols about it on purpose, but Marion is really not a good person." "I know what kind of person Marion is. I don't need others to judge," Debra huffed. "I..." Shelia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Shelia is looking out for you. Don't be oblivious and offend the wrong people," Juan warned. Shelia tugged at Juan's sleeve, as if to imply he was being too harsh. If other people saw it, they might think that Shelia was Juan's wife. "In any case, it's best not to get close to Marion. You're a woman of high standing, while he's a man without upbringing. How could you have any ties with him?" Shelia said. Suddenly, the sound of a cane hitting the ground came. Everyone turned to see an elderly man with gray hair standing in the center of the hall. Debra turned around, feeling a sense of familiarity. Soon, she recognized the old man as the gardener who had been arranging vases in the hall earlier. Now, the old man was dressed in a suit, flanked by two bodyguards. His stern gaze carried a hint of ruthlessness, making people wary. "This is Mr. Caleb Houston," one of the bodyguards introduced. Everyone in the vicinity raised their glasses respectfully to the old man. Only Shelia was pale. The old man she had scolded just now turned out to be Caleb. Shortly after, Marion emerged from behind Caleb and stood by his side, supporting him. Debra suddenly had a bad feeling. Marion looked at Debra and slowly smirked. "Ladies and gentlemen, I invited you all here today to declare that Marion is my grandson, the sole heir of the Houston family." Caleb coldly glanced at Shelia. Shelia felt a chill. "He is not some wild man without upbringing," Caleb said. Everyone in the room was astonished, and Debra's heart was pounding. 'Something is not right. The timeline has changed. How could this happen?'	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2,549,896	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549904}'	No	2024-11-27 20:00	active	1932	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 A Messy Life and the Mafia Six months ago, I was a promising med student on the verge of all my dreams coming true, but now I’m just a waitress trying to start over in a new city. I know this restaurant I work at has ties to the infamous Onyx Mafia, but I didn’t have much choice—it's the best-paying job I could find. Besides, the scariest thing about working here isn’t the Mafia, it is the man at table eight flagging me down, obviously fuming. “What looks wrong here?” He snaps and I scan table eight's orders. Foie gras for the blonde in red, Peking duck for the pouty daughter—check. But the impatient bald man tapping his fingers? He got the risotto, not the ribeye currently in front of him. A cold sweat sweeps down my spine as I look between the squinting gaze of the man and the squiggles that are my handwriting. I still write like a surgeon, yet another reminder of my failed dreams. "Wait, I'm sorry... you ordered--" My hands tremble, and my heart sinks as I realize the kitchen couldn’t decipher my handwriting and just took a guess. Lucky me, their guess was wrong. "I-I think the kitchen--" Before I can finish my sentence, Jessica descends upon us like a vulture, risotto in hand. "Apologies for the inconvenience," she chimes in, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Elise here is still learning the ropes." "I can tell," the man responds curtly, his attention entirely on Jessica, silently dismissing me. There goes my tip. "Sir, I noticed you’re drinking the 1984 Chateau. Let me send another round on the house for your troubles," Jessica offers breathlessly, her bosom on display as she leans in, her eyes batting just like they did back in high school. The man grunts in agreement as her fingers dig into my arm like talons. She whispers through clenched teeth, "Kitchen. Now." I bow my head obediently as I follow her into the chaos of the kitchen. When I moved here, I promised things were going to be different. I would be no one’s stepping stool, and yet here I am again, at the mercy of another girl who appears oblivious to the fact that we graduated high school. “Elise struck again, boys!” Tony, the sous chef, calls out, his laughter echoing through the kitchen. “What was it this time? Dropped another soup? Tripped and broke all the glasses?” In my defense, the soup incident happened because a man molested me, and Jessica tripped me while I was carrying glasses for an 18-person table. “Oh, tonight she gave one of our regulars the wrong meal.” “It’s the kitchen’s fault. I ordered a risotto, not a ribeye."I retort, pushing my glasses up as I glare at Jessica. “And who could tell with that chicken scratch handwriting?” Tony snorts. “Remember she wanted to be a surgeon,” Jessica sneers. “Doctors notoriously have terrible handwriting, but not waitresses.” The other kitchen staff snicker at her remark. They all think I went to med school and couldn’t cut it. But they don't know the truth, and it would be worse if they did. I take a deep breath, trying to push down my anger. "You were supposed to be a surgeon, marry Sirius, live your perfect little life," she snaps back, the mention of his name, Sirius, still a punch to the gut after all these years. I bite my lip to stifle the retort that threatens to spill from my lips and look down at my tennis shoes, a lump forming in my throat. I can still remember the feeling of the day he disappeared. I told everyone he loved me, that he would be back, and that he would never just leave me, but they were all right. He was gone. He didn’t want me anymore and wasn’t brave enough to say it to my face before disappearing. I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him again. It’d be a combination of running into his arms, waiting to see every bit of his life I missed, and kicking him where the sun doesn't shine. "But then you ended up at the bottom, where you’re meant to be." I hold my breath. I can’t show Jessica she’s getting to me. "Good thing Sirius came to his senses like we all knew he would," Jessica retorts. "Once he was done slumming it, he ran away from you as fast as possible. I mean, you practically ran him out of town." The lump in my throat swells as memories of his abandonment flood back, the pain still fresh. "You know what--" "Those better are words of gratitude, Elise, because I am two seconds away from firing you," Jessica interrupts, her smirk widening as she relishes in my discomfort. I swallow back my retort, facing Mr. Thompson, the restaurant manager. Mr. Thompson's stern gaze pierces through me as he approaches. "Elise, why do I have Mr. Kelsey asking for a free bottle of wine for his troubles?" "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do better, I promise." "You have been promising to do better for weeks, Elise. That is not enough anymore," he snaps. "I'll work harder, I swear," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice. "Please." Mr. Thompson holds up a hand to silence me. "You've got one more chance, Elise, but you’re out of here if I hear one more complaint. Do you understand?" I nod frantically."Yes, Mr. Thompson. I won't let you down. I promise." He scoffs, clearly unconvinced. "For the rest of your shift, you are exclusive to the VIPs upstairs," he continues, his tone stern. "They’re too drunk to notice your insolence." "Yes, sir," I whisper. "And you better be on your best behavior because the Mafia king is here," Mr. Thompson warns. "And if I don’t have your head, he will." I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach, as I nod, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Mr. Thompson storms off into his office, leaving Jessica behind me with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Looks like you're on thin ice, Elise," Jessica says, her tone dripping with faux sympathy. "Better watch your step." "Why? You’re going to trip me?" "I would never, but since you are exclusive to VIPs," Jessica hands me a tray of appetizers too heavy for me to hold without almost falling over. "Take this to table 19... the King’s subjects are there." I take a deep breath as I walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room. But as I look up at the men sitting upstairs, a wave of dread washes over me, making me want to run in the opposite direction. They're overly comfortable, as if they own the place as if they own the world. And in a way, they do. The rumors swirling around the restaurant's ownership, whispers of connections to the mafia, suddenly feel all too real. Each step closer to the VIP room feels heavier, as if I am dragging myself closer. As I approach, the men’s eyes leering over me like predators sizing up their prey. The minute I set down the appetizers, a hand grips the back of my leg, sending a shiver down my spine. "Hey there, sweetheart," the man slurs, his breath reeking of booze as he pulls me into his lap. "Why don’t you clock out and hang with the big dogs?" I squirm, feeling his hand wander where it shouldn't."No. Stop it. I have to get back to work," I protest, trying to push him away. But he only laughs, his grip tightening as his friends jeer and egg him on. I squirm, feeling something hard poking me, I begin to panic. He hisses in excitement in my ear. “Yeah, baby, keep doing that.” I try to pull away, causing my glasses to go flying. Great, now I’m blind too. I struggle with my body, tears stinging as I attempt to slide out of his lap, “I need my glasses.” “You do not need glasses for what we are going to do.” He pinches my chin, leaning in as if he is going to kiss me, but the sound of a growling, cleared throat causes him to pause. Panic rises in my throat as I realize that none of these guys will help me and that going against the Mafia for some random waitress is a losing battle. "In my restaurant, we do not tolerate harassment of women," the voice declares, cutting through the VIP, firm and unwavering. The handsy man practically throws me onto the floor as he looks up at the gentleman standing in front of him. I turn to see, in my blurry haze, the silhouette of a man looming protectively over me, his presence exuding authority and strength. The handsy man stutters as the man approaches us, “King. She approached me.” “Really? Are you calling me a liar?” The Mafia King’s voice is calm and sharp, like a shard of ice. “ No, my King, but she is a call girl!” I snap, looking back at the handsy man before turning to the King to plead my case. But I pause. The King’s head is tilted as he looks at me. The King’s voice is laced with disappointment and concern, “A call girl?” Chapter 2 Mafia King Knows Me？ “What, no!” I stand up, “I am not a call girl!” My hand instinctively reaches for my glasses, but they're not there. With a frown, I protest, glaring at the accusing handsyMafia man. “No call girl is too nice for what she does on her knees.” Jessica stands next to the stairs, arms crossed, leaning on the railing. “She solicited me. Asked me to come get her after work because she needs to make some extra money,” the handsy man pleads, but the King stares at me. Jessica saunters over, her hand casually trailing between her bosoms and up to her collarbone as she walks. She stops in front of the King, a coy smile playing on her lips as she leans close to whisper in his ear. “Think about it, darling. A woman who can get close enough to you without suspicion and weasels her way into the VIP area. Doesn’t that sound like a call girl?” The movements Jessica makes intrigue me as if she can turn on and off her alluring appeal. The King's gaze never leaves my direction as Jessica whispers in his ear. Slowly, he straightens up and pushes Jessica slightly back. “You seem to know a lot about the position of a call girl,” King says, but Jessica playfully laughs that off. “I admire how they always seem to get their way.” Gears start to turn in my mind as I squint at Jessica’s blurry form. She looks innocent and inviting, as if she is just flirting, but she is fully prepared to go much further than that. But I can see past her facade now, despite my broken glasses and the blurry world they left me in. Squinting, I can just make out the calculated way she moves and the sharpness in her eyes. I interject before Jessica can respond, “King, look at her body language. Even through the blur, she’s loose, inviting, and sensual as she speaks to you.” The King's gaze shifts from me back to Jessica, a new sense of awareness in his eyes. “When you came in here my body language was stiff, closed off. If I were a call girl like her, I wouldn’t be a good one, would I?” Jessica's facade wavers for a split second before she regains her composure, letting a seductive smile spread across her face. The King lightly chuckles as he pushes Jessica away, “It takes more than a brain full of silicone and fake bosoms to be a good call girl, but I see your point.” “It’s an act some guys like, King, a little bit of fight,” Jessica goes to reach for the King again, but he grabs her wrist tightly, his body tense. “Do not touch me again,” the King drops her hand with disgust, wiping his hand on his jeans as he continues. “ I have let you humor me with your lies, but do not treat me like a fool.” “No, King I would never,” the King gives her a humorless laugh as he invades her space menacingly. “You think you could play me for a fool because I am a man I must be ruled by my hormonal drive? Is that it?” The King looks her over in disgust and turns away, “Get out of my sight.” “King, you have to be protected from her.” Jessica approaches him again, feigning innocence, but the King’s subjects block her as he moves closer to me. “You underestimate me because I have shown you kindness. I will not make that mistake again. ” He slowly looks over at Jessica, and I can tell from how her knees buckle that she sees the darkness in his eyes. “ You're fired.” “King, I’m sorry I-” “You have three minutes to exit. I would use that time wisely.” Fear strikes across Jessica’s face as she scrambles back down the stairs. I bow my head, looking at my tennis shoes, unsure of the punishment I may receive. I don’t know how long I have been looking down, but a hand holding my broken glasses evades my eyeline. “Oh, thank you.” “They are shattered, can you see otherwise?” I shake my head, not allowing my hair to fall into my face. The King pinches my chin forcing me to look at him, and I can make out the sharpness of his jawline. His touch shoots a spark of electricity down my spine, and my breath hitches. “I will-” “I have contacts downstairs. You know, in case of emergencies.” The King looks at me as if a thousand questions are running through his mind. “Why are you working here?” I struggle back, slighting, and the King releases me. Jessica was right in a way I was supposed to be so much more. I was supposed to be a surgeon. I had the brains for it. The steady hands. The determination, but it is not often a stranger can see you are meant to be so much more than what you are. In the blur, I try to find his eyes before I respond, “Most people can’t do what they truly want to.” The King nods sharply before taking a step back and clearing his throat. “I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. They’re filled with dangerous people, and normal people shouldn’t be around them.” “You sound worried.” I laugh at the King’s warning. “I am serious, Elise. I don’t want you up here again.” The King’s voice is sharp, and I straighten at the command. “As you wish, King.” His lips in a tight line, he nods taking a small step to the right, allowing me to shimmy past him. I stop and turn around, “Thank you for everything.” He doesn’t respond, opting for a sharp nod. I walk forward, clutching my broken glasses, looking down when another figure blocks my exit. The blonde guy with an easygoing smile clears his throat as he nervously scratches the back of his head, “Hey," he says, his voice wavering slightly. "I'm sorry about what happened back there. Are you okay?" "I'll survive," I reply with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. His gaze lingers on me for a moment before he nods slowly. “Well, I was wondering if you would give me a chance to show you not everyone in the Mafia is not a pig?” I give him a small smile, feeling the heat of someone’s eyes behind me. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.” The snort causes me to turn around, and the King blends into the black leather couch, looking at me, “Boyfriend?” “A great boyfriend. If that matters?” The King coughs, “Not at all.” He looks over at a disappointed Jacob. “I just told her to steer clear of us, and you ask her out on a date in front of me.” “What shot would I have after this if you ban her?” “None. You get no chance.” The King growls, and I back up towards the stairs. “Leave now, Elise Caroline. I don’t want to see you up here again.” His warning is sharp and declarative. With a small squeak, I scurry down the stairs, but I pause before I enter the kitchen. I never introduced myself. I never told the King my name, yet he said it not once but twice, and the second time, he used my middle name. Does the Mafia King know me? Do I know him? Chapter 3 Rumors and Crisis I don’t breathe until the kitchen doors slam behind me. How does the Mafia King know my name, surely he knows all his employees' names. He may just be a great boss. Right, that’s it. The Mafia King is a great boss who would’ve thought? My breathing slows and I realize I’m so caught up in my thoughts I don’t feel the entire kitchen looking at me until Toni clears his throat. “Elise?” I look up at him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but I don’t respond. Instead, Dawn, the pastry chef, approaches me with flour-covered hands. “Hey girly, are you okay? Did the King…hurt you?” I shake my hand no, a strangled breath releases from my lips, and Dawn sighs, squeezing my cheeks. “Good because the King has no right hurting a girl as innocent as you.” “Like that would’ve been his first time!” Kelsey, the saucier, laughs in the corner of the kitchen. “Kels, you’re not helping,” Dawn snaps, but Toni approaches us wickedly. “I heard his favorite way to murder is the bloody eagle.” “Toni!” I look at Dawn’s horrified face as she runs to cover my ears. “What's the bloody eagle?” I whisper. The dread I had swimming in my gut since the King first laid eyes on me bubbles to the surface. I feel like I could vomit. “All I’m going to say is ribs pulled through the back. If you want more details, do your research online.” I would not, but Kelsey laughs, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t put it past him. The King treats his subjects like their commodities, completely replaceable. He’s the youngest King ever, and you don’t get to be King in your twenties without a trail of blood behind you.” Kelsey points her ladle at us in warning, “So watch ya’ step, or the King will gut ya’ like a fish!” “Or hang your head above his fireplace, I heard the king loves a trophy, and a pretty head like yours would be perfect.” Toni swats at my hair and Dawn pushes him back to his station. “What is all this racket?! Kelsey you’re messing around and broke the sauce!” The Head Chef, Yolanda enters the kitchen with a stern look in her eyes, “And you! Why aren’t you running my plates?” “I-I…” I rub my hands back and forth, feeling the tension of being in trouble for the third time tonight. “She just had an interaction with the King. Leave her alone.” Dawn snaps. Dawn and Yolanda are childhood best friends, and Dawn is the only one who can talk to Yolanda that way and still have her job. Yolanda’s face pales as she walks closer to me, “You interacted with the King and made it out alive? Count your lucky stars.” Yolanda approaches me cautiously and I don’t realize all the stress is forcing tears to burn in my eyes. “That man is cold-blooded like a snake.” Despite the bile I balance in the back of my throat, I look Yolanda in the eye and shake my head, “No, he protected me. He knew my name.” “He knew your name because you have a name tag on your shirt.” Yolanda flicks my name tag and I look down at it, a pang of disappointment shivering through me. “Protect you?” Dawn questions, “You didn’t say anything about the King protecting you.” “That may be worse. A dangerous man like him may like you, want you.” Yolanda whispers. My eyes widened. My skin flushes as Yolanda and Dawn share a look with each other. The King knew my name. The King wants me. I remember the way he said boyfriend as if it was the most disgusting word on his tongue. But just as I spiral, Dawn and Yolanda break into laughter. “Girl, bless your heart! A man that fine wants you. You better be over the moon happy.” Dawn lightly hits her rag on my right arm, and I flinch, holding my breath. “I mean, those gray eyes are just delicious!” Kelsey chimes in. “Nope, it has to be black curly hair.” Those eyes, that hair remind me of Sirius. His eyes could be a storm with everyone else and clear with me. How a single curl always danced in the middle of his forehead, and I’d spend all day pushing it back. The days when he was my Sirius. The laughter snaps me out of my daze. “I bet he wakes up with his hair like that, just messy and perfect!” “Yolanda, I don’t know if you want to be him or sleep with him?” “Does it matter?” The entire kitchen erupts into laughter. “I would take him any way I could get him. He is so fine!” “So how did he look up close, Elise? A walking daydream, huh?” Kelsey leans over her pot, wiggling her eyebrows. I hide my head slightly, blush to creep up the apple of my cheeks. “I don’t know,” I show the kitchen my glasses. “I broke my glasses. All I could see was tall, charming, and hot.” The entire kitchen boos. “You get close to the Mafia King, and your glasses break!” Dawn pouts, pushing me away, and I giggle for the first time in this entire situation. “Sorry, I can’t tell you how hot he is. You’re going to have to figure that out yourselves!” “Hey! Why is no one helping me out on the floor?” An upset waiter enters the kitchen looking around at us. “I’ll be right there, just let me get my contacts.” I head towards the break room and rummage inside my purse, revealing my contact lenses. I begin to replace my contacts, looking into the crappy workplace mirror, but once my vision is clear, all I can see is my missing earring. One of my silver earrings from Sirius, he got me for our last anniversary together. He’s already missing. I can lose the last thing he’s ever given me. I look over at the floor near my locker, but I know where it is. It’s in the VIP area. I turn on my heel towards the VIP area. The Mafia King's warning echoed in my mind, I don’t want you in the VIP rooms anymore. It’s filled with the type of dangerous people, normal people shouldn’t be around.” I push his warning into the back of my mind. With a deep breath, I start walking up the stairs. I’ll be quick! In and out before anyone notices. As I enter the VIP area, I immediately fall to my knees, crawling around for the earring and hiding from the boisterous men laughing around the bar. I freeze when the King’s voice booms through the area, “You’re lucky I don’t collect your freaking head!” The music in the VIP clicks off. “Boss, it was just a girl!” The man snaps back and the entire area seems to hold their breath as the twinkle of something catches my eye. “A girl under my protection. The same way you are under my protection.” The King's voice is even and controlled again, “And don’t I always protect mine?” I contort my body, grabbing the dangled earring from underneath the couch. “Let me provide you with this small mercy. I promise you the alternative is lethal, and it would be a shame to murder you when you’re still useful to me.” The club music clicks back on as if nothing happened. I sit up on the floor, fixing the earring in my ear. When the footsteps descend towards me. I am not quick enough when I hear the humorless laughter of the handsy man, “You are the freaking pain of my existence. I’m on grunt duty because of you.” I look up, my eyes darting between him and the stairs. If I jump up and run. I should make it. I will make it. I propel myself off the floor, running towards the stairs, but the handsy man is quicker. He pulls me back by my hair, caging me in. My breath hitches as cold metal digs into my side. His breath gushes over my face in puffs thick with the scent of tobacco and gin. “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” Chapter 4 The Mafia King is My Ex? “ Go on and scream. No one will hear you, and it’ll only make this more fun for me.” His fingernails dig into my wrist, but I bite back any response watching his nostrils flare. “You got me suspended from duties because you rather spread your legs for the King than me.” He pulls me against him, snarling at my confident facade. I look down at the mark forming on my wrist, keeping my voice as even as possible, I say, “I do not want the King. I do not know the King.” He pushes me against the brick wall, and with my better judgment, I whimper, gripping the back of my head, “You dare lie to me? After all you have done, you freaking lie to me?” Spit sprays over my face, his eyes bulge out of his head as he holds me against the wall. The concrete dug into my skin. “Please,” I whisper. “Please?! Please! You purposefully lead me to the freaking slaughter, shaking your tight body for the king, begging him to punish me for your fault.” His wet breath drips down my face, and I look away towards the hallway leading to the King. I didn’t know the King. He did not need to come to my rescue, yet he did. Maybe the King liked me the way Dawn said, but what did it matter? I did not want him. “I am not sorry you were punished. I said no.” “Oh, so this is the little game we’re going to play? You say no, and mean yes.” A greedy, devious smile spread across the man's lips as if the idea of conquering me in such a manner excited him. “You little freaking tease.” His palm digs into my waist, and my eyes water over, straining to look down the hallway to the King. “No.” “You like causing trouble, huh? You like luring men in to watch them. ” I hear the click of his belt, a dooming sound. “You need to be taught a lesson, and I love punishing little girls with fresh mouths.” A voice and the click of a door opening cut the tension. “Boss, who even was she?” He pulls me into a corner. He pulls me in front of him and presses himself on me. His gun is tucked under my chin, and his arm is wrapped around my waist as he whispers in my ear, “Don’t make a freaking sound.” I watch the King walk down the hallway, most of his subjects a step or two behind him. The young member with dirty brown hair and colorful tattoos walks almost in step with him. The King’s voice almost sounds bored as he responds. “That is none of your concern, Taylor.” “You punished one of your own men for her. I think you owe us an explanation.” Taylor snaps, stopping the King in his steps. “Owe?” He slowly turns, and I can see the King’s face clearly through a sliver of light. The girls downstairs didn’t do him any justice. He was breathtaking. Dressed in a tailored black suit, the fabric stretched taut over his muscular frame, his white button-up exposed the tattoo in swirling patterns on his chest and up part of his neck. His curly black hair was gelled back into a style of sorts, but two unruly curls escaped and framed his face. His eyes swirled like a storm, erupting and flashing between the calming gray and black. He looked almost like a tortured angel. He almost looks like Sirius. “You think I owe you?” The King snarls at Taylor, who instantly turns pale. “N-no, I just mean-” “You just mean I should allow subordinates to run rampant to assault and pillage like average thugs.” “Sir it just seemed like you cared about the girl too much.” “What I choose to care and not care about is none of your freaking business, but Dan was punished for lying to me,” The King leans in closer, “ I was feeling gracious, so he was given a slap on the wrist, next time I will cut out his tongue. But my kindness has expired.” “King.” Desperation drips in the boy’s tone, but the King dismisses him with the flick of his wrist, and a man drags Taylor away. “Step foot in my territory again, and you will be destroyed on sight.” The King continues walking forward as if he did not send someone to their death, but the gasp that escapes my lips makes him pause. “Dan?” The handsy man behind me shifts, a grunt escaping his throat. Then a shot rang out, something sliced through the air, and Dan shrieked, falling to his knees. “I show you kindness, and this is how you repay me?” The King’s voice is deathly low as he approaches, and I dare not move. I dare not breathe. “The call girl freaking deserves it.” A low rumble of laughter escapes the King, lowering himself over a bleeding Dan. He pushes the barrel of the gun into the wound in his shoulder. “You are freaking mad, murdering innocents just because they won’t sleep with you?” The King pistol whips Dan into the floor, and a strangled sound fills the room. Dan spits onto the floor. “This is the thanks I get for letting you keep your life?” “My King, she seduced me-” The King grips him by the collar dragging him close. “You think it is wise to lie again?” Dan audibly swallows, a whimper escaping his lips. The King snaps his finger, and a buff, bald man with the word mercy over his knuckles comes up behind him. “Yes, boss?” “I want his tongue and right hand.” With a curt nod, the man grips Dan by his injured shoulder and drags him deeper into the VIP area. “I thought I told you not to come back in here.” The King looks in the direction of a weeping, sounding annoyed. I slowly at the King from the corner of my eye, my mouth completely dry and my hands feverishly shaking. The scars on the King’s face glitter in the low lighting making my stomach twist, so I focus on the silver, twisted ring on his ring finger. It looks almost like tree branches gripping his skin. “I-I left something here.” “What?” His empty grey eyes lock on me. “An earring.” A short grunt leaves his lips, “You risked your life for an earring?” “It’s sentimental.” I whisper, narrowing my eyes closer to the ring, recognizing the red ruby in the center of a rose, and I almost choke, drilling my eyes into his, “Sirius?!” Chapter 5 An Unexpected Reunion “Sirius?!” My heart is practically beating out of my chest. I can’t breathe, staring into his eyes, I know. I know it’s him. He turns to me a blank look on his face. The silence in the room creeps over me, and I slowly look around the room. Every mafia member is staring at me, with tension in their necks, awaiting the command of their king. I almost believe I’ve misspoken as I watch the King’s jaw click. “Elise.” “Oh my god!” I take a step back, looking him over. He looks just like he did in high school, but buffed up and toned, no longer lean and boyish. He’s a full man now. “When I told you to stay away from here, I meant it. Earring or not.” “These were…you cannot tell me what to do, Sirius.” He tilts his head to the side, looking me over. “You gave these to me…before you…” “I know, earring or not. Do not come back up here. Stay away from the mafia.” His voice is ice-cold and distant. He starts to walk away from me, and I almost leap out of my skin following him. “Do not speak to me like that, not after what you did. You abandoned me, and now you dismiss me.” “We both know what really happened back then, don’t act like you don’t know. Do not make me into some villain.” “No, but you are heartless. You leave without a word. You disappear, then you come back and ignore me as if we were nothing. As if you didn’t even—” My words get caught in my chest as if I am about to cry, but Sirius turns sharply towards me, heat rising in his eyes. “Once. I had a heart once, but now when I tell you to do something, you listen, Elise, and that’s final.” Sirius speaks lowly in my face, his voice feathers over me. “Now leave.” My eyes cannot help but flicker at his lips, but I immediately take a step back when he licks them. “No. Just because you say jump, d-does not mean I have to follow, Sirius.” I can hear the click of a gun, and Sirius doesn’t even move as he watches my actions. I raise my hands up and grit my teeth, “I guess you won’t even let me say thank you before murdering me, huh? ” “Lower your weapons, no one is allowed to point a gun at her ever.” I put my hands down slowly, my anger and grief swirling into panic as he turns to leave again. “If I mean so little to you, why are you still wearing your ring?” The branching ring with a single ruby was part of a promise ring set Sirius and I had brought when we were silly and in love. My ring is in my jewelry bag, hidden so Alston won’t find it and ask questions. “For sentimental reasons. I engraved it with something to remind me of the past.” He looks down at the ring longingly before snapping his eyes to my hands. “Where is your ring?” “I lost it years ago.” I don’t know why I lie or what I try to hide, but I know I can’t let him think anything can happen between us. He just nods sharply, not letting any emotions pass over his face. A throat clears in the background, and the tension in the room deflates slightly at the fakely bubbly voice of Mr. Thompson. He stands between Sirius and me a sharp look in his eyes. “Is everything okay here?” “Just a conversation,” Sirius responds evenly, his eyes not leaving mine. Mr.Thompson gives an empty chuckle, “Ah yes, I had to have a conversation with this employee multiple times. She is lazy. She constantly elicits complaints for her promiscuity and irresponsible nature.” He turns to me, hard eyes in his eyes, raising his voice, “Elise, I told you one more time.” “Mr.Thompson, this isn’t what it looks.” I begin, but he puts a hand in my face silencing me. “No, no, the time has come Elise you have embarrassed yourself in front of the King. You have constantly caused problems. You are the most terrible waitress I have ever had the displeasure of managing--” Sirius clocks his gun, placing the barrel against the back of Mr.Thompson’s head and he freezes. “No, no, continue your rant with a gun to your head.” “Sir, I was just firing insubordinate who was causing you trouble.” Mr.Thompson raises his hands up shakily. “Do you think of me as a damsel in need of saving, Thompson?” “Absolutely not sir.” “So why would I need you to come to my rescue?” “Sir, she has been a terrible employee, and I think--” “I do not care what you think. One more insult at her, and I am blowing your freaking brain across this room, understand?” Mr.Thompson nods slowly. “Good.” Sirius puts his gun away, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Is this what you do all day? Threaten people’s lives?” “No normally I am not protecting my ex-girlfriend.” Sirius tucks the gun in his waistband, shrugging at Elise. “Where even is he?” “What are you talking about, Sirius?” He walks closer to me a teasing smile on his lips. “Where is your boyfriend? Why is he not here to step in during every crisis, like I am?” Sirius stands a breath away from me, and from his tone, I can tell he is taunting me, that he wants a rise out of me. For a second, I want to smile at his boyish ways. His jealousy-fueled mockery reminds me of my Sirius. “My relationship with Alston has nothing to do with you!” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes dip to my chest, but his eyes narrow, looking at me just as quickly. “I thought you were dating my brother Lester?” “No, he is like a brother to me.” He chuckles. “It would destroy him to hear you say that.” “Why would you think I was with Lester?” “I never would have guessed Alston because he is such a good guy. Taking down major corporations, defending the little guy. I thought you liked your guys with a little edge to them.” Sirius shrugs, a carefree look in his eyes. “You used to be a good guy.” Sirius flashes his million-dollar smile that makes my knees weaken. “I was never a good guy, you just always saw the good in me.” Sirius’s voice is barely above a whisper, causing shivers down my spine. Alston was good. After Sirius went missing, Alston pursued me and when Lester was severely injured, Alston was the one who gathered most of the money for the medical expenses. His good deeds made me fall for him. He was always saving the day, and knowing that he was my personal superhero made me feel secure, supported, and loved. Most importantly, I never felt like he would abandon me. “I agreed to be his girlfriend because he makes me feel safe, Sirius, physically and emotionally.” Sirius’s eyes widen and the careless smile on his face fizzles out. I want to reach up and cup his face. I want to tell him that despite moving on he was my first, I have never been crazy, or foolish in love with anyone else. It’s only been him. “Thompson, leave.” Sirius doesn’t break eye contact with me as Mr.Thompson scurries to leave, but before he can make his grand escape, “I want your office cleared out by the morning.” “What?” Mr.Thompson slows, looking over his shoulder, shock across his face. “Elise will be the new owner, effective in the morning.” Simultaneously Mr.Thompson and I both look at Sirius as if he has lost his mind, screaming, “What? Why?” “Because Alston is not the only person who can make you feel safe, Elise.”	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12158&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12158&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/t39.35426-6/449044422_1575931366327027_957907443075673983_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Exgt8sVIjXkQ7kNvgG1QWVI&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhNBZbqfaBVHWZ3oPW52AXv&oh=00_AYClirx0rGVaEn6M71-gnNZoDmv9iL5ZJXDjdEuj4FJBmA&oe=674DA02D	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,549,417	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549680}'	No	2024-11-27 19:57	active	1932	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Haley hadn't seen her husband William for a week and when she finally called him in the evening he seemed annoyed. "I have a meeting now. Excuse me." He brushed hang up the phone before she could say a word. Haley felt a little disappointed since tonight marked their third anniversary. Anyway, she decided to stay awake until he got home. Bored, she picked up her phone, checking into her tiktok to kil-l time. Just then, a piece of news popped up, featuring NK Enterprise, her husband's company. Excited, Haley tapped into the news; "William Nash, Famous CEO of NK Enterprise, Checks Into Hotel With his Mystery Girlfriend, Relationship Revealed" Her William? Haley's eyes glued to her phone's screen, shock and disbelief taking over when she saw the image of her husband entering the Hotel, his arm snaked around a woman's waist. Haley couldn’t believe her husband was with a woman. She must be mistaken. Sinking in confusion was pointless. Haley dialed his number. On her third trial, he finally picked up. “What's up?” he asked coldly. Haley inhaled deeply, controlling her emotions. “Liam, where are you? Today's our 3rd anniversary, remember?” “So?” he said through his careless tone, “Not coming home. Sleep by yourself.” His voice holding no remorse, a gut-wrenching punch to her pride. Just then, a female voice, soft and seductive, came on the phone. “Willy, I'm thirsty.” Willy? Even Haley wasn't allowed to call him that. He truly was with a woman! The phone beeped. He hung up the call. Haley sank onto the bed, her thoughts spinning and that voice echoing. It was Leah! Liam’s secretary who looked a lot like his Ex. Dazed, Haley's gaze fell on the decorations; her hard work. Tears blurred Haley's vision. Suddenly, a message notification appeared. [I'm pre-gnant. It's time for me to become the new Mrs. Nash.] Haley gripped the phone, her body trembling. It was from Leah. She'd been having second thoughts whenever she wanted to leave the man, but now she gave up her last hope. Haley stood up and retrieved the document she'd hidden in a corner of the closet and signed her name on it. Tears that reminded her of how weak and helpless she'd reduced herself to all in this marriage. Never again.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	847	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&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/t39.35426-6/449335891_1536775250241262_1480358716061670696_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2iZ3DRX2S1cQ7kNvgGVoSYt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AhnkaDtxkzfIpsvIYxt31RJ&oh=00_AYDDdjJgM0hvJ_Q-zd613GHdsHq3WMMNKq8gn41FeyrWhw&oe=674DA997	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,548,075	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547544}'	No	2024-11-27 19:47	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Carissa Sinclair stared at the hypocritical man before her, his heartfelt promises still echoing in her ears. At the time of her husband's departure for battle, she used her dowry to support the household and care for her in-laws. In the end, however, she was met with betrayal; Barrett Warren used his military achievements to request the king's permission to take another legitimate wife, placing her on equal footing with him. She was the Marquis of Northwatch's daughter, and she herself was also highly skilled in martial arts. After her family was destroyed, she had no choice but to marry a good husband as her mother had wished, learning to be obedient and manage household affairs to put her mother at ease. But the man before her was no virtuous partner. Barrett's handsome face bore a hint of apology, yet his words were resolute, "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for this marriage. Aurora will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Despite feeling a mix of disgust and unwillingness, she still asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict. Besides, Aurora is straightforward, cheerful, and lovable. She visited my mother a while ago." They agreed? Hah... How ironic! All her sincere efforts over the past year turned out to be feeding a dog. "Carissa, when I married you, I didn't understand love. I thought you were a suitable match for a wife until I met Rory." Talking about the woman he loved, his eyes softened and filled with deep affection. He turned back to Carissa and added, "She's unlike any woman I've ever met. I love her deeply. I hope you'll agree to this." Carissa curled her lips in a faint smile; beneath her seemingly teary eyes gleamed a sharp, fierce determination, "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need for that. Carissa, she's different from any woman you know. She's a general, and she's above the usual household squabbles. She wouldn't want to meet you," Barrett refused instantly. Carissa retorted, "What kind of women do I know? What kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of a noble family. My father and my six brothers died on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That's them," Barrett interrupted. "But you're a delicate woman suited for the comforts of home. Aurora has no respect for such women. She's straightforward and unrestrained. If she meets you, she might say things you won't like. Why put yourself through that?" As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under the corner of her eye became more evident in the light. She calmly said, "It's fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I'll ignore it. Understanding the bigger picture and acting with dignity are essential virtues for any matriarch. Don't you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. "Why put yourself through this? There was a royal edict for this marriage. Even when Aurora moves in, you'll be in separate wings. She won't compete with you for control of the household. She doesn't care about those things." "Do you really think I'm attached to managing this household?" Carissa countered. Running this mansion was no easy task. Just the monthly medicine for Barrett's mother cost dozens of silver coins. Then, there was food, clothing, and social obligations—all these things required money. This household was practically a hollow shell. Over the past year, Carissa had used much of her dowry to keep things running. And this was her reward. "Enough, I won't argue with you. I just needed to inform you. Whether you agree or not changes nothing," said Barrett, his patience wearing thin. Carissa watched him leave in a huff, feeling even more the irony in her heart. "My lady, my lord was too much!" said Lulu, Carissa's maid, wiping her tears away. "Don't call him that!" Carissa gave her a stern look. "We never consummated the marriage. He's not your lord." "Help me get ready; we're going to the royal palace." "What do we need to go to the royal palace for... Oh! Are you asking the king to revoke the decree?" Lulu asked innocently, tilting her head. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. "Silly girl, is it worth it for us to continue wasting our youth on someone like that?" Lulu covered her forehead and exclaimed, "Then why are we going to the palace?" "Of course, to seek a decree for divorce." Barrett Warren could leverage his achievements to request a marriage from the king, and she, Carissa Sinclair, could also use the military merits of the Marquis' family of Northwatch to request an edict for an amicable divorce. Since her husband's heart no longer belongs to her, why should she cling on? As for the substantial dowry she had given over the years, there's no reason to let this heartless family benefit from it for free. She will reclaim every single cent. With clear brows and resolute expression, Carissa Sinclair's gentle face radiated unwavering determination......	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463979086_1249620329511298_7952432189440379201_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=D6bG6eHvsPwQ7kNvgG6_hhZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYDKAZoWIsG2GryjS6MDLy8tVzqHnH8nG4Bf_E9x2rly_A&oe=674D8146	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,549,231	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549232}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:56	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	Lily POV After my mother slapped me and pushed me down the stairs on the morning of my sister Stephanie's death memorial, I fell unconscious, but the moment I woke up, I was in Stepahnie's memorial while my fated mate Alpha James mind-linked me, "Little Mate, don't you want to know who spent the night in my bedroom last night?" James smirked at me. This is his revenge for Stephanie, his late girlfriend. "You deserve this. Vile murderer! That's how you pay for causing my girlfriend's death!" He roared at me the other day by the waterfall when we found each other to be fated mates. My dead sister's boyfriend and I. What a joke the Moon Goddess plays. But I will not sit idly when the betrayal pains were about to rip my heart apart. "I, Lily Borgen, reject you Alpha James!" I snarled back. ... James POV It's been a few months since I accepted Lily rejection and she ran away from the pack. Regrets are the only thing I ever feel these days. I love her, she is my fated mate! For god's sake. Dr. Hyden from the neighboring pack brought me the information of Lily. Thank godness, she is alive! But she won't come back to the pack that has tortured her for years. "Son, I am sorry for what happened between you and Lily. But you need to move on." My mother comforted me,"Maybe it's a good idea to have another woman to be by your side." I know what she meant. "Mom, I couldn't forget Lily. Please stop this. I was so wrong to her." Thinking back how I bullied her and punished her by sleeping with othe women, my heart ached. "Actually, I have a question for you." Suddenly, I became suspicious of why my mother was so keen on my moving on. "Did you know how Stephanie really die?" An unprecedented terror appeared on her face.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	847	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/454354541_1623250035121587_2159191077544399873_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ZuhfOt_tTq0Q7kNvgFXYIrk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Af23-rKL631B8dzdaqSIXfz&oh=00_AYD-FbYMM3e55MuLXcgcm3WJUZYt1mSu9NUrR081E8HgPg&oe=674D8840	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,548,164	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547544}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:47	active	1932	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	LEARN_MORE	https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	320	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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/t39.35426-6/463384564_1258191665321352_3920804691950976922_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PympDryauXYQ7kNvgHEdwvG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AtpEgswe-VmqA1VeMste4cy&oh=00_AYDKuirdP86xMtolOXkgzGGq7mBqaclrm_4N4HG62EozhQ&oe=674DA515	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,549,128	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2549680}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:55	active	1932	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Haley hadn't seen her husband William for a week and when she finally called him in the evening he seemed annoyed. "I have a meeting now. Excuse me." He brushed hang up the phone before she could say a word. Haley felt a little disappointed since tonight marked their third anniversary. Anyway, she decided to stay awake until he got home. Bored, she picked up her phone, checking into her tiktok to kil-l time. Just then, a piece of news popped up, featuring NK Enterprise, her husband's company. Excited, Haley tapped into the news; "William Nash, Famous CEO of NK Enterprise, Checks Into Hotel With his Mystery Girlfriend, Relationship Revealed" Her William? Haley's eyes glued to her phone's screen, shock and disbelief taking over when she saw the image of her husband entering the Hotel, his arm snaked around a woman's waist. Haley couldn’t believe her husband was with a woman. She must be mistaken. Sinking in confusion was pointless. Haley dialed his number. On her third trial, he finally picked up. “What's up?” he asked coldly. Haley inhaled deeply, controlling her emotions. “Liam, where are you? Today's our 3rd anniversary, remember?” “So?” he said through his careless tone, “Not coming home. Sleep by yourself.” His voice holding no remorse, a gut-wrenching punch to her pride. Just then, a female voice, soft and seductive, came on the phone. “Willy, I'm thirsty.” Willy? Even Haley wasn't allowed to call him that. He truly was with a woman! The phone beeped. He hung up the call. Haley sank onto the bed, her thoughts spinning and that voice echoing. It was Leah! Liam’s secretary who looked a lot like his Ex. Dazed, Haley's gaze fell on the decorations; her hard work. Tears blurred Haley's vision. Suddenly, a message notification appeared. [I'm pre-gnant. It's time for me to become the new Mrs. Nash.] Haley gripped the phone, her body trembling. It was from Leah. She'd been having second thoughts whenever she wanted to leave the man, but now she gave up her last hope. Haley stood up and retrieved the document she'd hidden in a corner of the closet and signed her name on it. Tears that reminded her of how weak and helpless she'd reduced herself to all in this marriage. Never again.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	847	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12277&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/t39.35426-6/449112626_2219626285038260_1025497497506439918_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=29T70gZYhZYQ7kNvgFqtFXC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AF4pVYTHvJgVpZhIbhU6fDg&oh=00_AYAT9cMtkonV2Ak53WlUQtlbF-Q2OcdRzt4uqzn736gI7A&oe=674D96EE	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,548,690	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-11-27 19:52	active	1932	Читать следующую главу👉	Когда она узнала, что незнакомый мужчина, с которым она провела свою первую брачную ночь, оказался ее законным мужем по договоренности, она сошла с ума! ===== Камилла Петрова сегодня вышла замуж. К несчастью для неё, жениха нигде не было видно. Она оглядела пустую комнату, и её лицо стало белым, словно простыня. Она чувствовала себя совершенно униженной. Камилла не желала терпеть это оскорбление! Но что она могла поделать? С самого рождения все аспекты её жизни контролировались другими людьми. Само собой разумеется, это касалось и её замужества. Камиллу принудил к этому союзу отец, человек, которым управляла жадность. Её дедушка работал шофёром у Родиона Новикова, главы могущественной семьи Новиковых. По досадной случайности они попали в ужасную аварию, в которой дед Камиллы погиб, спасая Родиона. В последние месяцы небольшая компания, которой управляла её семья, везде и всюду погрязла в огромных долгах. Они находились на грани банкротства. Несмотря на это, её хитрый отец отказался просить помощи у семьи Новиковых, зная, что это отменит долг, который они должны были семье Петровых. Вместо этого он придумал план, согласно которому внук Родиона, Виталий Новиков, женится на Камилле. Учитывая богатство семьи Новиковых, они были уверены, что те дадут большие деньги в обмен на руку и сердце Камиллы. И, в качестве дополнительного бонуса, они, наконец, установили бы более прочную связь с семьёй Новиковых, которая была бы законно скреплена. Разумеется, семья Новиковых не могла позволить себе отказаться от этого предложения, иначе они рисковали потерять лицо в том или ином случае. Виталий решил выразить своё недовольство всем этим, не явившись на банкет, хотя на нём не присутствовало никого, кроме членов семей. Он также отказал Камилле в использовании фамилии Новиковых и запретил ей говорить людям, что она его жена. На протяжении всего этого, от начала и до конца, никто не потрудился спросить мнение самой Камиллы. Сейчас она стоит с прямой спиной и расправленными плечами. Её ресницы, возможно, слегка дрожали, но в глазах читалось упрямство. Она не собиралась поддаваться унижению. Но как ей следует поступить? В то время, когда девушка размышляла о том, как проведёт первую брачную ночь, она получила сообщение от одной из своих коллег. Женщина просила Камиллу подменить её на ночной смене. Та не стала долго раздумывать. Она вышла из зала и вызвала такси, чтобы отправиться в больницу. Мгновением позже она оказалась в комнате отдыха персонала больницы, проверяя записи пациентов, а её вечернее платье давно сменилось белым лабораторным халатом. Внезапно дверь с громким стуком распахнулась с внешней стороны и ударилась о стену. Не успела Камилла поднять глаза, чтобы взглянуть, что происходит, как дверь снова захлопнулась. Затем она услышала щелчок выключателя, и в помещении стало темно. По её спине пробежал холодок. «Кто...» Не успела она договорить, как её толкнули на стол. Куча канцелярских принадлежностей упала на пол, и в этот момент она почувствовала, как к её шее прижался холодный острый кай нжа. «Тихо!» - свирепо прошептал нападавший. Девушка едва могла разглядеть лицо мужчины, хотя его глаза выделялись. Они мерцали в тусклом свете, его взгляд был полон бдительности. В воздухе вокруг них витал знакомый запах железа, и она поняла, что этот человек ранен. Благодаря многолетнему обучению и опыту врача, Камилла смогла сохранить спокойствие. Затем она медленно согнула одну ногу, планируя атаковать мужчину коленом. Но тот видел её насквозь. Как только он почувствовал её движение, то с силой сжал её ноги вместе и прижал к столу своими мощными бёдрами. Вдруг в коридоре послышался шум шагов. Они направлялись прямо в комнату отдыха персонала. «Быстрее, я видела, как он шёл сюда!» Достаточно было одного крика о помощи, и эти люди ворвались бы в комнату. Отчаявшись, мужчина опустил голову и по*ловал Камиллу. Она стала бороться и была удивлена тем, что смогла легко оттолкнуть его. Тем более, что мужчина больше не угрожал ей нжом. Мысли девушки заметались. В этот момент тот, кто находился по ту сторону двери, схватился за ручку. Приняв решение, Камилла притянула мужчину к себе и обвила руками его шею. На этот раз она половала его. «Я могу вам помочь», - пробормотала она под нос, надеясь, что её страх не был заметен. Мужчина шумно сглотнул. Ему потребовалась секунда, чтобы принять решение, затем она почувствовала его горячее дыхание у своего уха: «Я возьму на себя ответственность за это». Его голос был низким и притягательным. Но он, похоже, неправильно понял. Она хотела, чтобы всё это было притворством. Он не должен был ни за что брать ответственность. В следующую секунду дверь снова распахнулась. Камилла и мужчина тут же слились в очередном полуе. Несмотря на их затруднительное положение, мужчина обнаружил, что его тело среагировало на звук. Он мог бы потеряться в нём, если бы люди за дверью не заговорили. «Чрт взьми! Да это же просто цующаяся парочка. Чувак, они и вправду занимаются этим в больнице. Имейте хоть немного приличия!» Свет из коридора проникал в комнату, обнажая пару. Однако тело мужчины было обхвачено Камиллой, скрывая его лицо от любопытных глаз незваных гостей. «Что ж, это точно не Виталий. Этот ублюдок тяжело ранен. Неважно, насколько соблазнительна женщина, я сомневаюсь, что у него хватит сил сделать с ней что-нибудь». «Но, чувак, эта женщина издаёт довольно приятные звуки, а?» «Заткнись и пошевеливайся! Нам нужно найти Виталия как можно скорее, иначе мы потеряем головы!» Послышался шорох и топот ног, и мужчины бросились прочь, а дверь вернулась в своё исходное положение. Мужчина знал, что его преследователи ушли, но осознание того, что теперь они остались одни, подействовало на его самообладание. Он просто сорвался, и неожиданная волна поти захлестнула его. Этот поток же*ния не обошёл стороной и Камиллу. Возможно, дело было в их близости, или в том, как интимно они касались друг друга, а может быть, во внезапном приливе адреналина, но на поверхность поднялась бунтарская жилка, о которой она даже не подозревала. До этого момента девушка жила серой однообразной жизнью, всегда подчиняясь правилам и планам, установленным для неё другими. На этот раз - хотя бы раз - она собиралась побаловать себя. Девушка отбросила свои запреты и предоставила мужчине свободу действий, чтобы он делал всё, что захочет. Когда они закончили, мужчина нежно поцеловал её в щёку. «Я приду за тобой», - прошептал он, в его голосе всё ещё слышались отголоски наслаждения. А затем он ушёл, так же внезапно, как и пришёл. Прошло немало времени, прежде чем Камилла смогла подняться на ноги. Тишину в комнате нарушил звонок её телефона. Она огляделась и обнаружила, что он лежит на краю стола. Камилла схватила телефон, пока он не упал, и нажала на кнопку ответа. «Доктор! - раздался взволнованный голос. -В центр неотложной помощи только что привезли пациента. Он попал в аварию и получил серьёзные травмы. Нам нужно, чтобы вы немедленно оказали ему помощь!» Камилла прочистила горло, чтобы голос звучал ровно: «Хорошо, я буду через минуту». Она положила трубку и направилась к двери, но остановилась на пороге. Она оглядела себя. Она и вправду занялась сксом с незнакомцем в свою брачную ночь. Это был самый возмутительный поступок в её жизни! Но сейчас было не время праздновать свой поступок или размышлять о его последствиях. Камилла привела себя в порядок и отправилась в центр экстренной помощи. Весь остаток ночи она была занята работой. Когда она наконец освободилась, уже близился рассвет. Вернувшись в комнату отдыха персонала, она обнаружила, что в комнате было всё так же грязно. Руки девушки сжались в кулаки, а в голове пронеслись воспоминания о бурном прошлой ночью. «Спасибо, что подменила меня, доктор Петрова», - коллега Камиллы, Яна Агафонова, вошла с благодарной улыбкой. Та выдавила из себя улыбку: «Пожалуйста». «Дальше я справлюсь сама. Тебе следует вернуться и немного отдохнуть, - Яна посмотрела на бумаги, разбросанные по полу, и приподняла брови. - Что здесь произошло? Почему всё валяется на полу?» Камила в панике отвела глаза и ответила: «Ой, я случайно уронила их. Пожалуйста, приберись здесь. Я устала, поэтому пойду». Яне показался странным ответ Камиллы, но она не придала этому значения. Они попрощались, и женщина принялась собирать разбросанные вещи. Она едва успела начать, как в дверях появился сам директор больницы, а за ним - помощник Виталия. Глава 2 Чувство вины «Это врач, дежурившая вчера вечером, - сказал директор больницы. - Доктор Яна Агафонова». Ассистент Виталия, Денис Орлов, вошёл в комнату и посмотрел на табличку с именем на лабораторном халате Яны. «Пойдёмте со мной». Яна была в замешательстве. «Куда мы идём?» Но директор больницы не захотел отвечать на её вопрос. Он с силой потянул её за руку и сказал: «Просто пойдёмте. Не заставляйте господина Новикова ждать». Вскоре она оказалась в кабинете директора больницы. Виталий сидел на диване, его худощавое и мускулистое тело откинулось назад в непринуждённой позе, а длинные ноги были скрещены перед ним. Нужно было иметь острый глаз и присмотреться повнимательнее, чтобы понять, что его губы были бледнее обычного. К счастью, резкий запах дезинфицирующего средства, которым были пропитаны стены больницы, скрывал запах кви на его коже. Он был одет в чистый чёрный костюм, который также помог скрыть красные пятна, в противном случае встревожившие бы всех окружающих. В его выражении лица чувствовалась жёсткость, которая так и говорила, будто он побывал в самом аду, и что с ним не стоит шутить. Денис подошёл к дивану и наклонился поближе, чтобы прошептать Виталию на ухо: «Видеозаписи с камер наблюдения прошлой ночи были намеренно подделаны, скорее всего, это сделали ваши нападавшие. Они подчистили следы и убрали все возможные улики. Это доктор Яна Агафонова, дежурившая прошлой ночью. Директор больницы сам подтвердил это. Я также перепроверил записи. Это действительно она». Только тогда Виталий поднял глаза. У Яны резко перехватило дыхание и она поняла, что перед ней сам босс корпорации «Парамаунт». «Вы тот человек, который помог мне прошлой ночью?» - спросил Виталий, оглядывая её с головы до ног. Яна тут же пригнула голову, не решаясь встретиться с грозным взглядом мужчины. «Да... Э-это была я», - она не совсем понимала, о чём идёт речь, но знала, что в её интересах войти в доверие к Виталию Новикову. Выгода не заставит себя ждать. Так случилось, что в Центральном военном госпитале собирались отобрать кандидатов для прохождения практики. И хотя это было обозначено как таковое, все в этой отрасли знали, что интерны в конечном итоге будут приняты на работу и доживут до конца своей карьеры в этом учреждении. Если уж на то пошло, Центральный военный госпиталь имел доступ к ресурсам, которые были намного лучше, чем в этой больнице. Яна планировала подружиться с Виталием в надежде использовать его связи, чтобы попасть в лучшую больницу. «Я могу компенсировать тебе всем, чем ты захочешь, даже браком», - внезапно прервал её мысли холодный голос Виталия. Его лицо оставалось отстранённым, но мысль о вчерашней ночи смягчила жёсткую линию его рта. «Что ж... Я...» - это было настолько неожиданно, чем Яна могла себе представить, что она с трудом могла подобрать слова. «Приходи ко мне, как только примешь решение», - встал Виталий и жестом попросил Дениса дать ей свой контактный телефон. Директор больницы поспешил и предложил Виталию проводить его к выходу. «В этом нет необходимости», - отказался тот, и всё его поведение снова стало холодным. Затем он остановился, как будто его кое-что осенило. Он обернулся к директору и сказал: «Пожалуйста, позаботьтесь о ней». «Конечно», - заверил его директор больницы с вежливой улыбкой. Убедившись, что они находятся вне пределов слышимости, Денис подошёл к Виталию. «Начальник, - обратился он тихим, но настоятельным голосом, - вы ведь уже женаты. Я не думаю, что брак является приемлемым вариантом для госпожи Агафоновой. Вам следует отказаться от этого предложения». Губы Виталия дёрнулись при упоминании о его браке, а лицо ещё больше помрачнело, когда он подумал о женщине, на которой его заставили жениться. «Тебе что, жить надоело?» - пригрозил он своему помощнику. Тот понял, что сказал то, чего не следовало, и тут же задрожал. В этот момент он не знал, кто больше всего злит его босса - новая невеста или человек, стоящий за вчерашним нападением. Тем временем Камилла вернулась на виллу, которую должна была делить с мужем. Экономка средних лет, Виктория Романова, встретила её в фойе, на её лице было написано беспокойство. «Почему вас не было вчера вечером, госпожа?» «Я должна была подменить коллегу», - ответила та. Её глаза были покрасневшими и слезились от усталости. Увидев это, Виктория решила не настаивать на своём. Камилла поднялась наверх и погрузилась в ванну. Её мысли невольно вернулись к предыдущей ночи, и она почувствовала, как её щёки начали гореть. Она вздохнула и погрузилась в воду, как бы спасаясь от тревожных воспоминаний. Её чувства по этому поводу были смешанными, и она не знала, с чего начать. Она даже не представляла, что это был за человек. Более того, она теперь была замужем. От этой мысли она почувствовала вину. Несмотря на обстоятельства, которые привели их к нынешнему положению, факт оставался фактом: она и Виталий являются мужем и женой. Камилла вышла из ванны, оделась и снова приготовилась к выходу. Как только она спустилась вниз, Виктория тут же засуетилась вокруг неё: «Вы опять уходите так скоро? Почему бы вам сначала не позавтракать?» Та посмотрела на время. «Нет, я опоздаю на работу». Виктория знала, что Камилла врач, поэтому она понимала, что для этой молодой девушки является нормой проводить на работе неумеренное количество времени. Тогда она протянула ей стакан молока: «Выпейте хотя бы это. Осторожно, оно горячее». «Спасибо», - тихо произнесла девушка, согретая заботой экономки. «Не за что», - любезно улыбнулась экономка. Возможно, этот брак и был вынужденным, но она достаточно хорошо знала, что нельзя смотреть на Камиллу свысока. Даже без титула жены Виталия Новикова Камилла - профессиональный врач, и это делает её более чем достойной уважения. Допив молоко, Камилла вернула стакан Виктории и направилась к выходу. Однако она не пошла сразу в комнату отдыха персонала. Она вышла из дома пораньше, потому что ей нужно было зайти в стационар. Её мать была помещена в отделение интенсивной терапии. Камилла молча вошла в палату и проверила состояние матери. Женщина по-прежнему находилась в плохом состоянии. Сердце девушки заныло. Её мать страдала от сердечной недостаточности и находилась в критическом состоянии. Единственным способом сохранить жизнь матери была пересадка сердца, которая, естественно, обошлась бы в целое состояние. Основной причиной, по которой Камилла согласилась на брак, было то, что её отец угрожал удержать деньги, необходимые для операции. Теперь, когда она вышла замуж, как того требовал её отец, всё, что им было нужно, это найти подходящего донора сердца. Камилла бросила горький взгляд на мать: «Мама, я тебя вылечу. Я обещаю». Её мать была самым близким человеком, её главной поддержкой и надёжным доверенным лицом. Неожиданно зазвонил телефон. Девушка достала телефон из кармана и ответила на звонок. «Мила, - раздался мужской голос. - Мне нужно, чтобы ты оказала мне одну услугу». Глава 3 Частный пациент Камилле позвонил Фёдор Фальков. Они учились в одном медицинском университете, хотя он был на два года старше её. Затем он уехал за границу, чтобы продолжить обучение, и теперь был известным экспертом в своей области. Фёдор всегда хорошо заботился о Камилле, поэтому они были довольно близки. «О какой услуге идёт речь?» - прямо спросила Камилла. «У меня есть пациент, нуждающийся в лечении, однако у меня появилось неотложное дело, и я не думаю, что смогу заняться этим в ближайшее время. Пожалуйста, возьми пациента под своё крыло», - попросил Фёдор. Камила взглянула на своё расписание. Сегодня у неё не было дел в офисе, и, если не считать двух операций, запланированных на полдень, она была практически свободна. «Да, конечно. Куда мне подъехать?» - спросила Камилла. «Я напишу тебе адрес. Когда доберёшься туда, просто скажи охранникам, что ты приехала к господину Калашникову, и они обо всём позаботятся», - ответил Фёдор. «Договорились», - ответила девушка. «Ещё кое-что, - добавил Фёдор, и его тон стал серьёзным. - Никогда никому об этом не говори и не задавай лишних вопросов. Всё, что тебе нужно сделать, это вылечить пациента». «Ясно. Не волнуйся», - ответила Камилла. Они попрощались, и Камилла вызвала такси, чтобы добраться к пациенту. Место оказалось в престижном районе, заполненном виллами, оснащёнными системами безопасности высшего уровня. Как и ожидалось, на входе девушка столкнулась с суровой охраной. Камилла последовала инструкциям и упомянула господина Калашникова. Сделав звонок, чтобы убедиться в правдивости её слов, охранник пригласил Камиллу внутрь. Девушка легко нашла виллу. Она поднялась по ступенькам и позвонила в дверь. Через несколько секунд дверь открылась. Казалось, что ситуация действительно была срочной. Денис нахмурился. Они ждали Фёдора, но вместо этого на пороге оказалась незваная гостья. «Простите, вы…» - начала девушка. Из указаний Фёдора Камилла уже сделала вывод, что этот пациент ценит своё личное пространство, и чтобы избежать неприятностей, она сочла разумным надеть маску. Безопасность была в приоритете. «Доктор Фальков попросил меня приехать сюда», - сказала Камилла. Денис мельком взглянул на аптечку, которую она держала: «Вы знаете, что делать?» «Да, доктор Фальков дал мне инструкции. Я сохраню всё в строгой конфиденциальности», - ответила девушка. Денис знал, что Фёдор не передал бы свои обязанности тому, кто не заслуживает доверия или некомпетентен, поэтому утвердительно кивнул и впустил Камиллу. Он провёл её мимо роскошной гостиной, затем вверх по лестнице в спальню. В комнате было темно. «Как я буду проводить лечение без света?» - спросила Камилла. Когда Виталий услышал женский голос, то поспешно схватил свой пиджак и натянул его на лицо. «Включи свет», - приказал он сквозь ткань. Денис щёлкнул выключателем, и комнату залил яркий свет. Первой мыслью Камиллы было то, что голос пациента был довольно знакомым, однако она отмахнулась от этих мыслей. Она увидела человека, лежащего на кровати, чья белая парадная рубашка была в пятнах давно засохшей крови. Камилла не хотела вдаваться в подробности и решила сосредоточиться на ранах. Мужчина явно не хотел выдавать свою личность, поэтому девушка естественным образом уважала его границы и вела себя прилично. Она поставила свою аптечку на тумбочку и достала хирургические инструменты. Камилла ножницами разрезала рубашку пациента, обнажив его раны, которые были покрыты тонким слоем марли. Она убрала всё и, наконец, увидела две зияющие раны на правой стороне торса мужчины. Камилла начала лечение, обработав раны своими ловкими руками. Всё это время она оставалась спокойной, а её движения были быстрыми и эффективными. «Есть ли у вас аллергия на анестезию?» - спросила она через некоторое время. К счастью, раны были неглубокие и повредили лишь небольшую часть кожи, однако требовалось хирургическое вмешательство. Процесс требовал применения местной анестезии. Камилла говорила спокойно, почти тихо, что резко контрастировало с её безумным голосом прошлой ночью. Поэтому, несмотря на обмен несколькими словами, Виталий совсем не узнал её. «Нет», - сказал он своим обычным холодным голосом, про себя восхваляя её профессионализм. Камилла приступила к приготовлению анестезии, а затем ввела её в область вокруг ран. Им пришлось подождать пару минут, пока началось действие препарата, после чего она наложила швы. Примерно через час Камилла наконец закончила. В целом, лечение прошло быстро и успешно. Камилла посмотрела на свои оквавленные руки и сказала: «Мне нужно в уборную». «Вы можете использовать ту, что внизу», - ответил Денис. Камилла поспешно покинула спальню. Убедившись, что девушка вернулась на первый этаж, Денис закрыл дверь и поспешил к Виталию. «Я узнал, что бандиты, напавшие на вас вчера, подосланы Артёмом. Он, вероятно, отчаянно хочет избавиться от вас, особенно после того, как вы вычислили его шпионов в вашей компании», - сказал Денис. Виталий застонал от боли, усаживаясь, а затем подтянулся к краю кровати и опустил ноги на пол. Он выглядел слабым, но его глаза вспыхнули опасным блеском. Мужчина перевёл пронзительный взгляд на своего помощника. «Эта женщина, на которой я был вынужден жениться, имеет какое-либо отношение к Артёму?» - спросил он. Денис понизил голос: «На самом деле, Артём связался с вашим тестем, Мироном. Он стремился выдать свою дочь замуж за члена семьи Новиковых, но, похоже, никогда не рассматривал вашего кузена Илью, как подходящего кандидата. Должно быть, Артём договорился с ним». «Он не перестаёт меня удивлять каждый день. С моей стороны будет не вежливо промолчать в ответ», - сказал Виталий. За время отсутствия Виталия, в городе произошло много событий, в которых был замешан Илья. «Я слышал, что у Ильи есть захудалый бар "Шарм" на улице Арбатская», - протянул Виталий. Денис всё понял с полуслова. «Да, поскольку шпионов выгнали из компании, этот клуб стал их единственным источником дохода, и если его закроют, то им придётся довольно туго», - сказал Денис. «Помоги им в этом», - сказал Виталий, и его голос стал на октаву ниже. Денис столкнулся с Камиллой, когда спускался вниз. Он предположил, что Фёдор проинструктировал девушку заранее, однако решил немного её напугать для большего эффекта: «Если вы расскажете об этом кому-нибудь, вас настигнет ужасная смерть», - сказал он. Если слух о травмах Виталия дойдёт до Артёма или его сына Ильи, они обязательно повернут это в свою пользу. Камилла кивнула: «Я сохраню это в тайне. Я только возьму свою аптечку и немедленно уйду». Когда девушка вернулась в спальню, то обнаружила мужчину, стоящего у окна напротив двери. Он стоял к ней спиной, однако девушка могла рассмотреть его широкие плечи и мускулистую спину. Его тело было стройным, просто идеальным. «Вы разве не ушли?» - спросил мужчина насмешливым голосом. Он не обернулся, но каким-то образом понял, что она смотрит на него. Возможно, он почувствовал её горячий взгляд. Камилла смущённо опустила голову. Как бы ей не хотелось это признавать, но этот мужчина заинтересовал её. Глава 4 Стажировка Камилла, опустив голову, торопливо взяла свою аптечку. Прочистив горло, она дала мужчине несколько указаний. Как бы там ни было, она всё же была врачом. «Вам нельзя пока мочить свои раны. Дезинфицируйте их раз в день и носите свободные рубашки, чтобы не раздражать раны». Она поставила бутылочку с таблетками и тюбик с мазью на тумбочку. «Я оставляю вам эти лекарства». Виталий что-то пробормотал в знак признательности, но не обернулся. Камилла тоже больше ничего не сказала и сразу же покинула виллу. Когда она вернулась в больницу, было уже почти одиннадцать дня. Она направилась в столовую, чтобы перекусить. Едва устроившись за своим столом, её вызвали в кабинет главврача. «Я отправляю Яну в Центральный военный госпиталь на стажировку», - сказал главврач тоном, не терпящим возражений. Камилла была потрясена и сказала: «Но я думала, что вы уже решили отправить меня?» «Камилла, я уверен, что ты знаешь о том, что всё высокотехнологичное оборудование нашей больницы спонсировалось корпорацией "Парамаунт". Президент Новиков лично попросил меня позаботиться о Яне. Я не могу позволить себе пойти против его воли». Камилла ощетинилась при упоминании имени Виталия. Хотя они и были официально женаты, но они никогда не встречались. Она видела мужчину только в журналах и иногда в новостях по телевизору. Значит, он и Яна? Сердце Камиллы ёкнуло, но она оставалась спокойной. «Вот как?» «Да, боюсь, у меня связаны руки. Послушай, Камилла, мы оба знаем о твоих способностях, но...» - главврач хотел успокоить девушку, но не знал, как. Камилла выделялась среди своих сверстников благодаря невероятному таланту и профессиональной этике. Главврач ценил её больше всех остальных. «Я понимаю», - пробормотала Камилла себе под нос. Девушка говорила себе, что она была не в том положении, чтобы расстраиваться из-за вмешательства Виталия. Он был вынужден жениться на ней, и, естественно, она не могла рассчитывать на то, что он будет заботиться о ней. «Мне ещё нужно подготовиться к операции, так что я пойду», - смиренным голосом сказала девушка. Камилла понимала, что ничего не может сделать, чтобы изменить ситуацию. Главврач просто вздохнул и смотрел, как она уходит. Камилла с энтузиазмом погрузилась в работу, пытаясь не думать о стажировке. Она без заминки провела свою вторую операцию, затем сняла свою хирургическую форму и, посмотрев вверх, устало плюхнулась на стул. Именно в этот момент в гостиную вошла Яна и сказала: «Здравствуй, Камилла, - поприветствовала она, ярко улыбаясь. - Ты свободна вечером? Позволь угостить тебя ужином». «Извини, но у меня есть дела, с которыми нужно разобраться позже», - вежливо отказалась Камилла. Девушка не была в хороших отношениях с Яной. Они были просто коллегами, а не подругами. Обе окончили один и тот же университет в одно и то же время. Ещё тогда Яна была той ещё штучкой. Она была очень амбициозной и всегда хотела покрасоваться и привлекать всеобщее внимание. Камилла, в свою очередь, предпочитала оставаться незаметной и была погружена в свои книги. Можно сказать, что девушки были абсолютно разными. Понятное дело, что они не очень хорошо ладили. «О, очень жаль, - сказала Яна, выглядя почему-то смущённой. - Вообще-то я хотела с тобой кое о чём поговорить». Камилла встала и подошла к своему шкафчику, чтобы повесить халат. «Говори», - сказала она, не глядя на Яну. Тот факт, что её коллега так или иначе связалась с Виталием, ещё больше отдалил Камиллу от Яны. «Ты, должно быть, слышала, да? Мне очень жаль. Я понятия не имела, что директор…» «Всё в порядке», - перебила Камилла. Однако Яна ещё не всё сказала и продолжила: «И ещё, можешь сохранить в секрете то, что вчера вечером ты вышла на смену вместо меня? Знаешь, поскольку я собираюсь в Центральный военный госпиталь, я не хочу, чтобы это причинило какие-либо проблемы». Несмотря на то, что просьба Яны была необычной, Камилла не думала об этом и ответила: «Я никому не скажу». В любом случае, не было ничего странного в том, чтобы взять на себя смену коллеги. Время от времени им приходилось сталкиваться с личными чрезвычайными обстоятельствами. На территории больницы. Фёдор сидел на заднем сиденье дорогой чёрной машины, которая была припаркована у ворот. «Ну, - сказал он голосом, переполненным гордостью, - что думаешь о моей ученице? У неё отличные способности, не так ли?» Рядом с мужчиной сидел Виталий, откинувшись на спинку сиденья. Он снова подумал о враче, который лечил его, и вспомнил, какими спокойными и точными были её действия. На самом деле, мужчина был поражен её способностями. «Это госпожа Волкова», - вдруг заговорил Денис. Виталий опустил стекло как раз в тот момент, когда Яна подошла к машине. Брови Фёдора поднялись, и он сказал: «Яна?» Денис обернулся с водительского места и спросил: «Вы знаете её?» Фёдор кивнул, его взгляд заблестел от любопытства. «Она была студенткой на год младше в моём университете». Виталию стало любопытно, когда он услышал это. Значит, эта девушка не только спасла его прошлой ночью, но и залечила его раны? «Это судьба?» - воскликнул Денис. Вселенная наконец решила дать его боссу шанс на любовь? «Какого чёрта ты несёшь?» - спросил Фёдор, нахмурившись, переводя взгляд с одного мужчины на другого. ...... Что будет дальше? Количество глав здесь ограничено, нажмите на кнопку ниже, чтобы установить приложение и продолжить чтение более захватывающих глав! (Вы будете автоматически перенаправлены на книгу, когда откроете приложение) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-	Hello reading		0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.litradnovie.com	IMAGE	https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=238502339210583&rawadid=120213195263050476	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466044180_1779432665927248_1001558972601753771_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4LI7rC753csQ7kNvgEMorW5&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjsGx4JH5qucJVMRezwrbsy&oh=00_AYAnnFTRqr6Nm4_6D9K7sXFqzhXR-04zP-ZLgDuLEI6nPQ&oe=674DA218	REGULAR_PAGE		1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,547,951	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547544}'	No	2024-11-27 19:46	active	1932	🔞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...	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2,549,715	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547428}'	No	2024-11-27 19:59	active	1932	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449730410_469240799085293_8357185738494594337_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=B2-oMiw46xoQ7kNvgGz0tAF&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AOiwW-Ti-eFEKHKfUlz0E5T&oh=00_AYAoGF0x-7VQ2AzJ3mZgpt-BQUZ_A-NgAZDKUUREjXn5kw&oe=674DA113	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,547,886	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2547428}'	Yes	2024-11-27 19:45	active	1932	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=iI8xUFI2hJUQ7kNvgHCF_C0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHsWsNnJTuJhI2qvQ8J-O0X&oh=00_AYBsCViUzWELFiFpI_twscR8PaU3jj5ldXqsY1w1iL71yg&oe=674D8BBB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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