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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 к*ай н*жа. «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 н*жом. 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 по**ловала 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 по**луе. 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. «Ч*рт в*зьми! Да это же просто ц**ующаяся 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 п**оти 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 с*ксом 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 к**ви 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 ок**вавленные 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- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 837 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512742180790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466479457_2758529560984914_1488169500030335713_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=umJTJ36ooOMQ7kNvgHI2M_S&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AwEPhyudA2173HV9rk_1Upu&oh=00_AYCzz1f9CpHMNl05wk2K0R9rlYXROs0zgZbrMCl3UBFVaQ&oe=673C8202 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-11-14 20:21 | active | 1815 | 0 | 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 к*ай н*жа. «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 н*жом. 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 по**ловала 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 по**луе. 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. «Ч*рт в*зьми! Да это же просто ц**ующаяся 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 п**оти 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 с*ксом 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 к**ви 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 ок**вавленные 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- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 837 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | VIDEO | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213381685950790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465914918_2065065517259201_6800258306716741920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=2YW7-up-s_8Q7kNvgFMVV6o&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aw0n4At8EswTK33rxQZHOX7&oh=00_AYAVoSSNTa4CCuSCPfek0Hr3kq4eVYU_VC6FIOBz7cP1qQ&oe=673C87E4 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Una esposa para mi hermano | Una antigua regla familiar prohíbe a Harry casarse con su novia embarazada. En verdad esos dos estaban muy enamorados. Era una pena que tuvieran que llegar a idear un plan tan descabellado para poder seguir juntos. La propuesta con la que habían llegado era simple: para que Harry y Laura pudieran casarse, Daniel que había enviudado 5 años atrás tenía que volver a contraer matrimonio. En verdad su hermano lo estaba poniendo en un aprieto. Su esposa había fallecido de una afección cardiaca poco después de dar a luz a su pequeño hijo. Lo dejó solo con 3 niños y una profunda tristeza en una casa que de pronto se volvió muy grande; creando, con el correr de los años, una coraza fría a su alrededor. Deanna era la mejor amiga de Harry y la única opción que les quedaba. Deanna tiene una vida normal, trabaja medio tiempo y estudia en la Universidad de Artes porque quiere lograr su sueño: cantar en la ópera. Solo le falta un año para terminar su carrera cuando su amigo Harry le pide ayuda desesperado. Deanna estaba más que dispuesta a hacer esto por ellos, Laura se convertirá en madre y se casará con el hombre que ama. Para ayudarlo con su problema Daniel y Deanna acceden a fingir una relación y un matrimonio. A veces el amor aparece de la manera más inesperada y en la forma de la persona menos pensada. Son tan opuestos que la atracción es inevitable. Él encuentra en ella la calidez que faltaba en su vida y Deanna el amor luego de una ruptura desastrosa. Finalmente, Daniel puede volver a tener una familia. Pero hay muchos intereses ocultos que buscan separarlos y alejarlos. El viaje es difícil, deben enfrentarse no solo a terceros que les complicaran las cosas, sino también a sus propios miedos e inseguridades. No es sencillo equilibrar 15 años de diferencia... &6& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/13316375-fb_contact-spy | Best Love Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083460684692/ | 12,030 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.manobook.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/13316375-fb_contact-spy4685_2-1022-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=200518&accid=428030350227844&rawadid=120214389757990581 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465574026_528047110144575_3220201390581862014_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=f1xznUj9fRoQ7kNvgG-Ixiy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwEPhyudA2173HV9rk_1Upu&oh=00_AYAkjg8RSjYIOXhwAlnlbBWJQkMOei8IOGFkM36heHggQw&oe=673C8D67 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Best Love Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Continuer la lecture | Après trois ans de mariage, son mari rentrait rarement à la maison. Le seul moment d'intimité partagé était pour complaire aux aînés. Le jour de l'accouchement difficile, il est parti à l'étranger en avion privé avec sa maîtresse. Dévastée, elle a décidé de divorcer! ===== Joelle Miller a consulté le compte Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, étudiant chaque vidéo avec une attention particulière, était impatiente de voir le visage du petit ami de Rebecca. Rebecca, la fille des clips, dégageait une aura douce et délicate dans sa simple robe blanche. Elle n'était pas très belle, mais elle dégageait une simplicité saine et son sourire était vraiment charmant. Elle a découvert que pendant les jours cruciaux, la veille de Noël, la Saint-Valentin et même l'anniversaire de Joelle, Rebecca était avec Adrian Miller, le soi-disant mari de Joelle, qui avait disparu de tous les événements importants au cours des trois dernières années. Les récits joyeux de Rebecca et les bribes de sa vie avec son petit ami suffisaient parfaitement à plonger Joelle dans la morosité. « Est-ce que tu vois ça? Il garde la tranche de pastèque la plus juteuse rien que pour moi. » « Même en rentrant tard, il n'oublie jamais de m'apporter un petit quelque chose. » « Et regarde ça, quelle surprise!Il est allé chercher un porte-bonheur pour moi à l'église. » ...... Le nom d'utilisateur du compte était « Compte à Rebours à la Mort », le seul compte que Joelle suivait. Au moment où elle allait réfléchir à ce nom inquiétant, la porte de la salle de bains s'est ouverte. Dans la pièce faiblement éclairée, Adrian est apparu. Des gouttes d'eau coulaient de ses cheveux. Malgré la lumière tamisée, ses traits frappants n'étaient pas altérés. Joelle a instinctivement éteint son téléphone et l'a regardé, perdue dans ses pensées. Cela faisait une éternité qu'elle n'avait pas vu Adrian. Ce soir, il était là bien malgré lui. Sa grand-mère, Irene Miller, était malade et cherchait désespérément un arrière-petit-enfant, ce qui obligeait le jeune homme à revenir. Sans cela, il ne serait peut-être jamais revenu. Au cours de leurs trois années de mariage, Adrian rentrait rarement à la maison et passait le plus clair de son temps dans les Villas d'Oak. Il était de notoriété publique qu'il n'aimait pas Joelle. Elle se sentait prise au piège d'un mariage qui n'existait que de nom. « Je te donne une seule chance. Que tu tombes e**einte ou non est entre les mains du destin », a déclaré Adrian, sa voix résonnante et profonde. Qu'insinuait-il? Avant que Joelle ne puisse réfléchir davantage, Adrian lui a saisi la cheville et l'a tirée vers lui. Joelle a pâli face à sa cruauté, son corps s'étant crispé sous l'effet de la peur. « Adrian!Arrête, je ne veux pas... » Ses paroles ont été interrompues par ses propres luttes frénétiques. Se retrouver dans une telle situation avec l'homme qu'elle aimait la remplissait d'humiliation et de terreur. Le rictus d'Adrian a traversé l'air. « Tu as osé me d*oguer une fois, tu aurais dû voir venir ce jour. Tu n'as qu'à l'endurer. » À ses mots durs, les yeux de Joelle se sont remplis de larmes, ses cils s'agitant comme des papillons blessés. Elle a levé les yeux vers son visage sévère, la voix tremblante. « Les choses ne sont pas ce que vous pensez...» Sa protestation a été interrompue. Sa résistance s'affaiblissant tandis que le désespoir prenait le dessus. Elle est restée allongée, souhaitant oublier tout ce qui se passait. « Tu as appris qu'il est bien plus intéressant de jouer les durs à cuire que de rester allongé comme un poisson mort », a-t-il éructé, la voix teintée de méchanceté. Après sa douche, il est parti sans un regard en arrière. Avant et après, Il prenait des douches rituelles comme si elle était une tache sur sa conscience. Joelle avait du mal à comprendre le rôle qu'elle jouait dans la vie d'Adrian. Était-elle un simple jouet pour? Ou un outil satisfaire les attentes de sa famille en matière d'héritier? La fenêtre était grandement ouverte, laissant entrer un vent froid et mordant. Joelle a frissonné, resserrant la couverture autour d'elle. Ce n'était pas seulement le froid qui la faisait trembler. Elle avait l'impression que son cœur avait été déchiré, qu'un vent glacial s'était engouffré dans sa plaie ouverte. L'homme qu'elle aimait tant depuis près de huit ans lui était désormais étranger. Trois ans plus tôt, lors d'un somptueux banquet organisé par la famille Miller, Joelle avait trop bu. À son réveil, elle s'était avec Adrian. Avant qu'elle n'ait pu reprendre ses esprits, son frère et plusieurs membres de la famille Miller avaient fait irruption. Ce qui avait été fait était irréversible. La grand-mère d'Adrian avait pris les rênes et avait arrangé leur mariage. Pendant tout ce temps, Adrian était persuadé que Joelle le piéger. Joelle avait déjà été déconcertée par la profonde animosité d'Adrian, même s'il croyait qu'elle l'avait d**gué. Après tout, ils avaient tous les deux grandi ensemble. Mais à présent, elle a compris. Aux yeux d'Adrian, elle n'était rien d'autre que l'infâme femme qui avait saboté sa relation avec Rebecca. Elle se surprenait souvent à penser à un Adrian qui semblait parfait dans les vidéos de Rebecca, toujours si doux et attentif. Elle s'est rendu compte qu'il ne lui montrerait probablement jamais la même tendresse. Finalement, Joelle a succombé à une crise de sanglots. Cette nuit-là, son sommeil a été agité et perturbé. Dans les dernières heures, elle se surprenait à rêver de l'époque où Adrian et elle n'étaient pas en conflit. Réveillée par son sommeil agité, Joelle s'est levée inhabituellement tôt. Après s'être rafraîchie, elle a enfilé une tenue décontractée et s'est rendue au rez-de-chaussée. Leah Jenkins, la femme de chambre de longue date, a remarqué la descente de Joelle et s'est empressée de mettre la table pour le petit-déjeuner, connaissant toutes ses préférences alimentaires. Joelle a pris son temps, mangeant lentement et de manière délibérée. « Mme Miller, pourquoi n'avez-vous pas convaincu M. Miller de rester la nuit dernière? Ce n'est pas souvent qu'il rentre à la maison », a commenté Leah, son ton reflétant la sympathie qu'elle éprouvait à l'égard de Joelle. Leah était au service de la famille Miller depuis de nombreuses années, et avait vu Joelle et Adrian passer du statut d'amis d'enfance à celui d'ennemis. Une pointe de gêne a brièvement traversé les traits de Joelle pour ensuite être masquée par un sourire serein. « J'ai essayé, mais il a refusé », a-t-elle répondu. Il avait le cœur ailleurs. Ses sentiments se portaient sur les Villas d'Oak, où vivait celle qu'il chérissait vraiment. Leah a hésité avant de reprendre la parole, le ton prudent. « C'est peut-être parce que M. Miller est très impliqué dans l'entreprise. La gestion d'une entreprise aussi importante lui prend beaucoup de temps. » Après avoir été réaffectée aux soins de Joelle trois ans plus tôt, Leah en était venue à comprendre les nuances de ce mariage mieux que quiconque. Sa perspicacité s'accompagnait d'une sympathie sincère pour Joelle. Les cils de la jeune femme frémissaient pendant qu'elle grignotait sa tartine, ses yeux larmoyant légèrement sous le coup de l'émotion. Oui, Adrian était très occupé, mais il prenait toujours le temps de s'occuper de Rebecca. Il fréquentait la Cathédrale du Salut pour lui demander un charme de bénédiction. Malgré son emploi du temps chargé, il ne ratait jamais les vacances avec elle. À ce moment-là, le téléphone de Joelle a rompu le silence. Alors que Leah quittait la salle à manger, Joelle a décroché l'appel de sa meilleure amie, Katherine Nash. « Katherine, je veux divorcer », a dit Joelle d'une voix rauque. Chapitre 2 Être désormais condamnée définitivement Joelle a pris la décision de divorcer. Il n'y avait aucune raison de faire traîner les choses plus longtemps. Après un moment de silence stupéfait, Katherine a éclaté d'un rire strident. « Tu vas avoir la moitié des biens d'Adrian? Oh, mon Dieu!Joelle, tu vas devenir milliardaire!» « Je ne peux pas. » En effet, Joelle avait signé un accord lorsqu'elle et Adrian s'étaient mariés. S'ils divorçaient, elle n'aurait rien. « Alors pourquoi tu veux divorcer, bon sang? Continue à être sa femme!» Joelle se souvenait de la rudesse d'Adrian la nuit précédente et de l'humiliation qui s'en était suivie. Par le passé, elle avait été si naïve, croyant que son amour pour Adrian pouvait l'aider à supporter n'importe quelle épreuve. Mais aujourd'hui, en regardant en arrière, elle s'est rendu compte à quel point elle avait été stupide. Adrian l'aimait-il davantage à cause de la souffrance? La réponse était tout simplement non. Un homme qui l'aimait vraiment ne l'aurait jamais laissée souffrir. Joelle s'est moquée d'elle-même et a changé de sujet. « Au fait, tu te souviens du service que je t'ai demandé la dernière fois? » « Oui. J'allais t'en parler. Tu m'as demandé d'être à l'affût d'un emploi, et j'ai quelque chose pour toi. Tu apprendras à jouer du violon à un élève, mais je dois dire que ce sera un gaspillage de ton talent. » « Ce n'est pas grave », a répondu Joelle avec un léger sourire. « Ce n'est pas du tout un gâchis. J'ai été femme au foyer pendant trois ans. Il suffit que quelqu'un veuille bien m'embaucher. » « En quoi ce n'est pas un gâchis? Tu étais si près de faire partie d'un orchestre international. Si tu ne t'étais pas mariée... », s'est interrompue Katherine, se sentant indignée pour son amie. Après son mariage, Joelle n'avait même plus le droit de travailler. Ces familles riches s'accrochaient à des règles aussi désuètes. Toute cette situation était ridicule. Trois ans plus tôt, la carrière de violoniste de Joelle était en plein essor. Cependant, les traditions strictes de la famille Miller lui interdisaient de jouer en public. Le premier jour de son mariage, la mère d'Adrian lui avait bien dit : « Tu n'as pas besoin de travailler. Adrian subviendra à tes besoins. Ton travail consistera à donner naissance à ses enfants et à prendre soin de ton mari. » Après son appel avec Katherine, Joelle est montée à l'étage et a récupéré son violon, longtemps négligé, dans le bureau. C'était un cadeau spécial de son père pour son dix-huitième anniversaire. Tragiquement, peu de temps après l'avoir reçu, son père avait été victime d'une attaque cérébrale et était tombé dans le coma. Son frère aîné s'était chargé de subvenir aux besoins de la famille. Il l'avait laissée poursuivre son rêve de jouer du violon sans s'inquiéter. Tout en se remémorant le passé, Joelle a tiré l'archet sur les cordes. Des années en arrière, un accident l'avait blessée au poignet et elle n'avait plus joué depuis ce temps. Aujourd'hui, alors qu'elle jouait, une douleur aiguë lui a traversé le poignet, mais elle a persisté. Elle s'est appuyée sur sa mémoire musculaire pour jouer un court morceau. À la fin, elle a éclaté d'un rire amer. Le son était terrible. Juste à ce moment-là, elle a entendu la voix de Leah à la porte, remplie de surprise et de joie. « Monsieur, vous êtes rentré!» Leah était intérieurement contente de voir Adrian. Son retour à la maison devait signifier qu'il tenait toujours à Joelle. Si Joelle lui disait quelque chose de gentil, leur relation pourrait peut-être s'améliorer. Pendant ce temps, Joelle était surprise. Adrian rentrait rarement à la maison dans la journée. Elle venait de poser son violon lorsque la porte s'est ouverte. Adrian se tenait dans l'embrasure de la porte, sa grande taille imposante. Les sourcils froncés, il l'a regardée. Il se souvenait que Joelle avait appris à jouer du violon lorsqu'elle était enfant et qu'elle avait été félicitée pour son talent par un professeur renommé. Mais pour une raison ou une autre, elle avait cessé de jouer. Ayant écouté de l'extérieur tout à l'heure, il avait trouvé son jeu médiocre. Comment pourrait-on avoir loué son talent? Joelle lui a jeté un coup d'œil et a baissé la tête pour replacer le violon dans son étui. Elle a alors demandé à voix basse : « Qu'est-ce qui t'amène ici? Tu as besoin de quelque chose? » « Je suis venu chercher quelque chose et te rappeler que nous devons rendre visite à grand-mère demain », a répondu Adrian d'un ton froid. Rendre visite à sa grand-mère au moins une fois par mois était une obligation familiale. Demain, c'était ce jour-là. Sans cette obligation, Adrian ne serait pas du tout revenu. Si Joelle et lui ne se présentaient pas ensemble, Irene serait contrariée. Joelle a souri avec amertume. Elle se souvenait des principes de la famille Miller mieux qu'Adrian et les avait toujours respectés. Même Irene, toujours aussi stricte, ne pouvait pas lui reprocher quoi que ce soit. « Je n'ai pas oublié. Je suis soulagée de savoir que tu ne l'as pas oublié non plus », a répondu Joelle. Il y avait dans son ton une pointe d'accusation qui faisait ricaner Adrian. L'espace d'un instant, il a ressenti une colère qui couvait en lui. Sans un mot de plus, il s'est dirigé directement vers la garde-robe pour y chercher quelque chose. Même s'il ne rentrait que rarement à la maison, Joelle entretenait méticuleusement sa garde-robe, avec des vêtements lavés, repassés et bien rangés. Joelle avait l'impression que son rôle se réduisait aux tâches ménagères, ce que Leah pouvait également faire. Son seul avantage, peut-être, était qu'elle était plus jeune et plus jolie que Leah. Ses yeux ont suivi les mouvements d'Adrian. L'annulaire de celui-ci était nu ; il n'y avait pas d'alliance. Une vive douleur lui a traversé le cœur. « Adrian, divorçons », a dit soudain Joelle, la voix aussi douce qu'une brise. Prononcer ces mots l'a vidée de toutes ses forces, mais elle a senti un étrange soulagement l'envahir. Adrian s'est retourné et l'a regardée avec un sourire moqueur. « Réfléchis bien avant de parler. La famille Watson est désormais condamnée définitivement. Sans mon soutien, comptes-tu dormir dans la rue avec ton frère après le divorce? » Depuis la chute de la famille Watson, Joelle était passée du statut de fille choyée à celui de Mme Miller ridiculisée. La famille Miller la détestait et la considérait comme si elle et son frère étaient des sangsues dont ils ne pouvaient se débarrasser. Même ses moments d'intimité avec Adrian lui donnaient l'impression d'être dégradée. Joelle s'est mordu la lèvre et s'est redressée. « J'ai déjà loué un appartement. Même si je finissais par dormir dans la rue, ce serait de ma faute. » Tout ce qu'elle voulait, c'était qu'Adrian la respecte, mais trois ans de captivité avaient usé sa fierté et sa dignité. « Et où as-tu trouvé l'argent pour louer un appartement? Si tu voulais tant être indépendante, tu n'aurais pas dû dépenser un seul centime de la famille Miller. » Adrian, dos à Joelle, a retrouvé l'alliance perdue dans un interstice et l'a tenue dans sa paume. Joelle n'a rien remarqué. Les paroles qu'il prononçait la laissaient de marbre. Oui, elle avait dépensé ses maigres économies pour louer l'appartement. Mais depuis qu'elle était mariée à Adrien, ce qui était à elle n'était-il pas aussi à lui? De plus, le soutien financier qu'Adrian avait apporté à la famille Watson au fil des ans représentait une somme importante. Joelle avait toujours détesté l'idée de devoir quoi que ce soit à Adrian, mais sa dette envers lui était la plus importante. S'ils divorçaient, il cesserait probablement tout soutien financier à la famille Watson. Voulait-il dire qu'elle devrait quitter le mariage les mains vides? Alors qu'Adrian se retournait pour partir, Joelle l'a interpellé, sa dignité à peine intacte. « Je suis légalement habilitée à contracter ce mariage et j'ai un droit légitime sur ce qui est censé m'appartenir. Mais ne t'inquiète pas, je ne te demanderai pas grand-chose, juste ce qu'il faut pour aider le Groupe Watson à traverser cette crise. » Adrian s'est figé, ses traits s'étant affinés. Ses lèvres se sont plissées en une fine ligne et sa mâchoire s'est serrée. C'étaient des signes évidents de sa colère naissante. Même si Joelle s'était mentalement préparée, elle n'avait pas pu résister à l'intensité de sa rage. Chaque instant passé sous le regard sévère du jeune homme intensifiait son angoisse. À ce moment-là, le téléphone d'Adrian a sonné. Il l'a sorti de sa poche et a commencé à s'éloigner. « Adrian!» Chapitre 3 Je ferai toujours bonne figure La frustration d'Adrian crépitait comme de l'électricité statique dans l'air. « Si ton frère a besoin d'argent, dis-lui d'aller directement au Groupe Miller. » « Ce n'est pas de ça qu'il s'agit!», a rétorqué Joelle. Il ne l'a pas comprise du tout. Joelle l'a poursuivi à toute allure, le cœur battant d'urgence. « Adrian, je veux divorcer!» À ces mots, Adrian s'est arrêté et a tourné la tête ; le téléphone qu'il tenait à la main s'est tu lui aussi. Du haut de son un mètre quatre-vingt-dix, Adrian dominait pysiquement Joelle. Il avait un regard froid et lorsqu'il a parlé, sa voix était empreinte de moquerie. « Joelle, tu ne peux pas trouver un meilleur jeu que ces incessantes discussions? Si tu veux vraiment divorcer, pourquoi ne pas le dire toi-même à grand-mère? Sinon, que je n'entende plus jamais ce mot de ta bouche!» La porte s'est refermée derrière lui, le bruit de la fin résonnant. Joelle s'est adossée au mur, ses jambes se dérobant sous elle jusqu'à ce qu'elle glisse sur le sol. Un rire amer s'est échappé de ses lèvres. Leur mariage avait été arrangé par Irene. Adrian y avait été forcé, et Joelle le savait très bien. Si elle voulait vraiment divorcer, elle savait que parler à Irene serait la solution la plus efficace. Mais une petite partie stupide d'elle-même s'était agrippée à l'espoir qu'Adrian et elle formaient un vrai couple. Elle avait donc abordé le sujet avec lui en premier car elle le considérait comme son mari. Mais elle avait oublié un détail crucial ; Adrian n'avait jamais voulu se marier avec elle. Son refus avait été manifeste dès le début, même si elle avait essayé de l'ignorer. Les derniers mots qu'il lui avait adressés n'étaient pas seulement dédaigneux, mais c'était un ordre. Si elle était sérieuse, elle devait affronter Irene elle-même. Ainsi, après avoir pris une douche, Joelle s'est habillée de vêtements neufs et s'est préparée à rendre visite à Irene. Irene était une femme stricte, autoritaire et crainte par toute la famille. Elle régnait d'une main de fer et la désobéissance n'était pas tolérée. Mais Joelle partageait un lien unique avec elle. Si Joelle avait accepté d'épouser Adrian, c'était en partie pour répondre aux attentes d'Irene. Elle avait voulu s'occuper d'Adrian, construire un foyer et faire en sorte qu'Irene puisse mourir sans regret. Mais à présent, elle ne pouvait plus tenir plus longtemps. Regarder Adrian prodiguer son attention à une autre femme emplissait Joelle d'une vague d'amertume qui menaçait de la consumer. Elle savait bien qu'Adrian ne l'aimait pas. Il ne l'avait jamais aimée et ne l'aimerait jamais ! Alors qu'elle était sur le point de partir, son téléphone a sonné. C'était son frère, Shawn Watson, qui l'appelait. « Shawn? Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? » « Mme Miller!» C'était l'assistant de Shawn, avec une voix paniquée, quelque chose que Joelle n'avait jamais entendu auparavant. Elle a frissonné et a serré le téléphone plus fort alors qu'elle se tenait au bas de l'escalier. « Où est Shawn? Que lui est-il arrivé? » « Hier soir, M. Watson a assisté à une réunion d'affaires au cours de laquelle on l'a poussé à b*ire trop. Il était censé rentrer chez lui, mais Erick Lloyd a insisté pour l'emmener dans une station thermale. » Joelle s'est figée, la fureur déferlant. « Erick ne savait pas que cela pouvait le tuer? » « Erick est un véritable poison!Il a toujours cherché à se faire remarquer depuis que son père et son frère sont devenus les chauffeurs de la famille Miller. Mme Miller, vous devez venir rapidement!M. Watson est toujours au bloc opératoire, et les médecins ont émis deux avis d'état critique. Je n'ai pas pu tenir plus longtemps avant de vous appeler!» Sa voix s'est brisée alors qu'il était au bord des larmes. Joelle savait qu'il ne l'appellerait pas si la situation n'était pas vraiment désespérée. Shawn l'avait toujours protégée des mauvaises nouvelles, peu importe les circonstances. Si son assistant était à ce point ébranlé, la vie de Shawn était sans doute au bord de l'abîme. Joelle avait l'impression que le monde se refermait sur elle, sa voix s'étranglant dans sa gorge. Elle a manqué la dernière marche et a fait une chute brutale, sa cheville se tordant brusquement. La douleur fulgurante l'a ramenée à la réalité, et les larmes lui sont montées aux yeux. « Oh non!Mme Miller, comment avez-vous pu ne pas faire attention à ce que vous faisiez? » Leah s'est précipitée et a aidé Joelle à se relever. Joelle s'est agrippée au bras de Leah, sa vision étant brouillée par les larmes. Elle a essayé de parler, mais les mots sont sortis étouffés et brisés entre les sanglots. « Mon frère... Je dois le voir à l'hôpital!» Sentant l'urgence dans sa voix, Leah n'a pas hésité. « Très bien, ne vous inquiétez pas. Je vais demander au chauffeur de vous y emmener tout de suite!» Leah était une femme de ménage expérimentée et fiable qui travaillait pour la famille Miller depuis des années. En moins de cinq minutes, la voiture est arrivée devant la villa. Alors que Joelle s'apprêtait à monter dans la voiture, elle s'est tournée vers Leah. « S'il te plaît, n'en parle pas à Irene. Je ne veux pas l'inquiéter. » Le cœur de Leah s'est adouci aux paroles de la jeune femme. Même dans son état pâle et baigné de larmes, Joelle pensait au bien-être d'Irene. Quelle fille rare et remarquable ! « Ne vous inquiétez pas, Mme Miller. Je sais ce qu'il faut faire. Allez voir votre frère. » Lorsque Joelle est arrivée à l'hôpital, Shawn venait tout juste d'être sorti du bloc opératoire. Voyant Shawn branché à des tubes et des fils, l'assistant s'est presque effondré sur le sol. En s'approchant, Joelle l'a trouvé agenouillé contre le mur en train de prier, les yeux injectés de sang et creux. Elle s'est abstenue de lui reprocher de ne pas avoir mieux protégé Shawn. Ils auraient le temps d'en reparler plus tard. Une fois l'état de Shawn stabilisé, Joelle a tiré son assistant à part. « Raconte-moi tout ce qui s'est passé. » L'assistant a hésité, les traits tirés par l'inquiétude. « Mme Miller, M. Watson nous a demandé de ne pas vous impliquer dans les affaires. » « C'est une question de vie ou de mort. Penses-tu encore que me laisser dans l'ignorance est une option? » La patience de Joelle a craqué, et elle s'est retournée pour s'éloigner. « Mme Miller, c'est inutile. » La voix de l'assistant était lourde de désespoir. « Depuis le décès de votre père, le Groupe Watson repose entièrement sur les épaules de M. Watson. Il s'est battu pour maintenir la dignité de la famille afin que votre vie au sein de la famille Miller soit plus facile. » Pendant trois ans, Shawn s'est battu vaillamment pour maintenir la famille à flot. Sans le soutien financier d'Adrian, leurs efforts se seraient effondrés depuis longtemps. Le souhait le plus profond de Shawn était que Joelle vive confortablement, mais malgré ses efforts acharnés, il n'a jamais pu lui faire gagner le respect qu'elle méritait de la part de son mari. Peu importe les sacrifices de Shawn, Joelle était toujours méprisée dans la famille Miller. Joelle était furieuse, mais elle savait qu'elle ne pouvait pas changer sa réalité. Prenant une profonde inspiration, elle a demandé : « As-tu parlé de ma relation avec Adrian? » Elle espérait que le fait d'être alignée sur la famille Miller aiderait Shawn à tenir bon. « M. Watson refuse d'en parler. Il a peur que cela ne rende les choses plus difficiles pour vous. » Joelle a laissé échapper un rire amer. Depuis le début, elle n'avait jamais pu se tenir sur un pied d'égalité avec Adrian. Il n'était pas étonnant qu'il la méprise, car elle avait du mal à se supporter elle-même. Une heure auparavant, elle était déterminée à demander le divorce. À présent, elle s'accrochait au nom d'Adrian, désespérée de rendre la vie plus facile à Shawn. « Dis à Shawn que je suis la femme d'Adrian Miller, celle qu'Irene a sélectionnée. Tant que je serai Mme Miller, je ferai bonne figure dans la famille Miller!» Des pas ont résonné derrière elle. Joelle s'est retournée et a croisé le regard froid d'Adrian. À ses côtés se tenait une jeune fille à l'allure frêle, aux grands yeux innocents, qui s'accrochait ouvertement à Adrian. Le regard de celui-ci sur Joelle était empli d'un froid dédain, comme si le simple fait de reconnaître sa présence était un effort. Il avait vu clair dans son jeu ; Joelle ne voulait pas vraiment divorcer. La femme qui avait parlé si résolument de quitter la maison se tenait maintenant là, exhibant fièrement son titre de Mme Miller. Sa menace de divorcer n'était rien d'autre qu'un stratagème, comme une querelle d'amoureux qui se terminait par des menaces vides de sens. Cette femme rusée l'avait d**gué pour qu'il devienne son mari. Avec des tactiques aussi trompeuses, comment pouvait-elle facilement se défaire de cette union? Ce même mariage servait de bouée de sauvetage à sa famille en difficulté. Il avait donné au Groupe Watson une centaine de millions chaque année. Joelle serait idiote de risquer de perdre cette somme en divorçant. Chapitre 4 Elle a fini par comprendre Joelle était depuis longtemps devenue insensible à l'indifférence frileuse d'Adrian. Elle a observé tranquillement leurs bras entrelacés, ses pensées dérivant vers les doux moments capturés dans les vidéos de Rebecca qui avaient fait beaucoup d'envieux. Quel couple parfait! Cette pensée a des picotements Joelle. « Joelle, par pitié, ne te trompe pas!» La voix de Rebecca était empreinte d'urgence et elle a rapidement retiré sa main du bras d'Adrian. « Je ne vais pas bien et je ne peux pas marcher bien loin. Adie était juste assez gentil pour me soutenir. » Joelle a réussi à esquisser un léger sourire. « Qu'est-ce qui t'amène à l'hôpital? », a-t-elle demandé à Adrian, ignorant délibérément l'explication de Rebecca. « C'est à propos d'Erick », est intervenue Rebecca, les mains jointes devant elle comme une enfant repentante. « Je suis aussi venue te présenter mes excuses, Joelle. Désolée qu'Erick ait été si imprudent et que ton frère se soit retrouvé à l'hôpital. » Joelle a rétorqué : « J'ai bien entendu imprudent? Ton frère a failli t*er le mien, et tu penses que des excuses suffisent à arranger les choses? » Rebecca a tressailli, s'agrippant instinctivement à la manche d'Adrian pour se soutenir. La voix d'Adrian était aussi froide que l'hiver lorsqu'il a finalement pris la parole. « Ça suffit, Joelle. Ce n'était pas intentionnel. » Il s'est ensuite adressé à Rebecca avec un ton plus doux. « Allons-y. Tu n'es pas là pour voir Erick? » Une vague de prise de conscience glacée a envahi Joelle. Elle avait espéré naïvement qu'Adrian était là pour prendre des nouvelles de Shawn. Mais non, il avait juste accompagné Rebecca, pour voir Erick. Même s'il s'arrêtait pour voir Shawn, ce ne serait que par obligation, et cela ne pouvait pas aller plus loin. Elle savait qu'Adrian ne la défendrait jamais. « Rebecca, je n'oublierai pas ce qu'Erick a fait!», a dit Joelle. Les jambes de Rebecca se sont dérobées et elle s'est effondrée contre la poitrine d'Adrian. Andrian l'a rattrapée juste à temps. « Joelle, Erick ne voulait pas faire de mal. Il est aussi hospitalisé!» « Il est mort? Si ce n'est pas le cas, il doit payer pour ce qu'il a fait!» Joelle s'emportait rarement, mais cette fois-ci, c'était différent. Shawn était la seule famille qui lui restait. Son père, handicapé par une attaque cérébrale, gisait dans un état végétatif avec peu ou pas d'espoir de guérison, et sa mère avait péri dans un accident de voiture. Depuis ses dix-huit ans, il n'y avait plus qu'elle et Shawn pour affronter le monde ensemble. Pendant leurs heures les plus sombres, Shawn avait porté le fardeau seul, permettant à Joelle de poursuivre sa passion pour le violon. Aujourd'hui, l'idée de le perdre était insupportable. La seule chose qu'elle souhaitait, c'était la mort d'Erick. « Joelle, comment peux-tu dire ça? », a sangloté Rebecca, la voix tremblante d'incrédulité. La patience d'Adrian a craqué, et ses yeux sont devenus froids alors qu'ils se sont fixés sur Joelle. « Qu'est-ce que tu veux? » « Shawn a reçu deux notifications d'état critique. Qu'en est-il d'Erick? » Rebecca a sursauté, s'accrochant à Adrian comme s'il était la seule chose qui l'empêchait de s'effondrer. « Joelle, je t'en prie!Il ne me reste qu'un seul frère. Aie pitié, s'il te plaît!» Elle s'est ensuite évanouie avant que Joelle ne puisse répondre, ne laissant plus de place à l'argumentation. Adrian a pris Rebecca dans ses bras, ses yeux remplis de reproches froids alors qu'il regardait Joelle une dernière fois. Il s'est alors éloigné, laissant Joelle debout, ancrée sur place, incapable de bouger ou même de penser pendant ce qui lui a semblé être une éternité. Avant leur mariage, elle avait été la fille chérie, mais après, elle s'était réduite au rôle de servante d'Adrian. Avec le recul, elle s'est rendu compte à quel point elle avait été naïve. Elle était autrefois une personne très fière, mais maintenant elle endure toutes sortes de griefs juste pour faire plaisir à son mari. C'était pitoyable ! Cela fait trois ans, il est temps de divorcer et de commencer une nouvelle vie... ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichés est limité. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. 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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 к*ай н*жа. «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 н*жом. 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 по**ловала 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 по**луе. 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. «Ч*рт в*зьми! Да это же просто ц**ующаяся 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 п**оти 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 с*ксом 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 к**ви 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 ок**вавленные 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- | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 837 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.litradnovie.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.litradnovie.com/10251418-fb_contact-ruj17_6-1108-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1016312736312375&rawadid=120213512758010790 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466133512_1858333314703672_550424973321706827_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=WR8oUytywYIQ7kNvgFytleE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AwEPhyudA2173HV9rk_1Upu&oh=00_AYCNGin9ioXSRojzoRXsm9b09mgZHd6JHbcrqjss0l1OvA&oe=673C9B45 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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❤️😍 click to read on 👉 | Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again. | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u | Happyday | https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/ | 1,399 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&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/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=UrIs2WLSBvUQ7kNvgEZKaiE&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Afbzqki5EFK4TeElqYZ_fbz&oh=00_AYDCNZ0OnqHllTqQxEJR3f9x3v0u45ck2Wj8StAk22bQrg&oe=673C9874 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Happyday | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&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/t39.35426-6/464613788_1229065298338733_5472258890189944958_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=styPn9gkaFgQ7kNvgGvrSsN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A2tv-6LDKGfIZFln91ogWU_&oh=00_AYBNfY58fF1CMChACGbXgrWBTqvJ_aZgMSkDXLPSgJftsw&oe=673C71A1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uTZiEAPCA5gQ7kNvgFZEXjS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKRt83Lfn9J4iV9lEwK4bgi&oh=00_AYC6mSDpcNbt9spS9TBo9b_2N76ipry_NYHfPv9ybcUibQ&oe=673C65B5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing severe postpartum hemorrhage. Please, come and see her for the last time." The doctor anxiously pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone. But Juan Nichols'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 the eyes of the woman lying on the bed. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating Debra's vital signs had disappeared. In Debra's 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 died alone and tragically. 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 Miles. 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 she has never tried on before. 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. "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, the auction venue was filled with celebrities, and Juan walked to the entrance with Shelia. 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 his assistant 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, biting her lip. "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 and praise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=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/t39.35426-6/464176595_1056316475935566_659174090726662733_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l_JUb4wzuMEQ7kNvgEzNx1o&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsSdLUImkOMNeb1XevSEU_6&oh=00_AYAlPbLctLQnOOROK2I7I_POMyGiWB-j2pAWWgVm1AjsjA&oe=673C8341 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449688956_1121940968889821_4588828897944407849_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YDkpCTZfFxsQ7kNvgE873D1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Afbzqki5EFK4TeElqYZ_fbz&oh=00_AYC24wJySbEuLdQYp52LrS7EoFmYq6T0gCOdsYQdpeRsAA&oe=673C683B | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8pPRTafPJRgQ7kNvgESRz4U&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsSdLUImkOMNeb1XevSEU_6&oh=00_AYBtf76SnSkpRcZnuwkPQgDCDy4oxIp5abg59QFIdNNFMQ&oe=673C69CC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/461342866_403665495877678_8039372569247806790_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uTZiEAPCA5gQ7kNvgFZEXjS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKRt83Lfn9J4iV9lEwK4bgi&oh=00_AYC6mSDpcNbt9spS9TBo9b_2N76ipry_NYHfPv9ybcUibQ&oe=673C65B5 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-14 20:21 | active | 1815 | 0 | Read next chapter👉 | "Kaelyn knows about our wedding, and now she's threatening to jump off a building. You are aware of her depression, aren't you? I have to go save her," Theo explained impatiently and pushed Elyse aside. "Today is our wedding day! What am I supposed to do if you leave? Kaelyn Bennett totally stabbed you in the back before. She's caused you so much pain, why the heck must you go see her right now?" Theo's gaze turned even colder. "You're not in a position to judge what happened between me and Kaelyn. No matter her wrongs or the pain she caused, you don't measure up to her." Without a glance at her pale face, he strode away from the ornate altar. The man she had loved for three years, disregarding her dignity, had chosen another woman without a second thought on their big day. All around her, countless eyes watched, some mocking, some pitying, and others even gloating. Elyse had never felt such torment! Suddenly, there were noises nearby. Turning around, Elyse spotted a man in a suit sitting alone in a wheelchair. Wiping away her tears, she halted a passing staff member and inquired, "That man is a groom, right? Where is his bride?" The staff member glanced at her and responded, "She didn't show up. I heard it was because she couldn't deal with her husband's disability." "And he's been waiting here all this time?" The staff member nodded. After a moment of reflection, a determined look settled in Elyse's eyes. She had loved Theo for three years, but he had betrayed her. Why should she remain loyal to him? She realized she didn't need to be with him at all. She lifted the hem of her dress and confidently walked toward the man in the wheelchair. Hearing the rustle of her dress, the man in the wheelchair turned around slowly. Elyse halted and gazed at the handsome man before her, a spark of surprise in her eyes. She then extended her hand and said, "Hello, I heard you're in need of a bride. My groom just left me. How about we get married?" &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.com/55905322-fb_contact-e | Lime novel | https://www.facebook.com/100090847180115/ | 837 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.com | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.com/55905322-fb_contact-enp12_8-c3-0511-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1608252460124701&rawadid=120210958047680139 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465778169_967001815451878_7579712853154157452_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lW9ZTJ4rAqQQ7kNvgGj_v9P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMwXv7p772vocJWC83xntYy&oh=00_AYBDqM4VC6VGe4SEPnOeGvX6YVwU6hZnxvBK-AbFHYYt8Q&oe=673C9B99 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lime novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Unzerbrechliche Liebe | Im zweiten Jahr ihrer Ehe wurde Raegan schwanger. Sie war sehr glücklich, wartete aber auf eine schriftliche Scheidungsvereinbarung. Bei einem Autounfall lag Raegan in einer Blutlache und flehte Mitchel an, ihr Kind zu retten, aber Raegan sah, wie Mitchel mit Göttin in seinen Armen wegfuhr. Sie war sehr verzweifelt und schloss langsam ihre Augen. Später erfuhr sie, dass Mitchel aus der Nordstadt einen verbotenen Namen trug, den niemand erwähnen durfte. Bei der Hochzeit drehte Mitchel plötzlich durch, er kniete auf dem Boden und sah die rücksichtslose Frau mit roten Augen an: „Wen willst du mit meinem Kind verheiraten?“ &10& | WATCH_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/19863412-fb_contact-d | Bookreading love | https://www.facebook.com/100083419336572/ | 547 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Watch more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/19863412-fb_contact-dej57-1016-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=200518&accid=520381007425063&rawadid=120215522765630580 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465557687_1430766554510448_8093449348106090474_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YMIO5Z9Fb2wQ7kNvgGWY1fN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AwEPhyudA2173HV9rk_1Upu&oh=00_AYBt922B5azqYK_QlXJ70i8z2K2vVK5USiT948EZcG8u2A&oe=673C9D29 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Bookreading love | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464198210_1335425697867830_3839403089342624662_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xmYBkbCqSfAQ7kNvgFYBB7k&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A2tv-6LDKGfIZFln91ogWU_&oh=00_AYARLM9rK_lbEehsJNYmM3Dj8H4TG9RfhZgc8d3QM37mTg&oe=673C6780 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "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 helplessly. Who would take away the all the blood they needed at the last moment? 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 still don't want 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. 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 Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit. But 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 she had never tried on before. 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. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. "I'll wear this one," Debra made up her mind and 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 combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, 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 got a terrible taste, his wife is much prettier than the skinny woman he brought. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Meanwhile, 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, biting her lip. "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." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=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/t39.35426-6/464149885_1070713444281872_5769339457387931148_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0f91fYEk0eMQ7kNvgG4DAFA&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKRt83Lfn9J4iV9lEwK4bgi&oh=00_AYCs6jfgv_dJu8o61XHyhp5e7MXYSmd9VouLwE2SUfdsiw&oe=673C7653 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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❤️😍What happens next👉 | Chapter 1 Yvette Snyder stood at the entrance of the hospital, her body frail, clutching a report in her thin hands. Three words on the report stood out: "No conception detected". "You've been married for three years. How are you not conceived?" Her mother, Yara Cadwell, demanded, jabbing a finger in Yvette's face disappointedly. Yara was dressed lavishly and wore high heels. "Why are you so useless? If you don't get conceived soon, the Lanes are going to kick you out of the family. What's going to happen to our family then?" Yvette looked at Yara blankly. She had a lot to say, but the words were stuck in her throat. In the end, all she could manage was, "I'm sorry." "I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to give birth to Xavier's child. Do you understand me?" Yvette's throat felt tight; she didn't know how to answer Yara. In their three years of marriage, her husband, Xavier Lane, had never slept with her. How could she ever have his child? Yara stared at Yvette. The latter's weak demeanor was so unlike her own. Finally, she said coldly before leaving, "If you really can't give him a child, then find him a woman who can. At least he'll appreciate you for that." Yvette stared after Yara's retreating figure in disbelief. Had her own mother just told her to find another woman for her husband to sleep with? ... As Yvette made her journey home, she couldn't stop thinking about Yara's parting words. Suddenly, a loud ringing in her ear drowned out her thoughts. She knew that her condition had worsened. Just then, she received a message on her phone. It was from Xavier, and the content was the same as always. "I'm not coming home tonight." In the past three years they had been married, Xavier had never spent the night at home before. He had never so much as touched Yvette either. Yvette could remember their wedding night three years ago. He had told her, "Since your family is bold enough to trick me into marrying you, you'd better be prepared to spend the rest of your life in loneliness." Three years ago, the Snyder and Lane families had decided to form an alliance through marriage. Both families had agreed to mutually beneficial terms in the agreement. But when the day of the wedding came around, the Snyder family went back on their word and transferred all of their assets away, including the billions that Xavier had paid to marry Yvette. Yvette's eyes dulled at the memory. She replied to Xavier's text with her usual response: "Okay." Without her realizing it, the report she was holding got scrunched up in her hands. When she got home, Yvette tossed the report into the trash can. Every month, around this time, she would feel unusually lethargic. Yvette didn't prepare dinner for herself. She just leaned back on the couch, blearily drifting in and out of sleep. The rumbling in her ear persisted. That was another reason why Xavier hated her—she was hard of hearing, which, to the rich and powerful, was no better than being crippled. Xavier would never allow her to carry his child. … At 5 o'clock in the morning, the pendulum clock on the wall chimed dully. Xavier would be home in an hour. Yvette realized too late that she had fallen asleep on the couch. She got up hastily and went to the kitchen to prepare Xavier's breakfast. Xavier was a meticulous man who was strict about punctuality, not only with himself but also with the people around him. He arrived home at six o'clock sharp. Xavier was a tall and handsome man. Clad in a smart tailored suit, his demeanor was quiet and reserved, yet undoubtedly masculine. However, to Yvette, he was cold and distant. Xavier didn't even look at Yvette. He walked right past her to look at the food on the table and said with a scoff, "You do this every day. Are you a nanny or what?" Over the past three years, Yvette had been doing the same things over and over again. She wore the same dark clothes and replied to his messages with the same singular word. If it hadn't been for the business alliance and the Snyders' deceit, Xavier would never have married a woman like Yvette. At the word "nanny", the rumbling in Yvette's ears returned. She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat, and said bravely, "Xav, do you have someone that you like?" Her sudden question surprised Xavier. His eyes darkened. "What do you mean by that?" Yvette raised her head and stared at him, swallowing the bile rising in the back of her throat. "If you love someone else, you can be with her—" Before she could finish, Xavier interrupted her. "You're mad." ... After Xavier left, Yvette sat on the balcony alone, staring out into the cold rain. The sound of the raindrops drifted in and out of clarity. She took off her hearing aids, letting the world around her fall into silence. A month ago, her doctor had told her, "Ms. Snyder, there's been a pathological change in your auditory nerves and some of your cranial nerves, causing your hearing to worsen. If this goes on, you may lose your hearing completely." Not used to a silent world, Yvette went to the living room and turned on the television. She turned up the volume to the max, which allowed her to hear some sound. By coincidence, the television was showing an interview with Daphne Reyes, an internationally renowned singer known for her love songs. Yvette's hands trembled slightly as she gripped the remote control. Daphne was Xavier's first love. It had been a long time since Yvette had seen her, but Daphne was still as pretty as ever. She was confident and relaxed in front of the cameras, unlike the shy and frightened young woman who had begged the Snyders for sponsorship in the past. When the interviewer asked Daphne why she had returned to her home country, her answer was bold. "I came home to get my first love back." The remote control slipped out of Yvette's hands. Her heart also fell to her stomach. Flustered, Yvette turned off the television and went to the table to clean up the uneaten breakfast. When she got to the kitchen, she found that Xavier had forgotten to take his phone. She picked it up and saw the unread messages on the lock screen. "Xav, you must have been unhappy over the past few years, right?" "I know you don't love her. How about we meet up tonight? I've missed you." Yvette stared blankly at the messages until the screen went dark again. Then, she called a cab to Xavier's office. On the way, she stared out of the window. The rain fell incessantly. It felt like it would never stop. Xavier never liked it when Yvette visited him at his office, so whenever she was there, she would take the service elevator from the loading bay. When Xavier's assistant, Mark Xyrax, saw her, he just greeted her impassively, "Ms. Snyder." No one around Xavier considered Yvette his wife. She was nothing but a smear on his reputation. When Xavier saw Yvette bringing him his phone, he frowned. She was always like this. No matter what he forgot, be it his lunch, his documents, a shirt, or even an umbrella, she would bring them to him. "I thought I told you that you didn't need to deliver my things to me yourself." Yvette froze. "Sorry, I forgot." Since when had her memory been so bad? Maybe she had panicked after seeing Daphne's message and became afraid that Xavier would disappear from her life suddenly. Before she left, she looked back at Xavier. Unable to help herself, she blurted out, "Xav, do you still like Daphne?" Xavier thought that Yvette had been behaving rather strangely lately. She kept forgetting things and asking weird questions. How could a person like her be his wife? Impatiently, he replied, "If you have so much free time, go find yourself something to do." Yvette had tried getting a job before, but Xavier's mother, Shannon Guetta, had reprimanded her without holding back. "Do you want the whole world to know that Xav married a disabled woman with hearing issues?" Therefore, Yvette had given up on finding a job and focused on her fruitless life as "Mrs. Lane" at Dewberry Estate. … At home, she sat alone until nightfall. She couldn't sleep. Just then, the phone on her bedside table rang loudly. It was a call from an unfamiliar number. Yvette picked up the call. A familiar voice, yet one she dreaded, sounded from the other end. "Is this Yvvy? Xav is drunk. Can you come pick him up?" When Yvette arrived at Sternhow Club, she heard loud coaxing and jeering from the wealthy heirs inside the private room. "Daph, didn't you say you came back to get our dear Mr. Lane back into your arms? This is your chance now. Go on, tell him how you feel!" Daphne was a pretty woman who was popular wherever she went. She was also Xavier's first love, so the rich young men of the upper crust were happy to push the two together. Daphne wasn't shy at all. She turned to Xavier and said without any reservations, "I like you, Xav. Please be with me again." That was what Yvette heard when she arrived at the door of the private room. Inside, the other people were urging Xavier to answer Daphne. His best friend, Tristan Shaw, was the most vocal among them. "Xav, you've been waiting for Daphne for three years. She's back now. So, go on, answer her!" Yvette stood frozen outside the door. Her heart was pounding. Just then, one of the men pulled the door open. "Ms. Snyder?" Chapter 2 Everyone in the private room looked over at the door. For a moment, the room was eerily silent. Yvette immediately caught sight of Xavier in the middle of the room. His eyes were clear and bright. He was clearly not drunk. She knew that she had been tricked by Daphne. When Xavier saw Yvette, his pupils constricted. Everyone else in the room looked awkward, including Tristan, who had been the most vocal in getting Xavier to accept Daphne's confession earlier. Yvette shouldn't have gone there. Daphne was the first to break the silence. "Please don't get the wrong idea, Yvvy. Tristan was joking. Xavier and I are just friends." Before Yvette could answer, Xavier stood up impatiently. "There's no need to explain it to her." Then, he stalked over to Yvette. "What are you doing here?" "I thought you were drunk, so I came to take you home," Yvette answered truthfully. Xavier scoffed. "You really didn't retain anything I told you, did you?" Lowering his voice, he said softly so that only she could hear him, "Are you here to remind everyone that I was tricked into marrying you three years ago? Did you think they forgot?" Yvette was stunned. Xavier gave her a cold look. "Stop seeking attention. You're only making me hate you more." With that, he turned away, leaving Yvette standing alone. Yvette stared after his retreating figure, unable to snap out of her shock. None of the other scions in the room took pity on her when they saw Xavier ignoring her. Tristan even had no qualms in telling Daphne, who was feigning distress, "You're too kind, Daphne. You didn't need to explain anything. "If Yvette hadn't scammed Xav, he would've married you in the first place. You wouldn't have needed to suffer abroad as well." Despite the constant ringing in her ears, Yvette could still hear every word clearly. She knew better than anyone that even if Xavier hadn't married her, he wouldn't have married Daphne. Daphne was a nobody with no background, after all. Daphne was well aware of this as well. That was why she had chosen to break up with Xavier and leave the country. How had everything turned out to be Yvette's fault? When Yvette left Sternhow Club with her umbrella, she felt as if she had been enveloped by darkness. Just then, a lithe figure appeared beside her. It was Daphne. She was decked out in fine clothes, complete with high heels. She looked smug. "It's a cold night, isn't it? So, how does it feel to get scoffed at by Xavier after you came all the way here at this time to get him?" Yvette didn't answer her, but Daphne didn't mind her silence. She just continued speaking. "I do pity you, you know. You've never experienced true love before, have you? "Do you know that when I was with Xav, he would cook for me himself? When I was sick, he would drop everything and stay with me. "Has Xav ever told you he loves you? He used to say that to me all the time…" Yvette listened to Daphne's rambling quietly, her mind going over the past three years she had been married to Xavier. He had never so much as stepped into the kitchen during that time. When she had gotten sick, he had never comforted her. He had never told her he loved her either. … That night, Yvette couldn't fall asleep. She had only just found out that the man she had loved for the past 12 years had once loved another with all his heart, in the spectacular way that only young people could. At that moment, she realized that it was time for her to give him up. She had a sleepless night. The next morning, Xavier returned home. The glare he gave her was cold. "How attached are you to the Lane family's money, to me, your money-making robot?" he demanded. Yvette was stunned. She didn't know what had gotten into him so early in the morning. Instinctively, she said, "I never wanted your money." She had only ever wanted Xavier. Xavier laughed in disdain. "Then, why did your mother come to my office and beg me to give you a child?" Yvette was stunned. She stared into Xavier's eyes. It was only then that she realized that he wasn't angry about what had happened last night. Xavier had no desire to waste his breath on her. "If you want to continue staying with me and keep your family afloat, tell your mother to behave herself!" ... In the end, Yvette didn't need to look for Yara. Yara found Yvette instead. She was no longer cold and distant; she gripped Yvette's hands and said gently, "Yvvy, you should ask Xavier to give you a child. He doesn't have to do it biologically. He could do it through scientific measures." Scientific measures. Yvette stared at Yara in shock as the latter continued, "Daphne told me that Xavier hasn't slept with you in the past three years." That was the last straw for Yvette. She didn't know why Xavier would tell Daphne about that. Maybe he really loved Daphne a lot. With that thought, she suddenly felt relieved. "Just let it go, Mom." Yara paused. She frowned. "What?" "I'm tired. I want to get a divorce—" Before she could finish, Yara slapped her hard across the face. The kind, motherly facade was gone in an instant. She jabbed a finger at Yvette and gritted out, "You have no right to ask for a divorce! "Without the Lane family, what do you think you're going to do? Who's going to remarry a disabled divorcee like you?" Yvette felt her body go numb. Yara had never liked Yvette, even when the latter had been a child. Yara had been a famous dancer. The fact that she had given birth to a daughter with hearing issues was one of her biggest regrets. Therefore, she had sent Yvette away to be taken care of by a nanny. She had only allowed Yvette to return home when the latter started school. People used to tell Yvette that every mother loved their child. So, she had done everything she could to excel at everything in hopes of making Yara happy. Despite her hearing issues, she had been at the top of her class in dance, music, and art classes. But no matter how hard she tried, Yara still didn't consider her a good daughter. In Yara's words, Yvette wasn't "complete". Not only physically, but also in love and familial relationships. After Yara left, Yvette used some makeup to cover up the red print on her face. Then, she packed her bags quietly. Even after three years of married life, all her personal belongings fit into a single suitcase. After she finished packing up, she gathered her courage and sent Xavier a message. "Are you free tonight? I need to talk to you." Xavier didn't reply to her. Yvette's eyes darkened. She knew that he didn't want to reply to her messages. All she could do was wait for him to come home in the morning. She had thought that he wouldn't come home that night, but he got back at midnight. Yvette wasn't asleep at the time. She went up to him and took his coat and bag from him with familiarity in her actions. It was as if they were a normal married couple. Xavier's cold voice broke the peace. "Don't send me inane texts again." As Yvette held Xavier's coat, her hand trembled slightly. "I won't do it again," she mumbled. Xavier didn't notice anything wrong with her tone. He went straight to his study. Generally, if he came home, he would stay holed up in his study. He probably thought that someone who was hard of hearing would live in a silent world. Either that, or he simply didn't care about Yvette. That would explain why he got straight to discussing his acquisition of Snyder Group in his study as if nothing was wrong. When Yvette brought him some soup, she heard Xavier animatedly discussing work with his employees. He was talking about the acquisition of Snyder Group, her father, James Snyder's company. She didn't know how to feel about that. She knew that her brother, Terrence Synder, was useless at running a business, so it was only a matter of time before Snyder Group fell. However, she had never thought that her own husband would be the first to cause Snyder Group's downfall. "Xav," she interrupted. Xavier was slightly startled. Out of guilt, or maybe some other emotion, he quickly hung up the phone and closed his laptop. Feigning ignorance, Yvette walked into the study and placed the bowl in front of him. "Have some soup, then get to bed soon. Your health is more important than work." For some reason, Xavier felt himself relax when he heard her soft voice. She probably hadn't heard anything. Feeling conflicted, he stopped Yvette before she could leave. "You said you wanted to talk to me. What is it?" Hearing this, Yvette turned back to look at him. Softly, she said, "I just wanted to ask if you're free in the morning so we can go and file for divorce." Chapter 3 Yvette's voice was calm and impassive, as though divorce were a menial matter to her. Xavier's pupils contracted. "What did you just say?" Over the last three years, no matter what he had done, Yvette had never brought up divorce. In truth, Xavier knew that Yvette loved him. Her eyes, which were usually dull and empty, were clear and bright now. "I'm sorry for being a burden over the last few years, Mr. Lane. We should get divorced." Xavier clenched his fists unconsciously. "You heard what I said earlier, didn't you? Snyder Group was already failing; it won't matter whether I buy it or someone else does. What are you trying to do by bringing up divorce? "Is it because you want money? Or a child? Or do you want me to leave Snyder Group alone?" he asked coldly. "Don't forget that I don't love you. Your threats won't work on me!" At that moment, he seemed like a stranger to Yvette. A lump formed in her throat as her ears began throbbing. Even though she was wearing her hearing aids, she could barely hear what Xavier was saying. She could only answer his last question. "I don't want anything." Afraid that he would notice something wrong with her, Yvette left the study in a hurry. As he watched her leave, Xavier felt frustrated for some reason. He had never felt like this before. Not one to hold in his emotions, he flipped the table over. The bowl of soup that Yvette had brought him spilled all over the ground. ... Back in her own room, Yvette forced herself to swallow a handful of pills. She reached up to touch her ear. As she retracted her fingers, she saw crimson blood on them. Thanks to the medicine, her hearing recovered a little by the time it was dawn. Yvette stared blankly at the soft rays of sunlight streaming from the window. "The rain has stopped," she said quietly to herself. Xavier didn't leave the manor that day. He was in the living room bright and early, settled on the couch, waiting for Yvette to apologize and express her regret to him. This wasn't the first time Yvette had lost her temper with him. However, after every tantrum, she would apologize to him before long. Xavier figured that it would be the same this time around. Soon, he saw Yvette coming out of her room, all freshened up. She wore her usual dark-colored clothes. She dragged a suitcase with one hand while holding a piece of paper in the other. She handed the paper to him. It was a divorce agreement. "Let me know when you have time, Xav." With that, she left the manor, pulling her suitcase behind her. It was bright and sunny outside. Yvette felt as if she had gotten a new chance at life. Meanwhile, Xavier sat frozen on the couch, still clutching the divorce agreement in his hand. It took him a long time to come back to his senses. It was Saturday. Usually, around this time of the year, Xavier would take Yvette back to his hometown to pay respects to his ancestors. During this time, they would have to endure strange looks from his extended family. However, he was alone that day, which made him extraordinarily happy. At Lane Mansion, Shannon and the rest of the Lanes were surprised to see him alone. In the past, Yvette had always been the first one to turn up every year and the last to leave since she had been trying to please everyone. Why wasn't she there today? Shanon frowned and asked Xavier, "Where's Yvette, Xav?" Xavier's expression turned cold. "She wanted a divorce and left me." Everyone fell silent in disbelief when he said that. Shannon was shocked. She knew that Yvette probably loved Xavier more than anything in the world, only surpassed by his own parents. Seven years ago, Yvette had even protected Xavier with her own body when someone had attempted to stab him. Four years ago, not long after the two had gotten engaged, something had happened to Xavier while he had been on a business trip in Dibay. Everyone had been convinced that he was dead, but Yvette had refused to believe that. She had dropped everything and gone to the foreign city just to look for him. Then, after they had gotten married, Yvette had taken care of almost everything in his life with meticulous precision, including being polite to everyone around him, even his secretaries. She had always been afraid of offending them. Yvette clearly couldn't live without Xavier. So, why had she suggested getting a divorce? Shannon had no idea, but she was glad that Yvette had finally decided to let Xavier go. "She's not worthy to be your wife anyway. It's a good thing that you're divorcing her. She doesn't deserve you," she said The others immediately chimed in. "Yeah, you're young and handsome, Xav. You're in your best years now. Yvette's been dragging you down all this time!" Instantly, the gathering turned into a slander fest. They spoke of Yvette as if she were an unforgivable criminal. Xavier should have felt happy that they were defending him, but for some reason, he found their words too sharp and crass. He left Lane Mansion earlier than usual and made his way back to Dewberry Estate. The sky was just starting to darken when he arrived home. He opened the door and entered the manor. When he saw nothing but darkness, he remembered, with a start, that Yvette had left. He changed into his house slippers and tossed his coat into the washer. For some reason, he felt unusually exhausted today. He went to the wine cellar to get a bottle of wine so that he could celebrate Yvette's leaving. However, when he got to the wine cellar and saw the locked door, he realized too late that he didn't have the key. He didn't like strangers in his house, so there were no maids or servants at Dewberry Estate. Ever since he had married Yvette, she had been the one taking care of the household affairs. He could only go back to his room. Picking up his phone, he scrolled through his messages only to find work-related texts. Yvette hadn't called or texted him to apologize at all. Tossing his phone aside, he got up and headed over to the kitchen. When he opened the door of the fridge, he was stunned. Apart from food, there were also a lot of supplements. He picked one of the bags up and read the instructions on it. "Take five times a day for incapable of conceived." He took a whiff of the supplement. It smelled disgusting. He recalled that Yvette always smelled strange. So, this was why. He scoffed silently. They had never slept, so no matter how much medicine she took, she would never have gotten conceived. ... Meanwhile, over in a dark and dinky hotel, Yvette opened her eyes blearily. Her head was pounding. The world was silent. She knew, then, that her condition had worsened again. Before this, she had still been able to hear some sounds, even without her hearing aids. She pushed herself up and felt around on the bedside table until she found her medicine. She popped the pills in her mouth, tasting their bitterness. The day before, she had left Dewberry Estate, which had been her home for the past three years. At first, she had gone to her parents' house, Snyder Residence. However, at the door, she had overheard Yara and Terrence discussing how they would marry her off to an old man if the Lanes kicked her out. Yvette had blanked upon hearing that. It was then that she finally realized that she had no place to call home anymore. Even though she hadn't eaten anything in two days, she still didn't feel hungry. However, it was too quiet. The silence scared her. It had been raining more frequently in Tirion this year than it had in previous years. Yvette stared out at the passing pedestrians. Most of them were paired up or in groups. She was the only one alone. She bought a bus ticket heading out of the city. She decided to go to her nanny's house in the countryside. Viola Xenos, her nanny, had taken care of her when she was a child. It was already 9:00 pm when Yvette got there. When Viola saw Yvette, she looked pleasantly surprised. Yvette teared up when she saw Viola's warm smile. She reached out to her and hugged her. "Viola." Due to health issues, Viola had never married and didn't have children of her own. Yvette was closer to her than she was to her own mother. That night, Yvette cuddled up in Viola's embrace, just like she had when she was a child. Viola wrapped her arms around Yvette, only to realize that the latter was very thin. She pressed a hand on the Yvette's bony back, trembling uncontrollably. Forcing herself to calm down, she asked cautiously, "Has Xavier been treating you well, Yvvy?" Yvette felt a sharp pain in her throat when she heard Xavier's name. She wanted to lie to Viola and tell her that Xavier had treated her well, but she knew that Viola wasn't silly. Since she had already made up her mind to leave him, there was no need to lie to herself or to the people who loved her any longer. "The person he loves has returned. I've decided to let him go and divorce him." Viola was stunned. She couldn't believe her ears. Yvette had told her multiple times before that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Xavier. Not knowing what else to say, she comforted Yvette by telling her that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. There was bound to be one who would love her. Yvette just nodded silently. The buzzing in her ears drowned out Viola's comforting voice. That night, she managed to get a good night's sleep, which was rare. However, when she woke up, she was greeted with the alarming sight of blood staining the spot where her head had laid on the pillow. Yvette touched her right ear. Her fingers felt sticky. She looked at her hand. It was covered in blood. Chapter 4 Even Yvette's hearing aids were stained red. Her pupils contracted, and she quickly grabbed some tissues to wipe her ear. Then, she stripped the bedsheets and washed them. She was afraid that Viola would worry about her if she found out that her illness was worsening. So, she cleaned up the mess and found an excuse to bid goodbye to Viola. Before she left, she placed a part of her savings on the bedside table without telling Viola. Viola walked Yvette to the bus stop and waved goodbye reluctantly. … After Yvette left, Viola couldn't stop thinking about how thin the former was. Unable to just sit by, she called Lane Group. When the secretary heard that Viola was Yvette's nanny and wanted to speak to Xavier, she transferred the call to Xavier's line. It was the third day after Yvette had left Xavier. It was also the first time in three days that he had received a call about her. Sitting behind his desk, he felt exceptionally pleased. Just as he had expected, Yvette wouldn't be able to last more than three days without him—or so he thought. Viola's voice came through the other line, sounding weighed with age. "Mr. Lane, I am Yvvy's nanny. I've been taking care of her since she was a baby. "Please, I beg you, treat her well. Don't hurt her more than you already have. She's not as strong as she seems on the surface. "When she was born, Mrs. Snyder left her in my care because she didn't like that Yvvy is hard of hearing. Yvvy only returned home when she had to start going to school. "The Snyders have never treated her as one of their own. Apart from Mr. Snyder, everyone else treated her like she was a maid. "You and Mr. Snyder are the most important people she has in this world. I'm begging you, please. Please be kind to her." Xavier's mood darkened when he heard what Viola said. "Did she tell you to give me this sob story because she didn't want to face me herself?" he asked coldly. "Why should I care about her life? If you ask me, she deserved everything she got!" That said, he hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. Viola had heard Yvette gushing about how nice Xavier was to her. So, it was only then that she realized the truth—Xavier wasn't a good man at all. He wasn't a good husband to Yvette. ... Yvette sat on the bus, heading home. Just then, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Xavier. "You said you wanted to get divorced, right? I'll see you at 10:00 am tomorrow." Yvette stared at the text blankly for a while before replying, "Okay." Just one word. It infuriated Xavier and completely ruined his mood. Unable to work anymore, he called up his friends and invited them out for drinks. Daphne was also at the club when he arrived. "I'm not going home until I'm drunk!" she declared. Tristan sat down beside Xavier. He couldn't help asking curiously, "How's Deaf Yvvy?" Xavier raised an eyebrow at him. "There's no need to talk about her ever again. We're filing for divorce tomorrow." Tristan was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears. "Really?" Beside them, Daphne brightened. She poured out a shot for him. "Congrats on getting back your freedom, Xav!" Xavier drank a lot that night. Daphne offered to send him home, but he rejected her suggestion. "No need. It's not appropriate." If he and Yvette were going to get divorced tomorrow, she might come home that night. Daphne wasn't happy about the rejection. "Why? You're divorcing her anyway. Why wouldn't it be appropriate? Are you still scared that she might find out about our relationship?" Their relationship? Xavier narrowed his eyes. "You're overthinking this." He got into his own car. Out of consideration, he also called a cab to send Daphne home. On the drive home, he kept unlocking his phone to check if Yvette had sent him any messages. She hadn't. When he reached Dewberry Estate, it was dark. With a stormy expression, Xavier opened the door and turned on the light. Yvette was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't come home. The manor was left exactly the way it had been when she had left. Still feeling the effects of the wine, Xavier threw himself heavily onto the couch and soon fell asleep. In his nightmares, Yvette was covered in blood, but there was a smile on her face. "I don't love you anymore, Xav," she said. When Xavier jolted awake, the sky outside had just brightened up. He rubbed his forehead and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up. Then, he changed into a smart suit and made his way to the courthouse. At the entrance of the courthouse, he spotted Yvette standing under a tree not far off. As usual, she was dressed in dark-colored clothes. From the distance, she looked incredibly frail and thin as she stood amid the drizzle. It was as if a single gust of wind could knock her over. Xavier could still remember how young and lively she had been when they had first gotten married. She hadn't been as thin and gloomy back then. Holding an umbrella, he walked toward Yvette. It took her a few moments to notice him. Xiaver hadn't changed much over the last three years. He was as handsome and as confident as ever, with the added hint of matureness that came with age. Yvette was a little dazed. The last three years felt like a blink in time to her, yet she also seemed to have exhausted a whole lifetime. Xavier stalked over to Yvette and gazed at her coldly. He was waiting for her to apologize to him. She had been sulking enough. It was time to put an end to this. However, Yvette just said, "I'm sorry to pull you away from your work. Let's go in." Xavier stiffened, but he quickly recovered. "Don't regret this." With that, he turned and headed into the courthouse. Yvette stared after him sadly. Would she regret this? She didn't know either. In the courthouse, the judge asked them if they were sure about going through with the divorce. Yvette's answer was firm. "Yes." Her determined expression frustrated Xavier. After filing for divorce, they still had to return to the courthouse in a month. If they didn't show up, then the divorce would be considered null. As they left the courthouse, Yvette looked at Xavier, her expression unusually calm. "I'll see you next month. Take care." With that, she stepped out into the rain, hailed a cab, and left. Xavier was left standing on the spot. He didn't know how to feel as he watched her car leave. Relieved, probably. Relieved that he wouldn't need to put up with her any longer or endure others' ridicule for having a disabled wife. ... In the cab, Yvette leaned against the window and stared blankly at the rain droplets on the glass. In the rearview mirror, the driver suddenly saw blood dripping from her ear. He was shocked by the sight. "Miss? Miss!" Yvette didn't answer him. The driver hastily stopped the car. Yvette was confused. They weren't at her destination yet. Why had they stopped? She looked over at the driver and saw him mouthing silently. She realized that she had gone deaf again. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. What are you saying?" In the end, the driver had to type out what he wanted to say on his phone so that he could tell her about her bleeding ear. Yvette reached out belatedly and felt the warm sensation in her ear. She was used to it now. "It's alright. This happens all the time. I'm fine." She was hard of hearing, but her ears hadn't bled like this before. Two years ago, at a gathering, Tristan had pushed her into a swimming pool. Yvette didn't know how to swim, so she had almost drowned. At the same time, her eardrums had also expanded due to the pressure. She had been sent to the hospital, but the damage had been done. At the time, she had been told that everything was fine. Why was this happening again? The cab driver was still worried, so he dropped her off at the hospital she told him. After thanking him, Yvette went into the hospital on her own. This time, she saw her usual doctor, Tom Jensen. "Dr. Jensen, my memory has been rather bad lately. I kept forgetting what I'm doing," she said. When she had woken up at the hotel that morning, it had taken her a long time to remember that she had to file for divorce with Xavier. Tom looked at her latest report worriedly. "Ms. Snyder, I think you should consider getting tested for other things. Specifically, mental health issues." Mental health… Following Tom's recommendation, Yvette went and got a psychiatric diagnosis. She was diagnosed with depression. It turned out that patients with severe depression often experienced memory loss. Before heading back to the hotel, Yvette stopped and bought a notebook and a pen. She wrote down everything that had happened lately. She placed the notebook right beside her bed so that it would be the first thing she saw when she woke up in the morning. News of her and Xavier's divorce spread quickly. That night, Yara called her multiple times, but she didn't hear anything. … When she woke up the next morning, she saw a barrage of texts from Yara. "Where are you?" "Who do you think you are? Even if you're getting a divorce, Xavier should have been the one to ask for it!" "You're such a jinx! Back when you got married, your dad got into a car crash and died. What's going to happen now that you're getting divorced? Do you want Snyder Group to go bankrupt? Is that it?" Yvette stared at the messages. She was used to the verbal bully by now. She typed out a reply. "Mom, it's time that we live by our own merits. We shouldn't depend on others so much." Yara's response was swift. "You're such an ingrate! I shouldn't have given birth to you in the first place!" Yvette didn't bother replying to that. She placed her phone aside. She just had to wait a month. Once the divorce was finalized, she would be able to leave Tirion and start a new life. … Yvette's health worsened over the next few days. She often found herself completely deaf. Sometimes, it took a very long time for her hearing to go back to normal. Her memory was deteriorating too. On the bright side, even though her hearing loss was incurable, at least she could do something about the depression. She tried everything she could to keep herself happy. She busied herself by registering as a volunteer online. She spent time taking care of abandoned old people and orphans. Helping them made her feel like she had a reason to continue living. A few days later, Yvette woke up in the morning and checked her notebook as usual. Then, she got ready to head out to the orphanage. When she picked up her phone, she saw several unread messages. There were messages from Terrance and Yara, as well as Daphne. She opened the texts one by one. Yara: "As you wished, Snyder Group is no more." Terrence: "Keep hiding. You're the most cowardly and cruel person I've ever seen." Daphne: "My condolences, Yvette. Actually, I think Snyder Group would thrive better under Xav." Daphne: "Since your family has helped me so much in the past, do let me know if you need anything. I'll help you if I can." Yvette had no idea what was happening. She closed the messaging app. Almost immediately, she got a notification about the latest news. Chapter 5 Yvette watched the news and saw the press conference held by Lane Group. It was an announcement that Xavier had successfully acquired Snyder Group. James' company no longer existed in the world. … Things on Xavier's end had been extra pleasant lately. He had acquired Snyder Group and gotten his revenge. "The Snyder family finally got what they deserved for tricking you into that marriage three years ago." Tristan chuckled. Yet, he changed the topic in the next instant. He asked Xavier, "Xav, has Deaf Yvvy approached you during the past few days?" Xavier froze halfway through signing a document. He didn't know why, but people around him kept mentioning Yvette these days. "No," he replied coldly. That shocked Tristan. After all, how could Yvette not do anything when something this massive had happened to her family? With that in mind, he spoke again. "Could it be that she's finally come around? I heard her family has been looking everywhere for her. Nobody knows where she's gone—" He kept blabbering on. Xavier frowned, feeling utterly annoyed. "Get out!" Tristan jolted. That was when he realized that Xavier was furious. Not daring to say another word, Tristan bolted out of the CEO's office. Once outside, he took his phone and called his assistant, Avery Fitzpatrick. "Have you found Yvette?" "Yes, she's in a small hotel in Hexim Pass," answered Avery. Tristan had Avery send him the location before he drove there. He refused to let Yvette off the hook so easily. So what if she was willing to divorce Xavier now? She had already prevented Xavier and Daphne from being together for over three years! Besides, Daphne had saved Tristan's life once, so he owed her. It rained outside. Yvette finished her volunteer work and picked up her medication from the hospital. Then, she held an umbrella while walking back to the hotel. There were very few people on the road. Tristan drove his car but kept his eyes on Yvette's slim back. He deliberately sped up as he drove past her, sending a puddle of rainwater splashing onto her. Yvette shot him a blank stare. Tristan happened to meet her emotionless gaze through his rearview mirror. He didn't know why, but he felt inexplicably nervous. Yvette recognized Tristan's luxurious, dark gray Bugatti. Yet, she retracted her gaze and pretended not to notice him. Even so, Tristan refused to stop there. He deliberately slowed his car and followed her. "Hey, Deaf Yvvy. So, you have a temper now, huh? "You're not even going to greet me now? Didn't you used to love greeting me? Didn't you enjoy tickling my fancy?" Yvette remained stoic while the former mocked her. She used to do everything to win over those around Xavier, including his friends. It was all because she liked him. She had figured that Xavier's family and friends would one day accept her. Alas, it seemed she had been too naïve. At the previous gathering, Tristan had declared that he was Daphne's friend. He couldn't care less about maintaining his gentlemanly, upper-class image when siding with Daphne. He had insulted Yvette and called her shameless. In the end, he had also thrown her into the pool, leaving her to die. Since then, Yvette had steered clear of him. Upon receiving no reaction or response from Yvette, Tristan stopped the car, opened the door, and strolled toward her. He grabbed her arm and asked, "What stunts are you planning to pull this time?" Yvette's arm hurt, so she looked up at him. "I don't know what you're saying." She wanted to pry his hand off her arm, but he flung her aside. "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!" Tristan bellowed. Yvette stumbled backward before falling to the ground with a loud thud. Tristan froze on the spot in slight disbelief. It baffled him to see Yvette resorting to such tricks. He had only pushed her with a slight force, so how could she fall like that? Seeing people looking their way, he nervously got back into his car. Still, he gave her a warning before driving away. "Don't mess with Daph just because you're a disabled person, Yvette! "She's different from you. It's taken her a lot of effort to get to where she is now, so you'd better not disrupt her and Xav's relationship again!" After driving away, he even told the Snyder family where Yvette was staying. Yvette's hands and knees were scraped when she fell. It hurt so much that she couldn't stand for a long time. Deep down, she didn't understand why Tristan was so blind to what was right and wrong. She recalled risking her life to rescue him from a car that had been about to explode four years ago. His face had been covered in blood, and his eyes hadn't been visible. However, he had spoken in the warmest voice. He had said, "Thank you. I promise I'll repay you someday." Yvette couldn't help but bitterly wonder if this was his way of repaying her. … Once Yvette returned to the hotel, she took a shower and applied medication to her scraped skin. Then, she lay down in a daze. The fall hardened her determination to leave Xavier for good. … The sun was shining brightly outside when Yvette woke up. She got up and headed to the living area, only to see Yara sitting on the couch, wearing a formal dress. Yara didn't seem to care one bit that Yvette had just woken up. She picked the document off the coffee table and handed it to the latter. "Take a good look at this. It's the backup plan I've selected for you." Yvette accepted the document but saw the title "prenuptial agreement" on the cover. She flipped through the pages while reading the contents aloud. "Ms. Yvette Snyder will marry Mr. Liam Lorimer. As his wife, she'll devote herself to him and look after him until the end of his life. Liam will look after Yvette's family, which includes maintaining their quality of life. He'll also provide 300 million as funds for the Snyder family." Following that, the document stated Liam's details. He was an entrepreneur from the older generation in Tirion. He was 78 years old that year. Yvette's mind tensed. At that moment, Yara spoke up again. "Mr. Lorimer has expressed that he doesn't mind that you were married before. "He'll help revive our family's reputation from the ashes, as long as you marry him. Come on, dearest. You wouldn't let me and Terrence down, right?" Yvette's face paled even more. "I can't agree to what you're asking of me." Yara had never imagined that Yvette would reject her so candidly. She blew up in a fit of rage at once. "What right do you have to refuse? I gave you life!" Hearing that, Yvette met Yara's gaze. "How about I return my life to you? Would that mean I no longer owe you?" "What did you say?" Yara shrilled. Yvette's pale lips moved as she said, "If I returned my life to you, would it mean you'd no longer be my mother? And I'll no longer be indebted to you for giving birth to me?" Yara sneered, not believing Yvette would dare do such a thing. "Okay, then. I won't force you to marry Mr. Lorimer if you give your life back to me. But the question is, do you have the guts to do it?" "Give me a month." Yvette seemed determined. In Yara's eyes, Yvette seemed like a crazed person. She warned, "You'd best not threaten me by only saying you'll end your life. We're not that close, so I don't care if you die. However, you must sign this document if you're too afraid to end your life." … Yvette had suppressed all her emotions to the brim and needed to vent somewhere. So, she went to a bar. She sat in a corner, drinking and watching the crowd happily dance in a daze. That was when a dashing man with striking eyes noticed Yvette, who was all alone. He approached and asked, "Yvette?" Yvette stared at the man but didn't recognize him. Still dazed, she asked, "Do you know how one can achieve happiness?" The man was confused. "What did you say?" Yvette continued drinking as she spoke. "The doctor says I'm ill and should try to be happier, but I can't make myself feel happy…" That sparked discomfort in the man, Claude Lander. He wondered if Yvette had forgotten about him. Also, he was confused by what she said—something about being ill and needing to be happier. "You shouldn't be in a place like this if you want to be happy. Why don't I drive you home?" Claude spoke in a gentle tone. A smile curved across Yvette's face as she looked at him. "You're a good person." Complex emotions stirred in Claude when he saw her bitter smile. He wondered what she had been through these past few years. Why did she seem so sorrowful? Meanwhile, Xavier was also at the bar. After settling the divorce papers, he had let himself loose every night. On top of that, he hadn't returned to Dewberry Estate in a long time. It was getting late. When the crowd was about to leave, Daphne noticed a familiar figure in a corner of the bar. She exclaimed, "Isn't that Yvvy?" Xavier glanced in the direction Daphne was staring in and saw a man merrily chatting with Yvette. His expression soured at once. He was disappointed in Yvette for getting drunk at a bar and chatting up another man. He felt like he had thought too highly of her before. "Should we go and check up on her, Xav?" asked Daphne. "No," was all Xavier said before speedily leaving. On the other hand, Yvette declined Claude's offer. "There's no need to trouble yourself. I can go home on my own." Claude was still worried about Yvette, so he ran after her when he noticed her leaving the bar. "Do you really not remember me?" Yvette gazed at him but couldn't recall who he was. "It's Chubbs. Have you forgotten?" Claude reminded her. Only then did Yvette remember her friend, Chubbs, whom she met when she had been living with Viola in the countryside. Back then, Claude had been chubbier and nowhere near Yvette's height. Yet, his six-foot-two-inch frame now towered over her. He had even grown to have handsome features. "I remember now! You've changed so much. I didn't even recognize you!" said Yvette. Meeting an old friend away from home was a pleasant thing. But only a slight smile curved on Yvette's face. That upset Claude. "Come on. I'll drive you home," Claude stated. When he dropped her off, he was shocked to learn she lived in a run-down hotel. Yvette shifted in embarrassment. "Sorry, it's not a glamorous place. Please don't tell Viola I'm living in such a place. I don't want her to worry." Claude nodded. Since it was getting late, it was unwise for him to stay longer. So, he left after telling Yvette he would visit her the next day. He didn't notice the matte black car lingering in a dark area beneath the hotel as he walked out. Now that Claude had left, Yvette felt dizzy and had an upset stomach from drinking too much. That was when someone knocked hard on the door. Yvette had just opened the door when Xavier grabbed her wrist. He exerted so much strength on her slender wrist that it felt close to snapping in half. "You've made me look at you in a new light, Yvette!" Xavier snarled while shutting and locking the door. He then forcefully led her to the couch. He sneered with words as sharp and lethal as a blade, "So, you've already settled on which family you'll marry into next, huh? I knew you wouldn't be so willing to let me go for no reason!" Yvette didn't know why he had come over, nor did she know how he had seen Claude. She was only briefly dazed. Once she snapped out of it, she shot a furious look at Xavier and didn't bother explaining herself to him. The rims of her eyes reddened. "You and I aren't that different from each other." The Snyder family had tricked Xavier into marrying Yvette. However, Xavier had treated her coldly for three years while remaining entangled with his first love. Neither Xavier nor Yvette was a better person than the other. Xavier had also drunk some wine, so he reeked of it. Eyes reddening, he pinched Yvette's chin and spoke with a dangerously low voice. "Who is he? When did you guys meet?" That was the first time Yvette had seen him behave like this. She suddenly chuckled. "Are you jealous?" Xavier's gaze grew tense as he scoffed. "You're unworthy of such a reaction." Yvette became choked up. That was when Xavier leaned in domineeringly and continued interrogating her. "Has he already touched you? Huh?" In her three years of marriage, Yvette had given up on her work and declined to meet her friends whenever they had occasionally invited her out. She had done so to obey the Lane family's rules. But now Xavier was suspicious of her. Relief washed over Yvette just then. She questioned him back, "What do you think?" That utterly angered Xavier, and his heated hands started travelling down her body. | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 841 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13092&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/457023493_8130919900276575_3500800934228782898_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lXTue0uJw58Q7kNvgHibj9q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsSdLUImkOMNeb1XevSEU_6&oh=00_AYBgK9kFLe5ATMPJ9k4_F4PI9X0q7zieJPzOJra8NWzdOg&oe=673C84DB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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😍Read the next chapters👉 | Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/ | 21 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8pPRTafPJRgQ7kNvgESRz4U&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsSdLUImkOMNeb1XevSEU_6&oh=00_AYBtf76SnSkpRcZnuwkPQgDCDy4oxIp5abg59QFIdNNFMQ&oe=673C69CC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13853&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/t39.35426-6/465016650_546682848318838_7095522676840014546_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=-3y0uABxsj0Q7kNvgFVDTua&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKRt83Lfn9J4iV9lEwK4bgi&oh=00_AYD8gT3iygogdtDI88zfBVsA62uFBc91lTZ4g-re-hV6Vg&oe=673C7C21 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-11-14 20:21 | active | 1815 | 0 | Read next chapter👉 | As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e | Hello reading | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c1-0824-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=798859118295947&rawadid=120216829072590091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466019418_785675593665345_8924080414771527919_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=m-0PP-r3CPYQ7kNvgHSU3_P&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AwEPhyudA2173HV9rk_1Upu&oh=00_AYAl1tRwwSN5yxLC3JfNhqTX1WuARsAwkPW8abOoxNQDEQ&oe=673C988B | REGULAR_PAGE | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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