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'{"alias":2625734}' |
Yes | 2024-12-09 21:03 | active | 1982 | 0 |
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Dan Clark | ***NEW LISTING*** 400 S SD Hwy 273, Kennebec, SD Hey Folks, here's a very nice home in Kennebec, SD that's just came on the market! This ranch style, one story home not only has been totally remodeled in 2019, but it sells with 9.55 +/- acres. It's a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom home that has 1,548 sq. ft. of living area and a 2 stall heated & cooled garage. This home has a propane furnace and central AC. All appliances stay with the home and it has city utilities. This very attractive home really needs to be seen in person to appreciate the quality. List Price: $285,000 This property will be shown to qualified buyers by appointment only, to schedule your private tour call Dan Clark Auction & Realty, at (605) 842-3300 or Owner/Broker Dan Clark, call or text (605) 842-6075 To view all of the written details, photos, and disclosures for this property, go to www.danclarkrealty.com Dan Clark Auction & Realty LLC 525 E 2nd St., Winner, SD 57580 Office (605) 842-3300 Mobile (605) 842-6075 Email: dan@danclarkauctions.com | CALL_NOW | Dan Clark | https://www.facebook.com/dan.clark.9674/ | 367 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Call now | 0 | IMAGE | Dan is the Land Broker & CAI Auctioneer of Dan Clark Auction & Realty LLC. | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469848103_1369072384465973_9043412041511064841_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Wjfndue1g04Q7kNvgGnm4GV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AeKGEMdyKTwhwGMh7gWsOqW&oh=00_AYAHG1Mu4JQgsytzVlTSNSRdxAiFdWvZDR_cThm-cRDcsQ&oe=675D6B24 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Dan Clark | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "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." Sophieâs 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/ | 323 | 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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464175395_1248916862910202_8685270570837841720_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=opBgBblJgxYQ7kNvgH4H0qh&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AlmUtHPLNj2yPRSCH0AkxGV&oh=00_AYDMfbzSGlw5j2wnyVwvaSeX2wu0u5Tw5J3r7iRqIbswFQ&oe=675D5EB8 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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'{"alias":2625948}' |
No | 2024-12-09 21:03 | active | 1982 | 0 |
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Rodriguez Jr. Live w. Sam Allen & Volstar at Walter Where?House | This Saturday, itâs all about Rodriguez Jr. at Walter Where?House. đ” Known for his innovative fusion of emotion and technology, Rodriguez Jr. has headlined iconic stages like Fabric London, Movement Detroit, and Zamna Tulum. Now, heâs bringing his signature blend of melodic house and techno back to Phoenix! đ | BUY_TICKETS | https://www.seetickets.us/event/rodriguez-jr-live- | Walter Where?House | https://www.facebook.com/walterwherehouse/ | 9,733 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Buy Tickets | 0 | seetickets.us | DCO | test | https://www.seetickets.us/event/rodriguez-jr-live-at-walter-wherehouse/628358 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469673172_551245297766947_9030812001539070177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=O1alEOfvoA0Q7kNvgEe2vlB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AT1PA-7-RswWZ2-9Bk4DuHN&oh=00_AYDqi32jjX8CX8ggQnsxUpPR06mI-NhMwb4tFmoVOlpTRQ&oe=675D69B1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Walter Where?House | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | After a tragic accident left Emily Yates without her memories, she fell in love with her savior, Justin Yates, unaware that he was hiding the truth and using her as a stand-in for his first love. For three long years, Emily poured everything into the relationship, hoping he would love her back. But on the day Justin proposed, he held his "one true love" in his arms and left Emily stranded on a foreign street, still expecting her to remain his secret mistress. * âDidnât I tell you to go home? Why are you still here?â Justinâs voice dripped with disdain and impatience, as if his irritation had taken on a life of its own. Emily stood her ground, unafraid. She needed answers. âYou proposed to me in Merika State just 16 hours ago, but now youâre holding another woman and completely ignoring me. And youâre not even coming home? Staying out all night?â âStop being unreasonable. Leave. Now,â he ordered, his voice cold and commanding, his gaze on her as though she were an unruly employee who had crossed the line. Emily wasnât leaving without answers. âYou think Iâm being unreasonable? Iâm your fiancĂ©e. You left me on the street in a foreign country to carry another woman away without a second thought. Did you ever consider how I felt? âIâll go, but only if you leave the hospital with me. There are doctors and nurses here to care for that woman. Right now, youâre coming home with me.â Desperate, Emily reached out to grab Justinâs arm. But before she could make contact, her arm was blocked by Justinâs personal bodyguard, William Carter. Emily was stunned, unable to believe what she was seeing. It felt as though her heart was being torn in two. âWhat do you mean by this?â Emilyâs voice trembled, mirroring the unease in her heart. Justin didnât respond. He stared at her with cold, detached eyes, as if she were a stranger and not the fiancĂ©e he had just proposed to. Finally, he spoke, his words sharp and emotionless. âDonât be childish.â Childish? Once, he had said he loved how she depended on him, how she claimed him for herself. And now he was calling her childish? âIf you want to stay here with her, then what about our marriage? You proposed to me just today!â | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15056&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 323 | 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=15056&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/t39.35426-6/464744275_1717283745733017_8817052015286460716_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=jjf8Lizt5voQ7kNvgGl4mEC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Awy3FldhJSJqSWMhykW5XgS&oh=00_AYCMArJa3M9rfKxPUv3h_OTBhDmg0aOM2oXutvTUYs4P5A&oe=675D7E90 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Generate More Calls with Ivy AI [free trial] | Tired of chasing leads? Meet Ivy AI, built by salespeople for salespeople. Proven to book appointments with 64 real users over 14 months. âą Intelligent lead follow-up âą Gets smarter as you use it No dumb bots or hefty setup fees! Try free for 60 days and get at least 20 inbound leads daily. https://atomicenrollment.com/ivy-ai-trial/ | LEARN_MORE | https://atomicenrollment.com/ivy-ai-trial/ | Atomic Enrollment | https://www.facebook.com/61551986795293/ | 7 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | atomicenrollment.com | DCO | try free for 8 weeks | https://atomicenrollment.com/ivy-ai-trial/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469661388_1918388815351862_3051120342552144083_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=HIvNqxZfsyoQ7kNvgFdnwZS&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AA_hWw6Xp9d6vsENSykcyU7&oh=00_AYCry5NnqbWP2MoizFLxcnBOMiVLRr42bbXPnAsQZgboHA&oe=675D93C6 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Atomic Enrollment | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-12-09 21:03 | active | 1982 | 0 |
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Save Up To $100/wk on In-Person Summer Camps | Calling all tech-savvy kids' parents! Lavner Camps are excited to offer the world's #1 Tech Camp, located at the Waldron Mercy Academy. With expert instructors and cutting-edge technology, your child will learn valuable skills in coding, robotics, and game design. Don't miss out on this amazing opportunity! | LEARN_MORE | https://www.lavnercampsandprograms.com/location/me | Lavner Education | https://www.facebook.com/LavnerCamps/ | 1,225 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | lavnercampsandprograms.com | DCO | Save BIG on Multi-Week Discounts. Plus, Refer Friends & Earn $50 Per New Student. They'll Save $50 Too! | https://www.lavnercampsandprograms.com/location/merion-station-pa-summer-camp-waldron-mercy-academy/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469641181_1401101694197156_383513009665655979_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qXT-LUDRXpsQ7kNvgEeW4OB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AhZbDVFUjeD4RdMggpP8pl6&oh=00_AYBByABk0L7Q9MBQlCMmQgQqIrYdg1DQQn4UR_d0aLcejQ&oe=675D75DD | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lavner Education | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | âWhere the f-k is she?â I hear the Beta scream. Oh no, my ex-mate Beta Kyle is looking for me and trying to torture me again. I groan and get to my feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with me. The moment Beta Kyle sees me, he strides towards me and his hand slices against my cheek. It hurts more than usual but still, I don't make sound. Years of experience has taught me to do so. âAlpha Trey and I are expecting company and you still have not cleaned the office like you were askedd.â Beta Kyle spits at me. I nod my head and my hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If I could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make my day. âWe are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!â I donât answer and keep my eyes low. I know it's a trick, to try and get me to say something so that he can give himself a reason to punish me. Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didnât mess around and he had the largest pack. âHe is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!â Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on my shoulders, digging his nails into my thinning skin and turns me around, kicking me in the back as he shoves me towards the office. âUseless f-king Wolf.â He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against the door, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. I hated this house. I thought I could finally escape when I turned eighteen, but four years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of drink. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that donât quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. âIs this the way you greet all Alphaâs?â His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. âIâm sorry.â I whisper, getting to my feet. âIâŠI thought I was alone.â I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. âCome forward.â He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I do as Iâm told, allowing him to see me properly and I am met with narrowed crimson eyes. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. âYou smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?â I nod, though I couldnât tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. âI would prefer it if you spoke to me.â He growls, âIâm not in the mood to play games.â âYes.â I whisper. I couldnât help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? I wasnât sure how much more my body could take. âHow is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.â âIâŠ..â I hated the question. âSpit it out, I havenât got all day!â He takes a swig from his drink. I knew why I couldnât scent him. I knew why I hadnât been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something I ever wanted or liked to do. They never let me tell my side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. âYou should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?â His deep voice sends a shiver through me. Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. âMy Wolf abilities were bound,â I mutter. He leans forward, I could feel him staring at me, âWhy would someone do that?â If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. âIt was a punishment.â I whisper. It wasnât far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. Thereâs a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldnât tell. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me âNeah, what the heck are you doing in my office?â He turns to the crimson eyed man. âI am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.â Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the burn. âI wouldnât do that if I were you.â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscle too. âNeah,â My name rolls off of his tongue, âwas kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested.â What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. âGo and get Beta Kyle.â Alpha Trey seethes. âTell him that our guest is here.â I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. âBeta Kyle,â I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. âAlpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.â He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. âYouâre lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.â Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesnât speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesnât last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. âNeah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.â I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. âNeah is your sister, correct?â Alpha Dane questions my brother. âShe is.â Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. âWhy do you treat her like shit?â Straight to the point, my brother wouldnât like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didnât know what to do. I couldnât move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. âNeah was responsible for our parents' death.â Alpha Trey spits. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. âResponsible how?â Alpha Daneâs voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. âShe served them Wolfsbane.â Donât make a sound. Donât make a sound. I knew Alpha Dane was studying me. They all did, no one could ever quite believe how someone could do something so disgusting as poisoning their own parents. I stood there, with my head hanging low, wishing for the ground to open up and suck me in. There are movements around me. He was standing directly in front of me. With a rough finger he tilts my face up towards his, forcing me to look at him. Slowly, his hand latches onto my throat but he doesnât squeeze. âYou poisoned your parents?â âI was six.â I splutter. âI just made them lemonade.â My voice comes out all squeaky as I try to defend myself. I could barely remember my parents, but I could remember all the guilt I had been made to feel since that day. His crimson eyes flash to my brothers. âHardly seems fair to blame a six year old.â âA six year old should know the difference between plants.â Alpha Trey snaps âSounds to me like she was set up.â Alpha Dane shrugs his shoulders, letting go of my throat. âYou werenât there, Alpha Dane.â My brother muttered through gritted teeth as his eyes narrowed to slits. âI didnât ask you here to talk about my slave!â Alpha Dane grabs his leather jacket from the chair. Unlike other Alphaâs he seemed to dress more casually. A simple black tee and jeans covered his huge frame. And unlike other Alphaâs, his arms are bare of tattoos, not a single bit of ink poked out anywhere. âYouâre right and now I have a few things to mull over.â âI thought we agreed.â My brother exclaims. âNothing has been signed. Now I will show myself out.â The moment he is out of the office, both my brother and Beta Kyle round on me. âWhat the f-k did you say to him?â My brother demands, slamming a hand into my stomach. âN..nothing. Well, he just asked me why I smelled funny.â âDid you tell him?â Beta Kyle demands. He was practically spitting in my face. I hated him. I hated him so much that I had vowed to one day get my revenge and rip his stomach out through his mouth. âWELL?â My brother yells when I donât immediately respond and smacks me across the side of the head. My head involuntarily moves up and down. âBut I didnât say it was you.â I tried to sound strong and confident but it just comes out as a whisper. My brother's hand locks into my black hair as he yanks my head back, sending a shooting pain through my skull. âIf you have ruined this, you wonât see daylight again.â He drags me by my hair from the office and down the hallway towards the basement door. âPleaseâŠ.â I beg. âHe was an AlphaâŠI⊠I had to answer him.â My cheeks burn with my tears as he flings the door open. On the other side of the door is Alpha Dane. He is leaning against the wall with his arms folded, staring out at us. My brother's hand falls from my hair, relieving the pressure on the back of my skull. âAlpha Dane, I thought you had left.â Alpha Trey murmurs angrily. âI said I would show myself out. I thought I had found the door, but instead I find a basement, riddled in your sister's strange scent. Is this how you treat your family?â âAs I said,â my brother holds his ground, âShe is responsible for the death of my parents, so yes, this is what she deserves.â âYou should keep your nose out of other packs' business!â Beta Kyle adds. Alpha Dane laughs. âIf I agree to this deal, everything about your business becomes my business. So tell me, what would your punishment be for her? No food, locked away for a week, beatings?â âWe donâtâŠ.â âReally?â He cocks a brow, âYou really expect me to believe that you would have just let her sleep? I have already stopped you from hitting her once. " My brother and Beta Kyle fell silent. I peer through slits to see his crimson eyes on me. There was no reason for him to defend me and yet he was. I was a nobody, no one special. Just who everyone called a traitor. Only instead of being given a death sentence, my brother had decided to make me spend my life suffering. âI have a proposition for you, Alpha Trey.â Alpha Dane is smirking at my brother. âWe have already agreed on terms.â âWell, Iâm adding one. And if you donât agree, you will not get my help. Instead, you will become my enemy. And we both know, you donât want that.â âI take it that your new terms have something to do with her?â Alpha Trey mutters through clenched teeth. âYou would be correct. Let me take her away to my pack and then you, Trey will have a deal.â Me? Why would he want me? As my brother and his Beta discuss me, Alpha Dane is still studying me. His look made me nervous. What could someone like him possibly want with me? âDeal.â Alpha Trey sticks out his hand for Alpha Dane to shake. He doesnât take it, instead his crimson eyes shift from me to my brother. âI will have paperwork drawn up and will return tomorrow.â He reaches a hand out and cups my face, âEnsure you have everything packed.â He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and strides to the opposite end of the hallway and straight to the front door. He knew exactly where the front door was, so what was he up to? He pauses at the door. âIf I find out any one of you has laid a hand on her. The contract will be the last thing you need to worry about.â He struts out, slamming the door behind him. Seeing Alpha Dane walking out of the door, my brother immediately grabs me by the collar. "You think you're going to lead a good life if you follow Alpha Dane out of here? Don't be naive!" He continues in a vicious voice. "He's the cruellest man in the world, he has killed nine of his mates, I'm waiting to see what will happen to you!" | LEARN_MORE | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783& | New world publications | https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/ | 3,766 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | wwwedb.com | DCO | https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464300486_441900775589412_3913007690285088857_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9el7syYSp8kQ7kNvgHbz73s&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AlmUtHPLNj2yPRSCH0AkxGV&oh=00_AYD3lTmlrS_KHLcAFf5Z_h_BedSNQf7_cUZgF5DX4_SNbA&oe=675D8167 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | New world publications | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Vuelve conmigo, amor mĂo | Durante tres años, hizo todo lo posible por complacer a su marido, pero Ă©l la torturĂł con locura, creyendo que en el pasado ella lo habĂa seducido deliberadamente y lo habĂa separado del amor verdadero. Ya no queriendo sacrificarse sola, se fue desesperada, mientras el hombre se volvĂa loco. ===== Joelle Miller examinĂł minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atenciĂłn cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenĂa una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. HabĂa descubierto que, en los dĂas importantes, Nochebuena, San ValentĂn e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se habĂa ausentado de todos esos dĂas durante los Ășltimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron mĂĄs que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "ÂżLo ven? Ăl siempre guarda para mĂ la parte mĂĄs jugosa de una sandĂa". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "ÂĄY miren esta sorpresa! RecogiĂł de la iglesia un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para mĂ". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la Ășnica cuenta a la que Joelle seguĂa. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abriĂł. En la habitaciĂłn poco iluminada apareciĂł Adrian. Gotas de agua caĂan de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminaciĂłn, sus atractivos rasgos permanecĂan intactos. Joelle cerrĂł instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. HacĂa mucho tiempo desde la Ășltima vez que lo vio. Esa noche Ă©l no estaba ahĂ por decisiĂłn propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como querĂa un bisnieto con desesperaciĂłn, lo obligĂł a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabĂan que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirĂĄ si quedas e**arazada o no", declarĂł Adrian con una voz resonante. ÂżQuĂ© querĂa decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarrĂł del tobillo y la atrajo hacia Ă©l. Joelle palideciĂł ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensĂł de miedo. "ÂĄAdrian! Basta, no quiero...". EmpezĂł a luchar frenĂ©ticamente. Era una completa humillaciĂłn verse obligada a vivir en esa situaciĂłn con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, asĂ que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguĂĄntalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneciĂł a medida que la desesperaciĂłn se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difĂcil es mucho mĂĄs interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentĂł con rencor. DespuĂ©s de ducharse, se marchĂł sin mirar atrĂĄs, como si no quisiera quedarse mĂĄs tiempo ahĂ. Joelle no entendĂa quĂ© papel tenĂa en su vida. ÂżSolo era un juguete para su placer? ÂżO una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gĂ©lido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropĂł mĂĄs con su manta. No solo temblaba de frĂo, sino que sentĂa su corazĂłn desgarrado, ahora no conocĂa en absoluto al hombre que habĂa adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrĂĄs, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebiĂł demasiado. Cuando se despertĂł, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podĂa revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomĂł las riendas y organizĂł su matrimonio. Desde entonces, Ă©l estaba convencido de que Joelle lo habĂa hecho a propĂłsito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por mĂĄs que creyera que lo habĂa d**gado. DespuĂ©s de todo, habĂan crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendĂa todo. Para Ă©l, ella no era mĂĄs que la nefasta mujer que habĂa saboteado su relaciĂłn con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que Ă©l se veĂa en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostrarĂa esa misma ternura. No pudo contener mĂĄs las lĂĄgrimas y sucumbiĂł a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos tĂ©rminos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantĂł inusualmente temprano. DespuĂ©s de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajĂł las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada domĂ©stica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rĂĄpidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocĂa sus preferencias dietĂ©ticas. Joelle se tomĂł su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, Âżpor quĂ© anoche no convenciĂł a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentĂł Leah con simpatĂa. HabĂa sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que habĂa visto cĂłmo los dos se convertĂan de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostrĂł incĂłmoda, pero lo ocultĂł con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intentĂ©, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, Ă©l tenĂa el corazĂłn en otra parte. MĂĄs concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudĂł y agregĂł con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller estĂĄ muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañĂa tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrĂĄs, le habĂan reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, asĂ que entendĂa los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatĂa hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lĂĄgrimas debido a la tensiĂłn emocional. SĂ, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenĂa tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia RedenciĂłn en busca de un amuleto de bendiciĂłn para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompiĂł el silencio. Cuando Leah saliĂł del comedor, Joelle agarrĂł el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesĂł con voz ronca. CapĂtulo 2 En declive Joelle habĂa tomado una decisiĂłn: querĂa el divorcio. No tenĂa sentido seguir alargĂĄndolo. Tras un silencio atĂłnito, Katherine soltĂł una estridente carcajada. "ÂżTe quedarĂĄs con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ÂĄOh, por Dios! ÂĄJoelle, te convertirĂĄs en una multimillonaria!". "No, no serĂĄ asĂ". Joelle habĂa firmado un acuerdo cuando se casĂł con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibirĂa nada. "Entonces, Âżpor quĂ© te estĂĄs divorciando? ÂĄTienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordĂł la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, asĂ como la humillaciĂłn posterior. HabĂa sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por Ă©l la ayudarĂa a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabĂa que habĂa sido una completa tonta. ÂżEl sufrimiento hacĂa que Adrian la amara mĂĄs? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le harĂa sufrir. Joelle se rio de sĂ misma y cambiĂł de tema: "Por cierto, Âżrecuerdas el favor que te pedĂ?". "SĂ, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violĂn, aunque debo decir que serĂĄ un desperdicio de tu talento". "EstĂĄ bien", respondiĂł Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No serĂĄ un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "ÂżCĂłmo que no serĂĄ un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonioâŠ". Katherine se quedĂł en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. DespuĂ©s de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridĂculo. HacĂa tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibĂan tocar en pĂșblico. El primer dĂa de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerĂĄ en todo lo que necesites. Tu Ășnico trabajo es tener bebĂ©s y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminĂł su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subiĂł las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violĂn abandonado. HabĂa sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco despuĂ©s de recibirlo, este sufriĂł un derrame cerebral y cayĂł en coma. Su hermano mayor terminĂł asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, asĂ que la dejĂł perseguir su sueño de tocar el violĂn. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle moviĂł el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrĂĄs, un accidente le habĂa lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no habĂa vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentĂa en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confiĂł en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltĂł una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchĂł la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "ÂĄSeñor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavĂa se preocupaba por Joelle. QuizĂĄs si ella le decĂa algo amable, su relaciĂłn podrĂa mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venĂa a casa durante el dĂa. Apenas habĂa dejado el violĂn cuando se abriĂł la puerta. AhĂ estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle habĂa aprendido a tocar el violĂn cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la habĂa elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razĂłn, habĂa dejado de tocar. HacĂa un momento, la habĂa escuchado desde afuera y le pareciĂł una interpretaciĂłn mediocre. ÂżCĂłmo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo mirĂł y bajĂł la cabeza para volver a guardar el violĂn en su estuche. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae por aquĂ?", murmurĂł. "ÂżNecesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondiĂł Ă©l frĂamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el dĂa. De no ser por esa obligaciĂłn, Adrian no habrĂa regresado. Irene se enfadarĂa si no iban juntos. Joelle sonriĂł con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplĂa. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podĂa encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tĂș tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondiĂł. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezĂł a hervir dentro de Ă©l. Sin decir nada mĂĄs, se dirigiĂł al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque Ă©l no solĂa estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenĂa la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah tambiĂ©n podĂa hacer. Su Ășnica ventaja, tal vez, era ser mĂĄs joven y mĂĄs guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. TenĂa el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesĂł el corazĂłn. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declarĂł con una voz tan suave como la brisa. HabĂa agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintiĂł extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la mirĂł con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson estĂĄ en declive. Sin mi apoyo, Âżvas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caĂda de la familia Watson, Joelle pasĂł de ser amada a quedar en ridĂculo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podĂan librarse. Incluso sus momentos Ăntimos con Adrian la hacĂan sentir degradada. Joelle se mordiĂł el labio y se enderezĂł. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mĂo". Solo querĂa que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habĂan dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "ÂżY de dĂłnde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querĂas ser independiente, no deberĂas haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontrĂł entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. SĂ, habĂa utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, Âżlo que era suyo no era tambiĂ©n de Ă©l? AdemĂĄs, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les habĂa dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendĂa a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre habĂa despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con Ă©l era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejarĂa de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ÂżEstaba sugiriendo que ella debĂa salir del matrimonio con las manos vacĂas? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legĂtimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mĂo. Pero no te preocupes, no pedirĂ© mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedĂł paralizado y su mirada se agudizĂł. Sus labios formaron una fina lĂnea mientras apretaba la mandĂbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se habĂa preparado mentalmente, no podĂa soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponĂa mĂĄs ansiosa. De repente, sonĂł el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacĂł de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "ÂĄAdrian!". CapĂtulo 3 Siempre mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto La frustraciĂłn de Adrian crepitaba como estĂĄtica. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "ÂĄNo se trata de eso!", replicĂł Joelle. La habĂa malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazĂłn latiendo con urgencia, corriĂł tras Ă©l. "ÂĄAdrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejĂł de subir las escaleras y girĂł la cabeza. El celular en su mano habĂa dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, Âżno se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntĂł burlonamente con una mirada gĂ©lida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, Âżpor quĂ© no se lo dices tĂș misma a la abuela? ÂĄNo quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerrĂł de golpe detrĂĄs de Ă©l, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisiĂłn. Joelle se apoyĂł contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizĂł al suelo. Una risa amarga emergiĂł de sus labios. Irene habĂa organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se habĂa visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabĂa muy bien. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, lo mĂĄs efectivo serĂa hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estĂșpida parte de ella se habĂa aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo habĂa mencionado primero a Ă©l, porque lo veĂa como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidĂł un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca habĂa querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia habĂa sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella habĂa intentado pasarla por alto. Sus Ășltimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad querĂa el divorcio, deberĂa enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparĂł para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenĂa un vĂnculo muy especial con ella. En parte, habĂa aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. QuerĂa cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba mĂĄs. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecĂa consumirla. Era consciente de que Ă©l no la amaba. ÂĄNunca lo hizo y nunca lo harĂa! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonĂł su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "ÂżShawn? ÂżQuĂ© ocurre?". "ÂĄSeñora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca habĂa escuchado. Se le helĂł la s**gre y agarrĂł el celular con mĂĄs fuerza mientras permanecĂa en la escalera. "ÂżDĂłnde estĂĄ mi hermano? ÂżQuĂ© le pasĂł?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistiĂł a una reuniĂłn de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volverĂa a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistiĂł en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedĂł congelada y la furia recorriĂł sus venas. "ÂżErick no sabĂa que eso podrĂa matarlo?". "ÂĄErick es un s**vergĂŒenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chĂłferes de la familia Miller. ÂĄSeñora Miller, tiene que venir rĂĄpido! El señor Watson estĂĄ siendo operado y los mĂ©dicos han emitido dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂĄNo pude aguantar mĂĄs, asĂ que la llamĂ©!". El asistente parecĂa estar al borde de las lĂĄgrimas. Joelle sabĂa que Ă©l no se habrĂa puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situaciĂłn fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la habĂa protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrĂas que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debĂa estar en peligro. Joelle sintiĂł como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formĂł en su garganta. Al bajar del Ășltimo escalĂłn, tropezĂł y se cayĂł con fuerza, torciĂ©ndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolviĂł a la realidad y las lĂĄgrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "ÂĄOh, no, señora Miller, tenga mĂĄs cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corriĂł a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarrĂł el brazo de Leah con la visiĂłn borrosa a causa de las lĂĄgrimas. IntentĂł hablar, pero las palabras le salĂan entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ÂĄTengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintiĂł su urgencia y respondiĂł sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ÂĄLe pedirĂ© al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos despuĂ©s, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volviĂł hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazĂłn de la criada se ablandĂł. Incluso con el rostro pĂĄlido y surcado de lĂĄgrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ÂĄQuĂ© muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sĂ© quĂ© hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegĂł al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirĂłfano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomĂł. Joelle se acercĂł y lo encontrĂł arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. MĂĄs tarde habrĂa tiempo para eso. Cuando la condiciĂłn de Shawn fue mĂĄs estable, Joelle llevĂł al asistente a un lado. "CuĂ©ntamelo todo. ÂżCĂłmo ocurriĂł esto?". El asistente vacilĂł, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenĂł especĂficamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestiĂłn de vida o muerte. ÂżPiensas que todavĂa es una opciĂłn no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondiĂł el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea mĂĄs llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn habĂa luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrĂan desvanecido hacĂa mucho tiempo. Su deseo mĂĄs profundo era que su hermana viviera cĂłmodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecĂa por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguirĂa siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabĂa que no podĂa cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspirĂł profundamente y preguntĂł: "ÂżNo mencionaron mi relaciĂłn con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas mĂĄs difĂciles a usted". Joelle soltĂł una risa amarga. JamĂĄs habĂa estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podĂa soportarse a sĂ misma. Solo hacĂa una hora que le habĂa pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligiĂł personalmente. ÂĄMientras sea la señora Miller, mantendrĂ© la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrĂĄs de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenĂa una sonrisa frĂa en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frĂĄgil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a Ă©l. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se habĂa dado cuenta de que ella realmente no querĂa el divorcio. La mujer que habĂa parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su tĂtulo como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no habĂa sido mĂĄs que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacĂas. Era tan astuta que lo habĂa d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tĂĄcticas tan engañosas, ÂżcĂłmo podrĂa irse tan fĂĄcilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle serĂa una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciĂĄndose de Ă©l. CapĂtulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta HacĂa mucho que Joelle se habĂa vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. ObservĂł sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordĂł los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ÂĄQuĂ© pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeĂł. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, asĂ que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozĂł una leve sonrisa. "ÂżQuĂ© te trae al hospital?", preguntĂł mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicaciĂłn de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "TambiĂ©n vine a pedirte perdĂłn, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "ÂżDescuidado?", replicĂł ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mĂo, Âży crees que una disculpa bastarĂĄ para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeciĂł y agarrĂł la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondiĂł Ă©l con una voz tan gĂ©lida como el invierno. "No fue a propĂłsito". Luego, se volviĂł hacia Rebecca y agregĂł suavemente: "Vamos, Âżno viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendiĂł todo. HabĂa esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, habĂa venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, serĂa por obligaciĂłn, nada mĂĄs. Pero sabĂa que no debĂa esperar que Ă©l la defendiera. "ÂĄRebecca, no olvidarĂ© lo que hizo Erick!", espetĂł. Rebecca doblĂł las piernas y se desplomĂł sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapĂł justo a tiempo y la abrazĂł con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenĂa malas intenciones. ÂĄTambiĂ©n estĂĄ en el hospital!". "ÂżYa estĂĄ muerto? ÂĄSi no, tendrĂĄ que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solĂa arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la Ășnica familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperaciĂłn, y su madre habĂa fallecido en un accidente de trĂĄfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habĂan sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentĂĄndose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos mĂĄs oscuros, Shawn llevĂł sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasiĂłn por el violĂn. Ahora la idea de perderlo tambiĂ©n a Ă©l era insoportable. Su Ășnico deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ÂżcĂłmo puedes decir eso?", sollozĂł Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijĂł su frĂa mirada en Joelle. "ÂżQuĂ© deseas?". "Shawn recibiĂł dos avisos de condiciĂłn crĂtica. ÂżQuĂ© hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeĂł, su frĂĄgil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "ÂĄJoelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ÂĄPor favor, ten compasiĂłn!". Se desmayĂł antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantĂł en sus brazos y le dio una Ășltima mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejĂł y la dejĂł clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareciĂł una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, habĂa sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtiĂł en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que habĂa sido. Ella solĂa ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sĂłlo para complacer a su marido. ÂĄQuĂ© patĂ©tico! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ÂżQuĂ© sucederĂĄ en adelante? Los capĂtulos disponibles son limitados aquĂ, haga click el botĂłn abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo mĂĄs contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederĂĄ a este libro) &4& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa | Heat stories | https://www.facebook.com/61563777993401/ | 339 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.manobook.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120213758251450186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464986815_804314428400469_6397373048179048364_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=eyvEQ0usnS4Q7kNvgF6mAz8&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Atra13kawrEhaZYQRTnoe8M&oh=00_AYDnjgj6tVYgeMrUL6gzyCa77_C5OSgdJFtTpazYpL9vbg&oe=675D5E0F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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No | 2024-12-09 21:03 | active | 1982 | 0 | Read next chapterđ | 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-K | https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/ | 35 | 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-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047092710250 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469298287_1130459688422609_4542170671190817934_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=y1JiLhtJxbUQ7kNvgGt6wFB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Abd9AMm0HUPZb4bhUIvy6np&oh=00_AYD1ehZXnq5TsyxqxPXl5xG0U5mq2QhrC1K0K73hxM7lkw&oe=675D733F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Hello reading-K | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Painting Class GIFT CARDS | Painting Class GIFT CARDS - $123.00 Need a fun and unique gift for someone who has everything? Hard to shop for? Unsure whatâs appropriate for someone you donât know deeply but kinda wanna get them something thoughtful but not creepy? A cute couple you know? Yourself!! Stocking stuffers! You can purchase gift cards in any amount you wish to gift and the individual (who is 21 years or older only) can use it anytime within the next 365 days at a Painting Nâ Pour Decisions class! This isnât your normal painting with alcohol class! Mainly because for starters, the instructor isnât normal. đ But also it is located on premises that have a FULL BAR , not just beer n wine! And a restaurant on site!! Plus treats and gift bags! Prize drawings! Next booked classes are Saturdays December 21, 28, 31st from 5-8pm. January 18th from 5-8pm and potentially February 14th from 6-9pm. More dates to come! Cost per individual is $37.17 with dumb ol tax. And portions of profits go towards benefiting our USA Veterans! You can purchase any denomination amount you wish or cover a full class or twâŠ.enty. đ Message me for purchase information or if you have any questions about all of this awesomeness! Facebook Marketplace | CONTACT_US | https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/143791668049 | Maggie Senne | https://www.facebook.com/Maggie-Senne-372162543368266/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Contact us | 0 | IMAGE | https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1437916680498717/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469809607_552388194343011_5418249585241382858_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=4rQpdTqJWLUQ7kNvgEasA7V&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Atra13kawrEhaZYQRTnoe8M&oh=00_AYA3i_LO21FLk2ouaCPq5X1hB-Isrr4qrXQVJ7_tdBkyAg&oe=675D5BFF | REGULAR_PAGE | 1 | 1 | 0 | Maggie Senne | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts⊠Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. ⊠That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexterâ" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. ⊠Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naĂŻve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcaseâthis was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! StopâŠ" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meantâthe lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last centuryârustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you againâGrandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintilyâa signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good womanâdon't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman⊠You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush thingsâshe had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you⊠Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" ⊠Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. ⊠Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a jobâshe could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been sparedâeven her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford familyâ" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. ⊠Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlierâ"You're sick!"âseemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscularâeven his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furiousâshe had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15824&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 323 | 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=15824&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/t39.35426-6/468079191_576706848177391_5263571557326726272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=0WcMCNCdfywQ7kNvgGuYBUB&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A-gIF6CybdwOSqsPdIw3JPt&oh=00_AYDOTHQDN4QK17vpKBT879IbcV7eNANHWCCY-q6F6Inrmg&oe=675D6243 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đRead the next chaptersđ | 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_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=qCG_B-FbSE0Q7kNvgG7DAxa&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqL0aAYJ8atyHoyjIDp_VWP&oh=00_AYCEo46Al6MEkw_O7E605dYfN3s3WxZLDopvnERhTypV4Q&oe=675D5F4C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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đAttention! Do not read in publicïŒđ | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before herâher husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she wonât be a concubine. Sheâll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that sheâs 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 donât really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrettâs victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estateâs affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, sheâs different from any woman you know. As a general, sheâs above household squabbles and wouldnât 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-" "Thatâs them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." âOh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?â Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren familyâs life respectable, and this was her reward. âEnough,â Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. âIâve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion wonât change anything.â As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. âMy lady, my lord has really crossed the line!â Lulu, Carissaâs maid, said, wiping her tears. âDonât call him that!â Carissa gave her a stern look. âWe never consummated the marriage. Heâs not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.â âWhy the dowry list?â Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. âSilly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.â Lulu gasped. âLeave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?â 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 â 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 familyâs former glory seemed impossibleâat 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 familyâs fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. âLulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.â ... 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 Carissaâs arrival to the king three times. âYour Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,â he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. âI canât summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.â âThe guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. Sheâs been standing there for over an hour without moving.â Salvador felt a pang of guilt. âBarrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didnât want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.â âYour Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,â 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. âAlright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, Iâll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,â said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. âAs always, you're wise, Your Majesty!â ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 323 | 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/t39.35426-6/463430846_3918983931754783_3857163581980999957_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BNHLX-AjZ9oQ7kNvgG3lTzT&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6NmLnNe3rwn79sbYOF9Rky&oh=00_AYAztOgxWrjf6i5YUD6qlAg1I-SpLc7K7EJYH48DQYi4lA&oe=675D6761 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read next chapterđ | She and her stepsister fell in love with the same man, but when he knelt down to beg her to save her stepsister, she felt desperate. She demanded to become his wife to save her stepsister. Two years later, when she got the divorce agreement as scheduled, she realized that she had ended up losing everything. ===== Emma Cooper boarded her flight home after three grueling months of filming. Today was also the final day of Emma's contractual marriage. The four-hour journey felt endless, but at last, the plane touched down. Once she retrieved her suitcase, she made her way toward the exit, expecting a company car. But as soon as the doors slid open, she spotted someone familiar--Edwin Reid, the Jenner family's long-time driver. He stood by a sleek black Rolls-Royce, his posture rigid and respectful, waiting. Dragging her suitcase, she approached. Edwin immediately took over, wordlessly opening the car door for her. Inside, a man sat in silence. His presence was cold yet commanding, encased in a perfectly tailored black suit. His sharply chiseled face devoid of any expression, he didn't look up--not even a glance her way. It was Ricky Jenner, her husband of two years. His unexpected appearance caught her off guard, though she quickly remembered why he was here. Their arrangement was ending today. Of course, he would show up. Emma slid into the car, maintaining a careful distance, the space between them as silent and tense as ever. For two years, Ricky had made it clear--he didn't want her close. Tonight was the first time they had been seated so near, and the closeness felt foreign. The faint scent of his cologne lingered between them, familiar but distant, like everything about him. Edwin quietly loaded her suitcase into the trunk and slid back behind the wheel. As the car pulled away from the airport, the silence inside grew suffocating. Ricky's expression remained as cold and distant as ever, his presence casting a shadow over the space. Emma's heart raced, each breath coming in shallow, uneasy waves. Twenty minutes later, the Rolls-Royce rolled to a stop in front of the Jenner family's grand estate. Before Emma could collect her thoughts, the butler rushed out, swiftly opening the door. Ricky stepped out first, his long strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance in her direction. "Let's go to the study," he muttered, his tone clipped, not even bothering to slow his pace. Emma's nerves had been on edge the entire ride. She knew what was coming. The moment she entered the study, she saw Ricky pull out a stack of papers from the desk drawer, tossing them in front of her. "Let's get a divorce," he said. Emma's heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she remained composed. She had loved Ricky for ten years, and wearing the title of Mrs. Jenner had never brought her closer to his heart. His body, his soul--none of him had ever belonged to her. "Nicola is old enough to marry now, isn't she?" Emma said, her voice trembling despite her best effort to keep it steady. Ricky's brow twitched slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his sharp features. He didn't bother responding to her comment. Instead, he immediately extended the pen toward her, a silent demand. Emma forced a smile, but it felt like a crack in her mask. Without her usual makeup, her lips looked pale, and her face seemed drained of life. The exhaustion was undeniable. "Just sign it," Ricky said, emotionless and firm. She accepted the pen and, without sparing a glance at the contents of the contract, flipped to the last page and signed her name. The act felt final, yet hollow. As she placed the pen down, Emma glanced up at Ricky. His eyes, still striking, stared back at her with an icy detachment that sent a shiver through her. It was as if he was looking at a stranger, not his wife. "It's getting late. I'll move out tomorrow, if that's alright?" Emma asked, her voice fragile, her smile tense as she searched Ricky's face for even a shred of warmth. But Ricky's response came swift and sharp, dashing any hope. "Edwin will take you to a hotel." Was he really sending her away this very moment? Not even allowing her the courtesy of one last night under this roof? Her forced smile faltered, then vanished altogether. The silence between them stretched, heavy. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment before she turned away, her heart hardening with each step as she left the room. In her bedroom, Emma took the suitcase she hadn't even had the chance to unpack. When she dragged her suitcase downstairs, the maids rushed to help, but she waved them off, her smile weary. "Thank you, but I can handle it." They exchanged helpless glances, standing quietly in a line as they watched her approach the door. In the two years she had spent in this house, Emma had grown to care for the people here. Everyone, except Ricky, had shown her warmth. A pang of sorrow hit her, but after enduring two years of emotional isolation, she no longer had the strength to fight. It was over. Time to move on, and finally, let go. Despite the searing pain ripping through her chest, Emma remained dry-eyed. She had learned how to hide her emotions well. As she slid into the backseat of the car, she forced herself to appear composed. Edwin drove her through the city streets and dropped her off at a five-star hotel. Without a word, he left. Inside, Emma checked in and powered on her phone, which had been off for hours. There was a missed call from her father, Colby Cooper. She inhaled deeply, bracing herself as she dialed his number. Colby picked up almost immediately. "Emma, Nicola's condition has worsened," he said, his voice rough, weighed down with exhaustion and worry. Emma's heart skipped a beat. "What? When did this happen?" "About a week ago." "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked. "You were busy filming. I didn't want to burden you," Colby explained. Emma paused, the silence between them heavy. Her mind flashed back to two years ago, when she had donated her bone marrow to save Nicola Cooper. The realization hit her--she knew exactly why her father was calling. "What do you need me to do?" she asked, her voice steady but resigned. "No, there's nothing you need to do. Ricky's already taken care of everything--he's brought in top doctors, and the hospital found a bone marrow match for Nicola from the registry. You just need to visit when you can," Colby said. Emma stayed silent, her chest tightening. Colby, sensing her hesitation, gave her Nicola's room number and urged her to come soon, mentioning how much Nicola missed her. A sharp pain gripped her heart. She managed a weak "okay" before quickly ending the call, unable to hear more. That night felt endless. She tossed and turned on the unfamiliar hotel bed, her mind racing. By 2 a.m., she gave in, ordering a bottle of red w*ne. She drank most of it before finally drifting off into a fitful sleep. The next morning, close to noon, Emma was jolted awake by her phone ringing. Her agent's voice was quick and urgent on the other end. She pitched the idea of her joining a popular rural reality show--one that guaranteed fame for all who participated. "I'm not interested. I need a break," she replied, her voice groggy with exhaustion. Her agent snapped, clearly frustrated, "A break? Do you think you can take a break whenever you feel like it? Look, you've been in this industry for three years. You've turned down intimate scenes, refused reality shows and avoided any publicity stunts with male celebrities. The company has bent over backward to accommodate you! But what now?" Her voice grew sharper. "Three years in, and you still lack ambition. Keep this up, and your career will be done." "Then let it be done." "Emma, you..." Her agent's voice was cut off as Emma ended the call without hesitation. The frustration simmered inside her, but she didn't dwell on it. She headed straight to the bathroom, ignoring the incessant buzzing of her phone. After a long shower, feeling slightly more clear-headed, she decided to reach out to Jenifer Howard, a close friend she hadn't seen for a while. Emma asked if she could stay at Jenifer's place for a few days. Jenifer was thrilled and agreed, coming over to pick her up almost immediately. Once settled at Jenifer's, Emma unpacked her things and shared a quiet meal with her friend. That afternoon, she made her way to Ecatin General Hospital. Standing outside Nicola's room, Emma watched through the glass as the caregiver tried feeding her sister. Nicola, frail and pale, managed only a few bites before she began to retch. Emma's chest tightened with a sorrow she couldn't fully articulate. Nicola was her half-sister, five years younger and barely twenty now. They had been inseparable as children; Nicola had always looked up to her, following her everywhere. But everything changed when they both fell in love with Ricky. Two years ago, when Nicola was first diagnosed with leukemia, Ricky had been beside himself with worry. That was when the truth hit Emma--Ricky didn't love her. His heart belonged to Nicola. Chapter 2 You Don't Deserve To Be Around Nicola Back then, Emma's bl*od test results had come back clear--there were no complications, no signs of rejection. She could save Nicola. In truth, Emma wouldn't have hesitated to donate her bone marrow to a stranger, let alone her own sister. But before she could even voice her decision, Ricky had already thought of her as cold and indifferent, assuming she wouldn't step up to save Nicola. He was so desperate that he even knelt before her, pleading for her help--a sight that shattered Emma's heart. Never in her life had she seen Ricky humble himself for anyone like that. She had known Ricky since they were kids. From elementary school to high school, they had been inseparable. Childhood sweethearts, as some might have called them. Ricky used to get into fights with other boys just to defend her, and he would stay up late into the night to help her prepare for exams. She had believed, naively, that after all those years of being by his side, she would eventually earn his love. But she was wrong. Feelings, she had come to understand, were never won by logic or time. Emma was never as good at acting cute or knowing exactly how to please Ricky as Nicola. While he cared for both of them, the way he doted on Nicola was always more tender, more genuine. He must have loved her deeply. The thought pierced Emma's heart, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. What hurt most wasn't just Ricky's love for Nicola but the fact that he had assumed she was heartless enough to let her sister die. That judgment, so harsh and wrong, had infuriated her. In a moment of blind anger, she had demanded that Ricky marry her. She wanted to be his wife. Even though the marriage would only last two year, she had believed--foolishly--that it would be enough time for Ricky to fall in love with her. But reality, sharp and unforgiving, had torn that hope apart. She had lost. Miserably. "You still have the nerve to show your face here?" A biting voice yanked Emma out of her thoughts. Emma quickly wiped away her tears and turned to see Verena Cooper standing behind her, her expression instantly turning cold. Verena, her stepmother, was forty but looked a decade younger. With her perfectly styled hair and chic designer clothes, she exuded elegance and control. When Emma was still mourning the loss of her mother, Verena, who had been the family's servant, got pregnant. The father of the baby was Colby. "Spare me the crocodile tears!" Verena sneered, brushing past Emma as she entered the hospital room. Emma swallowed her frustration and followed behind, forcing herself to remain composed. When Nicola saw her, a faint light flickered in her otherwise tired eyes. "Emma," she said softly, a trace of warmth in her voice. Emma smiled, walking over to gently take Nicola's hand. "I heard you've been missing me." Nicola nodded, her expression gentle. "I haven't seen you for three months. I really missed you." Emma's heart twisted painfully. Nicola, with her innocence and kindness, made everything so much more difficult. How could her own sister, the one she'd loved and cared for, be the one standing between her and the man she longed for? When Nicola had fallen ill, Emma had crossed a line she could never uncross--using that tragedy to secure her place as Mrs. Jenner. She had expected Nicola to resent her for it, maybe even despise her. In her mind, their meetings would be cold, filled with resentment and distance. But Nicola still cared about her as though nothing had changed. And that was the hardest part of all. Every time Emma looked at her sister, the guilt became unbearable. "I'm taking a break right now, so I've got plenty of time to spend with you," Emma said, her eyes still red from emotion, but she forced a smile. Nicola's face lit up. "That's amazing! I want you to visit me every day until I'm discharged, okay?" "Of course, I'll be here every day," Emma replied warmly. From the side, Verena rolled her eyes, glaring at Emma with open contempt. She held her tongue for Nicola's sake, but every time she looked at Emma, her anger flared. She couldn't forget how Nicola had become a shell of herself when Ricky married Emma. Fighting her bitterness, Verena coaxed Nicola to sleep. Once Nicola was asleep, she turned to Emma, her voice cold. "Ricky's coming soon to see Nicola. If you don't want an uncomfortable scene, you'd better go." Emma stood silently, taking in her words. After one last glance at Nicola, now peacefully asleep, she turned and headed for the door. Just as she reached the doorway, Verena's voice cut through the air once more. "Don't bother coming back. After everything you've done to her, you don't deserve to be around Nicola." Emma didn't say a word. She walked out, her steps heavy with the weight of a truth she'd long grown accustomed to carrying. Emma quietly closed the door behind her and collapsed onto a bench in the corridor. She buried her face in her hands as tears flowed uncontrollably, her body shaking with silent sobs. Jenifer had been waiting outside in the car for far too long. Concerned, she decided to head into the hospital to check on Emma. When she entered the corridor and saw Emma hunched over on the bench, looking utterly defeated, Jenifer was about to rush over when she noticed Ricky stepping out of the elevator. He paused when he spotted Emma, but after a brief pause, he walked toward her. Emma had been following Ricky everywhere since childhood; she knew the sound of his footsteps anywhere. Hearing that familiar rhythm, she quickly wiped her face and tried to compose herself, though the effort felt futile. "Are you here to see Nicola?" she asked, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying, with streaks of smudged makeup on her face. She looked fragile, a shadow of her usual self. Ricky's response was indifferent. "You've already visited her?" "Yes," Emma whispered. For a moment, something in her appearance must have stirred a hint of sympathy, because Ricky, in an unusual display of kindness, added softly, "Don't worry. Nicola will be undergoing a bone marrow transplant soon. She'll get better soon enough." "I know." With just those words, Ricky simply turned to push open the door to Nicola's room. But before he could step inside, Emma couldn't help but call after him, "Please, take good care of her." If she couldn't have him, then maybe it was time to let go, to give him back to Nicola--the one he truly loved. Ricky paused, his hand on the door. Without turning to face her, he replied in a voice laced with restrained anger, "I don't need you to remind me. I'll take care of her." His words were sharp, each syllable weighted with frustration. Emma flinched. She had already signed the divorce papers, freeing him from their hollow marriage, giving him the chance to return to Nicola. This was what he had always wanted, wasn't it? So why did he still seem so furious with her? Was he really that eager to be rid of her? Did he hate her that much? Ricky disappeared into the room, but Emma remained frozen on the bench, her eyes locked on the closed door. She felt hollow, lost in the emptiness of it all. Jenifer, who had been watching from a distance, couldn't bear it any longer. She rushed over, gently pulling Emma to her feet and dragging her away from the hospital ward. In the days that followed, Emma continued visiting the hospital, but she no longer went inside Nicola's room. She only stood by the door, looking through the glass to catch a glimpse of her sister. Sometimes she would see Ricky taking Nicola for walks outside, their closeness painfully clear. From afar, she would watch, a quiet spectator to the life she had no part in. Ricky's coldness toward her was always in stark contrast to his gentle care for Nicola, a contrast that left Emma with a deep, aching wound that never seemed to heal. A month later, Nicola successfully underwent her bone marrow transplant. There were no signs of rejection or complications, and her recovery was progressing smoothly. For the first time in a long while, Emma felt a sense of relief. In the past month, Ricky spent nearly all his time at the hospital, constantly by Nicola's side. He seemed to have forgotten about going to the courthouse with her to finalize the divorce. Emma had watched enough of his affection toward Nicola. She was ready to close this chapter, ready to walk away and rebuild her life. That day, she made up her mind to call him. The phone rang for what felt like an eternity before Ricky finally picked up. "What is it?" he asked, his tone as cold and detached as ever. Emma didn't hesitate. "When are we going to finalize the divorce?" There was a heavy pause on the other end of the line. When Ricky finally spoke again, his voice was distant, but his words caught her off guard. "I haven't signed the papers yet." Her heart skipped a beat. After all this time, he still hadn't signed the divorce papers? Emma froze for a moment, her mind racing. Why hadn't Ricky signed the papers yet? Could he have changed his mind? Was there a possibility he no longer wanted the divorce? The thought was fleeting and absurd, and she quickly dismissed it. Ricky had always wanted to be free of her. Now that Nicola was recovering and old enough to marry, there was no reason for him to hold on. This delay couldn't possibly mean anything different. "Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow at nine," she said, her tone sharp, leaving no room for discussion before hanging up the phone. Meanwhile, in Ricky's office. For two years, Ricky had been waiting for this moment--the end of their marriage. The divorce papers had been drawn up months ago, prepared by his assistant, ready for the final signatures that would sever their ties for good. He had thought the moment he signed would bring relief, a clean break. But after Emma had actually signed them, something gnawed at him. A strange unease he couldn't shake. Ricky wasn't sure anymore, not even of himself. He wasn't something to be traded or handed over between two women. His decisions were his own--no one else had the right to make them for him. He calmly finished his work, then pulled the divorce papers from his desk drawer and tore them to pieces. "Divorce?" Ricky's lips twisted into a mocking smile. "It's not that simple. The game has just begun." ...... ==== Two years ago, Ricky found himself coerced into marrying Emma to protect the woman he cherished. From Ricky's perspective, Emma was despicable, resorting to underhanded schemes to ensure their marriage. He maintained a distant and cold attitude toward her, reserving his warmth for another. Yet, Emma remained wholeheartedly dedicated to Ricky for more than ten years. As she grew weary and considered relinquishing her efforts, Ricky was seized by a sudden fear. What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-e | Hello reading | https://www.facebook.com/61552535188096/ | 50,037 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | IMAGE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/62445322-fb_contact-enj103_2-1105-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214072000130250 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469651823_559331816946357_5610371613772425433_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Nafts95GlRMQ7kNvgFykOxM&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Abd9AMm0HUPZb4bhUIvy6np&oh=00_AYAaPYo5uwxv434lauqP58demFvWV5ncO9jwKjPeQMnowQ&oe=675D6221 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Hello reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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OPEN HOUSE! 1423 Cass Street - Presented by Dallaire Realty âšđđOpen this THURSDAY 12/12 from 4pm - 6pm đ„łđ $229,900 - Southeast Green Bay Located near Optimist Park, dining, entertainment, and just 1 block from the East River Trail, this 2BR/1BA 1.5 story Gable home on a 240' extra-deep lot features a modernized open living-space floor play, kitchen w/ appliances & peninsula snack-counter & living room w/ ample natural light. Bedroom #2 & full bath complete the 1st floor. Upper level boasts a cavernous primary bedroom w/ walk-in closet. LL has offers a nearly finished rec-rm w/ drywall installed & drop-ceiling w/ recessed lights. Laundry room includes washer+dryer! Just steps from the back door is a 4-stall garage w/ plenty of room for all your hobbies & vehicles w/ adjacent matching shed w/ overhead door! Park-like back yard w/ fire-pit continues more than 125' beyond garage! For more info, private message us, call Dallaire Realty at: 920-569-0827 ex 2, or visit: https://www.dallairerealty.com/property-search/detail/178/50301549/1423-cass-st-green-bay-wi-54301/ | Dallaire Realty | https://www.facebook.com/greenbayhomes/ | 14,521 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | MULTI_IMAGES | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469899775_960726832598459_2504878820253147920_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=secQ-ck6P14Q7kNvgFVwlQP&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AYDS0rijBBbd-rejt3VN8MR&oh=00_AYBLQQTFH0hZ7nm5ssrDwCeAtyhVYoSILknIeekE200_lw&oe=675D727A | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Dallaire Realty | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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He drunkenly hugged her âCall me husband again ......â | đNyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? OrâŠ' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didnât know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so letâs not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." ⊠It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clockâ3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nylaâs phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwinedâtheir heavy breathing filling the roomâpierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. ⊠By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine hereâ" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clarkâs journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clarkâs name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nylaâs red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once youâre calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clarkâs betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nylaâs reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." ⊠After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damonâs hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Letâ Mmph! Let me goâŠ" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nylaâs senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didnât feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me goâŠ" Nylaâs voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldnât believe itâthe man who almost violated her was Clarkâs uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle DamonâŠ" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistakeâit wasnât Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husbandâs uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephewâs wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. ⊠When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didnât you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didnât love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, Iâm sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Donât touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, Iâve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But Iâve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why canât you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, youâre the only one I love⊠It was just an accident with herâŠ" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So youâre saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, Iâll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clarkâs expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, Iâve made up my mind. Iâm divorcing you. You donât deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. ⊠Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damonâs hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didnât notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Donât touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didnât you always want a child? Letâs have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it wonât be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didnât care. "It doesnât matter how many times I say it. Iâm disgusted by you. Iâd rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nylaâs struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. ⊠For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. ⊠The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clarkâs expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clarkâs arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true selfâselfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next monthâ" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Letâs go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasnât on his side todayâthey met at the door. He didnât notice Nylaâs stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nylaâs gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I donât like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I donât like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. Weâll deal with this later." "If you donât want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didnât want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the companyâs shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, youâre here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you donât bring a girlfriend next time, donât bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damonâs gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasnât the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe Iâll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "Youâre too picky! Iâve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, donât ruin it." "Then youâll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, âYouâre going to drive me crazy!â Damon glanced at Clark. âClark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why donât you encourage him to have kids?â Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldnât listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. âNyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?â Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clarkâs aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, youâll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldnât dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldnât happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldnât pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, weâll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight yearsâthe best years of her life, from 18 to 26âloving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 865 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&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/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BfijEjm96d0Q7kNvgEX90L2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5ls_n74gPLUHG1Gow4DnZC&oh=00_AYDG0r8fL2jCnTOOmi8iq9I-zpyUvTYE8WyQqTyK60PvYQ&oe=675D5F3D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Le retour de l'Ă©pouse indĂ©sirable | Lors de l'anniversaire du mariage, elle est allĂ©e au rendez-vous en grande tenue mais a Ă©tĂ© droguĂ©e par la maĂźtresse de son mari et a couchĂ© avec un inconnu, sans savoir qu'il s'agissait du demi-frĂšre et rival d'affaires de son mari ! ===== Dans le cinĂ©ma privĂ© opulent et faiblement Ă©clairĂ©, la vente aux enchĂšres de bijoux la plus exclusive Ă©tait diffusĂ©e en direct. « Un million, une fois, deux fois... » La voix posĂ©e du commissaire-priseur rĂ©sonnait dans la salle, homme resserrait sa prise autour de la taille d'Alicia Bennett... Mais l'intensitĂ© entre eux ne faisait que croĂźtre Ă mesure que le temps passait, leurs corps s'entremĂȘlant dans une bataille de p*ssion et de contrĂŽle. Le marteau du commissaire-priseur a retenti. « AdjugĂ© pour dix millions ! Applaudissons M. Joshua Yates ! » Ce nom a surpris Alicia comme un Ă©clair. Son corps s'est instantanĂ©ment figĂ©, ce que l'homme n'a pas pu s'empĂȘcher de remarquer, se sont dirigĂ©s paresseusement vers l'Ă©cran. La camĂ©ra a zoomĂ© sur le visage de Joshua Yates, chaque dĂ©tail de ses traits familiers s'affichant avec une clartĂ© parfaite. « Joshua Yates, le deuxiĂšme fils de la famille Yates... Une connaissance peut-ĂȘtre ? », a-t-il lancĂ©, les coins de sa bouche se tordant en un sourire sournois. Alicia a froncĂ© les sourcils. La derniĂšre chose qu'elle voulait, c'Ă©tait d'en parler. Elle n'a pas rĂ©pondu. L'homme, voyant la situation, rigola lĂ©gĂšrement. Au contraire, il a resserrĂ© sa prise sur sa taille, ses mouvements devenant plus incessants, son rythme chaotique et sauvage... Ă la fin, Alicia a profitĂ© du temps que l'homme passait sous la douche pour s'Ă©chapper discrĂštement. Lorsque Caden Ward a enfin quittĂ© la salle de bains, aucun signe de la femme n'a Ă©tĂ© vu. L'amusement se lisait dans ses yeux et un sourire en coin se dessinait sur ses lĂšvres. Quelques instants plus tard, son assistant, Hank Ford, a fait irruption dans la piĂšce, visiblement sur les nerfs. « Euh, toutes mes excuses, M. Ward. J'ai baissĂ© ma garde. Donnez-moi un peu de temps, et je la ramĂšne immĂ©diatement. » Ils venaient de revenir de l'Ă©tranger en prenant toutes les prĂ©cautions nĂ©cessaires. Et pourtant, une femme avait rĂ©ussi Ă passer Ă travers les mailles de leur sĂ©curitĂ©. Caden les traits calmes, presque indiffĂ©rents. « Ce n'est pas la peine. J'Ă©tais... consentant. » Les yeux d'Hank se sont Ă©carquillĂ©s sous le choc. Depuis qu'il connaissait Caden, l'homme n'avait jamais eu de relations avec une femme, mĂȘme pour une simple contact physique. Des rumeurs circulaient mĂȘme sur le fait que Caden souffrait d'une maladie secrĂšte. Pourtant, ces rumeurs semblaient s'Ă©vaporer face Ă la tournure inattendue que prenaient les Ă©vĂ©nements. Avant qu'Hank ne puisse comprendre, la voix grave de Caden l'a ramenĂ© Ă la rĂ©alitĂ©. « EnquĂȘte sur la vie privĂ©e de Joshua. Je veux tous ses dossiers d'ici une demi-heure. » Ce soir, Alicia Ă©tait entrĂ©e dans sa chambre en titubant, fiĂ©vreuse et dĂ©sespĂ©rĂ©e. De toute Ă©vidence, elle avait Ă©tĂ© d**guĂ©e. C'Ă©tait Ă ce moment-lĂ que la rĂ©vĂ©lation s'est faite : Alicia Ă©tait toujours pur. AprĂšs deux ans de mariage avec Joshua... elle n'avait pourtant pas Ă©tĂ© touchĂ©e ? Et ses lĂšvres se sont retroussĂ©es en un sourire satisfait. Les choses inattendues avaient toujours le don de l'intriguer. Mais en y rĂ©flĂ©chissant, il Ă©tait clair qu'Alicia n'avait aucune idĂ©e de la personne avec qui elle avait passĂ© la nuit, Ă cause des effets de la d**gue. Lorsqu'Alicia est rentrĂ©e chez elle, les premiĂšres lueurs de l'aube filtraient Ă travers les fenĂȘtres. Elle a alors rĂ©alisĂ© combien de temps elle Ă©tait restĂ©e dehors. Mais avant qu'elle ne puisse aller plus loin, son tĂ©lĂ©phone a sonnĂ©. C'Ă©tait sa meilleure amie, Monica Flynn, qui appelait. « Alicia ! », a presque criĂ© Monica Ă l'autre bout de la ligne, sa voix Ă©tait aiguĂ« et pleine d'inquiĂ©tude. « Comment vas-tu ? » Alicia a pris une profonde inspiration et, d'un geste dĂ©sinvolte, a laissĂ© tomber ses chaussures. « Je vais mieux », a-t-elle murmurĂ©. La colĂšre de Monica dĂ©bordait, ses mots Ă©taient tranchants et implacables. « Joshua est une vĂ©ritable merde ! Il est plus que rĂ©pugnant ! S'il ne veut pas rester mariĂ©, il n'a qu'Ă demander le divorce en toute honnĂȘtetĂ© ! Quel genre d'homme malade voudrait comploter contre sa propre femme ? » La douleur aiguĂ« de la trahison a traversĂ© la poitrine d'Alicia. Hier, c'Ă©tait leur deuxiĂšme anniversaire de mariage. Joshua lui avait envoyĂ© un texto, proposant de le fĂȘter. Osant espĂ©rer qu'il avait changĂ©, elle s'Ă©tait habillĂ©e comme il se devait, mais elle avait Ă©tĂ© déçue et avait bu un verre de d**gue qui l'avait entraĂźnĂ©e dans une nuit de confusion et de chaos. Joshua Ă©tait-il vraiment le cerveau de tout cela ? Ravalant l'amertume qui tentait de remonter Ă la surface, Alicia s'est forcĂ©e Ă monter les escaliers, ses mouvements Ă©tant lents et fatiguĂ©s. « C'est bon, Monica. Je vais m'en occuper. » Monica, toujours protectrice, n'Ă©tait pas convaincue. « Tu vas t'en occuper ? Comment ça ? Tu n'as qu'un mot Ă dire et je serai lĂ en un clin d'Ćil ! » Alicia n'a pas pu empĂȘcher le petit sourire fatiguĂ© qui s'est dessinĂ© sur ses lĂšvres, raccrocher le tĂ©lĂ©phone. Mais son cĆur soit toujours aussi lourd. Avant qu'elle ne puisse rĂ©pondre, la porte de sa chambre s'est ouverte en grinçant. Elle a levĂ© le regard, et presque instantanĂ©ment, son estomac a lĂąchĂ©. Joshua Ă©tait lĂ , tout juste sorti de la douche, une serviette enroulĂ©e autour de sa taille. Ses cheveux humides collaient Ă son front tandis qu'il la fixait. Chapitre 2 Divorçons alors Alicia est sortie de sa torpeur dĂšs qu'elle a croisĂ© le regard froid de Joshua, son soi-disant mari. Son expression est restĂ©e la mĂȘme, toujours aussi froide et indiffĂ©rente, comme s'il regardait une inconnue. La seule chose qui n'Ă©tait pas Ă sa place Ă©tait la marque d'amour sur ses lĂšvres. Elle Ă©tait envahie par une vague de dĂ©goĂ»t et n'arrivait pas Ă s'empĂȘcher d'avoir des nausĂ©es. Elle le repoussa et s'apprĂȘtait Ă entrer. Joshua a froncĂ© les sourcils, sa main s'Ă©lançant pour attraper son poignet. « Alicia, c'est quoi cette attitude ? » Il avait l'air assez mĂ©content d'elle cette fois, ce qui Ă©tait rare, vu le peu de cas qu'il faisait de son retour Ă la maison. En temps normal, Alicia l'aurait accueilli Ă bras ouverts, une lueur de joie illuminant ses traits fatiguĂ©s, mais aujourd'hui, elle semblait vidĂ©e, presque creuse. Elle n'a pas rĂ©sistĂ© Ă son emprise, rĂ©pondant Ă son regard avec un calme qui l'a troublĂ©. « N'ai-je pas toujours Ă©tĂ© comme ça ? ObĂ©issante, raisonnable, veillant Ă ce que la maison soit en ordre, Ă ce que tu sois Ă l'aise, prĂȘt Ă te donner Ă fond au travail. » Un petit sourire amer s'est dessinĂ© sur ses lĂšvres. « N'est-ce pas ce que tu aimes le plus chez moi ? Cela te facilite les choses, n'est-ce pas ? Cela te libĂšre du temps pour ton rendez-vous... Avec ton am**te. » Les yeux de Joshua se sont assombris Ă l'accusation voilĂ©e. La dĂ©nĂ©gation Ă©tait sur ses lĂšvres, mais il ne s'en est pas souciĂ©. Pourquoi le ferait-il ? Il a lĂąchĂ© sa main et a dit d'un ton bourru : « En fait, c'est pour ça que je suis lĂ . Il faut qu'on parle. » Alicia s'est vigoureusement frottĂ© le poignet, comme si elle essayait d'effacer son contact. « Alors, tu as l'intention de la rendre enfin publique ? » L'expression de Joshua s'est instantanĂ©ment dĂ©formĂ©e, sa façade calme s'est fissurĂ©e. « Qu'est-ce que tu en sais ? Tu m'as fait suivre par un dĂ©tective privĂ© ou quelque chose comme ça ? » Alicia a laissĂ© Ă©chapper un rire doux et ironique. « Est-ce nĂ©cessaire ? Hier soir, tu n'as pas lĂ©sinĂ© sur les moyens pour la rendre heureuse. MĂȘme un aveugle pourrait dire que tu es fou d'elle. » Il l'a dĂ©visagĂ©e, dĂ©stabilisĂ© par son ton glacial. C'Ă©tait toujours Alicia qui parlait, mais il y avait quelque chose de diffĂ©rent chez elle... Pour une raison ou une autre, il se sentait inexplicablement blessĂ©, comme une Ă©pine qui lui piquait le cĆur. Cela venait peut-ĂȘtre de la façon dont elle le regardait maintenant, ses yeux, autrefois chauds et remplis d'amour pour lui, Ă©taient maintenant complĂštement vides. Il n'y avait ni colĂšre, ni douleur, juste... rien. C'Ă©tait un contraste saisissant avec la femme qui avait l'habitude de le regarder comme s'il Ă©tait tout son univers. Pour des raisons qu'il ignorait, la voir ainsi rĂ©veillait quelque chose en lui, une insatisfaction inconnue. AgacĂ© par sa propre rĂ©action, Joshua a dĂ©cidĂ© de rĂ©pliquer, d'une voix plus dure : « Elle est enceinte. C'est une grossesse dĂ©licate, alors je lui ai offert un petit cadeau pour lui remonter le moral. » Les poings d'Alicia se sont serrĂ©s avant qu'elle ne puisse les arrĂȘter. Enceinte ? Ainsi, les nuits oĂč elle avait attendu qu'il rentrait Ă la maison, il Ă©tait avec une autre femme, travaillant assidĂ»ment pour fonder une nouvelle famille ? Voyant le visage pĂąle d'Alicia, Joshua a ressenti une pointe de satisfaction. « Ce n'est pas que je n'ai pas envie de c**cher avec toi », a-t-il dit, la voix dĂ©goulinante de condescendance. « Tu es vraiment ennuyeuse, sans charme et trop sĂ©rieuse. Aucun homme ne voudrait de ça. » Les paroles cruelles de Joshua ont transpercĂ© Alicia , mais elle a rĂ©ussi Ă rester calme en apparence. Ce n'Ă©tait pas qu'elle Ă©vitait l'intimitĂ©, c'Ă©tait juste qu'elle n'Ă©tait pas celle qui l'initiait. Ătait-ce pour cela qu'elle Ă©tait si indĂ©sirable ? Ătait-ce un pĂ©chĂ© de ne pas ĂȘtre assez s**uisante ? Prenant une respiration lente et rĂ©guliĂšre, Alicia s'est efforcĂ©e de rester calme. « TrĂšs bien », a-t-elle rĂ©pondu calmement. « Divorçons alors. Tu pourras lui donner le titre qu'elle veut. » Le mot « divorce » a fait tressaillir involontairement la paupiĂšre de Joshua. Il s'en est moquĂ© et ses yeux se sont rĂ©trĂ©cis de suspicion. « C'est encore un de tes jeux ? » Convaincu qu'il avait raison, sa voix est devenue plus froide, plus mordante. « Alicia, pendant deux ans, tu as fait toutes les gamineries possibles et imaginables pour attirer mon attention. Tu n'es pas encore fatiguĂ©e ? Moi, si ! » Il a fait une pause, laissant son dĂ©dain s'installer. « Tu prĂ©tends m'aimer tellement. Pourrais-tu vraiment t'Ă©loigner de moi ? » Alicia n'a pas pu empĂȘcher le rire amer qui lui a Ă©chappĂ©. L'aimer ? Comprenait-il seulement ce que cela signifiait ? Lorsque l'entreprise de Joshua s'Ă©tait effondrĂ©e, ne lui laissant que des dettes et des rĂȘves brisĂ©s, c'est Alicia qui avait vidĂ© ses Ă©conomies pour le tirer d'affaire. Par gratitude ou peut-ĂȘtre par obligation, il l'avait Ă©pousĂ©e. Pendant deux longues annĂ©es, elle avait Ă©tĂ© une Ă©pouse dĂ©vouĂ©e, le soutenant pendant qu'il se frayait un chemin vers le succĂšs. Et qu'est-ce qu'Alicia avait obtenu en retour ? Elle avait Ă©tĂ© mise de cĂŽtĂ© comme une relique inutile, tandis qu'une autre femme portait son enfant. Son amour, sa loyautĂ©, avaient Ă©tĂ© rĂ©duits en poussiĂšre sous ses pieds. Elle ne voulait pas rester Ă ses cĂŽtĂ©s ne serait-ce qu'un jour de plus. D'une voix ferme, Alicia a dit : « RĂ©dige la convention de divorce. J'accepterai tous les termes que tu voudras. » Et sur ce, elle s'est retournĂ©e et a disparu par la porte, laissant Joshua seul dans le couloir. Pendant un moment, il l'a regardĂ©e avec colĂšre, puis un sourire froid et moqueur s'est dessinĂ© sur ses lĂšvres. TrĂšs bien, elle pouvait jouer les martyrs. Il doutait qu'elle puisse continuer longtemps. Sortant en trombe de la maison, Joshua est allĂ© directement Ă l'appartement oĂč l'attendait sa ma**resse, Lilliana Green. « Eh bien, c'Ă©tait rapide », a-t-elle plaisantĂ© en apprenant que Joshua allait divorcer, en haussant un sourcil. « Il semblerait qu'elle n'ait pas Ă©tĂ© aussi difficile Ă gĂ©rer que tu l'as prĂ©tendu. » Joshua l'a attirĂ©e dans ses bras, « Elle est rusĂ©e », a-t-il marmonnĂ©, une pointe de suspicion s'insinuant dans sa voix. « Je ne sais pas si elle accepte le divorce ou si elle se joue de moi. » Lilliana ses bras s'enroulant paresseusement autour de son cou, « DĂ©tends-toi, Joshua », a-t-elle ronronnĂ©. « MĂȘme si elle change d'avis, il est trop tard. » Les sourcils de Joshua se sont froncĂ©s. « Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire ? » Chapitre 3 LĂącher prise Les yeux de Lilliana ont brillĂ© d'une intention obscure, ses lĂšvres se sont courbĂ©es en un lĂ©ger sourire. Elle n'Ă©tait pas assez stupide pour dĂ©voiler ses intentions maintenant, alors elle s'en est dĂ©barrassĂ©e avec une excuse facile Ă trouver. « Pendant vos deux annĂ©es de mariage, elle a vĂ©cu tranquillement dans l'ombre, comme une simple femme au foyer, dĂ©connectĂ©e de ton monde. Quand tu t'affirmes, oserait-elle dire un mot ? » Joshua a plissĂ© ses lĂšvres en une ligne dure. Au cours des deux derniĂšres annĂ©es, Alicia avait en effet tout fait pour lui, lui apportant soutien et rĂ©confort. Elle l'avait aimĂ© fĂ©rocement, mais au bout du compte, quelle valeur avait l'amour ? Contre toute attente, il s'Ă©tait frayĂ© un chemin jusqu'au sommet, et il avait enfin atteint le pouvoir qu'il dĂ©sirait. Mais ce succĂšs n'avait pas Ă©tĂ© facile, et ce n'Ă©tait pas l'amour qui avait assurĂ© sa position, mais les alliances avec les puissants. Le prestige de la fille de la famille Green, ce titre Ă lui seul, avait bien plus de valeur que l'amour dĂ©vouĂ© d'Alicia. Alors que ces pensĂ©es tourmentaient son esprit, Lilliana a ronronnĂ©, sa voix Ă©tant comme du velours : « Joshua, fĂ©licitations d'avoir Ă©chappĂ© Ă la routine. On fĂȘte ça ? » L'espace d'un instant, Joshua l'a regardĂ©e, mais le visage indiffĂ©rent d'Alicia a soudain dĂ©filĂ© devant ses yeux. Depuis son dĂ©part, Alicia ne l'avait pas appelĂ© une seule fois pour savoir oĂč il Ă©tait. Avant, s'il Ă©tait fĂąchĂ© avec elle, elle l'aurait appelĂ© en panique. Une irritation aiguĂ« et inexplicable l'a submergĂ©. Sans rĂ©flĂ©chir, il a repoussĂ© Lilliana d'une voix bourrue. « Cela ne fait que quelques semaines que tu es enceinte. Fais attention. » Lilliana, toujours aussi vive, a senti qu'il Ă©tait distrait. « Joshua, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas ? », a-t-elle demandĂ© avec douceur. « Tu n'as pas envie de divorcer ? » La rĂ©ponse de Joshua a Ă©tĂ© immĂ©diate. « Bien sĂ»r que je veux divorcer. » Ses yeux se sont rĂ©trĂ©cis alors qu'elle l'Ă©tudiait. « Alors pourquoi n'as-tu pas l'air trĂšs heureux ? » Joshua a trouvĂ© une excuse rapide, sa voix Ă©tant stable mais distante. « L'Ă©tat de santĂ© de mon pĂšre s'est aggravĂ©. Il ne lui reste plus beaucoup de temps, et Caden est revenu la nuit derniĂšre. Il est probablement ici pour revendiquer son hĂ©ritage. Je dois trouver comment m'occuper de lui. » Lilliana a clignĂ© des yeux, momentanĂ©ment dĂ©concertĂ©e. « Caden ? Ton frĂšre du premier mariage de ton pĂšre ? Il ne porte mĂȘme plus le nom de Yates. Quel droit a-t-il de se battre contre toi pour cet hĂ©ritage ? » L'expression de Joshua est devenue plus sombre. C'Ă©tait vrai, mais en fin de compte, il Ă©tait toujours le fils d'une briseuse de mĂ©nage. Toutes ces annĂ©es d'efforts acharnĂ©s n'avaient pas seulement servi Ă se tailler un nom dans la famille Yates, mais aussi Ă pousser Caden dans l'ombre, lĂ oĂč il devait ĂȘtre. D'une maniĂšre ou d'une autre, Joshua Ă©tait bien dĂ©cidĂ© Ă gagner. Pendant ce temps, Alicia sortait de son sommeil, le poids de la fatigue pesant encore sur ses membres. La nuit Ă©tait dĂ©jĂ tombĂ©e, mais elle se sentait encore plus Ă©puisĂ©e qu'avant. Pour cause, ses rĂȘves tournaient autour de cet inconnu, dont le contact s'attardait encore sur sa peau. MĂȘme maintenant, complĂštement rĂ©veillĂ©e, elle avait l'impression de flotter sur un nuage, ce qui la faisait rougir de façon incontrĂŽlable. Elle n'est sortie de sa torpeur que lorsque son tĂ©lĂ©phone a sonnĂ© et qu'elle a reçu un appel de Monica. «Alicia, j'ai reçu les rĂ©sultats de tes analyses de s*ng. J'ai transmis les substances dĂ©tectĂ©es Ă un ami, qui a un rĂ©seau trĂšs Ă©tendu. Il est en train de faire des recherches pour savoir qui a achetĂ© ce produit. » Alicia s'est redressĂ©e, l'esprit plus vif. « Merci, Monica. Je l'apprĂ©cie. » « Si tu veux vraiment me remercier, fais-moi une faveur, arrĂȘte d'ĂȘtre obsĂ©dĂ©e par cet ab**ti. Et aprĂšs le divorce, concentre-toi sur ta carriĂšre. Tu me dois bien ça. » La poitrine d'Alicia s'est rĂ©chauffĂ©e, et elle a baissĂ© la tĂȘte en signe de gratitude silencieuse. « Je sais, je sais. » Maintenant qu'elle y pensait, elle s'Ă©tait rendu compte que ses sentiments pour Joshua n'avaient jamais Ă©tĂ© de l'amour pur ; ils Ă©taient nĂ©s d'une dette, d'un sentiment d'obligation. Les attentes de sa famille avaient toujours pesĂ© lourd sur elle, et dans cette enfance solitaire et Ă©touffĂ©e, c'Ă©tait Joshua qui avait Ă©tĂ© lĂ . Son compagnon avait nourri une vague affection qu'elle avait confondue avec l'amour. « Heureusement pour moi, l'amour n'a jamais Ă©tĂ© une chose Ă laquelle je me suis accrochĂ©e », a murmurĂ© Alicia. « Ces deux derniĂšres annĂ©es, je vais juste voir ça comme un remboursement de sa gentillesse. » Monica a marquĂ© une pause, son audace habituelle Ă©tant tempĂ©rĂ©e par la rĂ©flexion. Elle savait mieux que quiconque qu'il Ă©tait une fois arrivĂ© Ă Joshua d'aimer Alicia. Mais il s'est avĂ©rĂ© que l'amour pouvait ĂȘtre une chose Ă©phĂ©mĂšre. « Alicia, j'espĂšre vraiment que tu as laissĂ© tomber pour de bon », a dit Monica avec un soupir de culpabilitĂ©. Une douleur aiguĂ« a frappĂ© la poitrine d'Alicia, ses yeux se sont mis Ă piquer alors qu'elle luttait contre l'envie de pleurer. Rapidement, elle a appuyĂ© sa main sur ses paupiĂšres, refusant de laisser couler les larmes. Seulement Ă ce moment-lĂ , elle a remarquĂ© quelque chose d'Ă©tonnant. StupĂ©faite, elle a fixĂ© sa main. L'alliance, Ă laquelle elle s'Ă©tait tant accrochĂ©e, n'Ă©tait plus lĂ . Disparue pendant toute une journĂ©e et une nuit, sans qu'elle s'en soit aperçue. Tout Ă coup, son cĆur s'est senti plus lĂ©ger, le poids de tout ce qu'elle avait portĂ© a commencĂ© Ă se dissiper. Elle a murmurĂ©, plus Ă elle-mĂȘme qu'Ă quiconque : « Oui, j'ai vraiment lĂąchĂ© prise. » Joshua n'a pas tardĂ© Ă s'en apercevoir. Il s'Ă©tait retournĂ© pour attraper rapidement quelque chose, lorsqu'il a posĂ© les yeux sur la main d'Alicia. Les sourcils froncĂ©s, il a demandĂ©, sans rĂ©flĂ©chir : « OĂč est ton alliance ? » Chapitre 4 Ses pires cauchemars Alicia ne pensait plus qu'Ă quitter Joshua, elle a donc ignorĂ© sa question et lui a demandĂ© carrĂ©ment : « Les papiers du divorce sont-ils prĂȘts ? » Encore ce mot « divorce ». De l'irritation a traversĂ© les yeux de Joshua. « Qu'est-ce qui presse ? », a-t-il lancĂ©, d'une voix froide et tranchante. « Mon pĂšre est en train de finaliser son testament, et si on apprend mon divorce, cela va ruiner ma rĂ©putation. Maintenant, prĂ©pare tes affaires, nous dĂźnons au manoir des Yates cet aprĂšs-midi. » Avec le retour de Caden, la famille a organisĂ© un dĂźner de bienvenue pour lui. Ils espĂ©raient ainsi remonter le moral de Jerald Yates, le pĂšre de Joshua. Mais Alicia n'avait pas l'intention de maintenir la façade d'un mariage heureux. « Je n'irai pas », a-t-elle annoncĂ© sĂšchement. « Finalise le divorce et arrĂȘte de me faire perdre mon temps. » Joshua a Ă©clatĂ© de rire, un son qui n'avait rien de chaleureux. « Oh, voyons, Alicia. ArrĂȘte de faire semblant. Tu as cachĂ© la bague parce que tu ne veux pas me quitter, n'est-ce pas ? Tu ne peux pas supporter l'idĂ©e d'ĂȘtre sans moi. » Il s'est penchĂ© en souriant et a ajoutĂ© : « Tu as travaillĂ© dur ces deux derniĂšres annĂ©es. MĂȘme si nous divorçons, je prendrai soin de toi, tant que tu me rendras heureux. » Les yeux d'Alicia se sont Ă©carquillĂ©s, l'incrĂ©dulitĂ© se transformant en colĂšre. Cacher la bague ? Elle ne supportait pas d'ĂȘtre sans lui ? Ses paroles arrogantes sonnaient comme des clous sur un tableau noir aux oreilles d'Alicia. Avec un rictus acĂ©rĂ©, elle a rĂ©pliquĂ© : « Oh, M. Yates, comment pourrais-je te rendre heureux ? Ne t'inquiĂšte pas, je te rendrai la bague. Qu'une femme aussi ordinaire que moi oserait-elle te faire perdre ton temps ? Une fois que tu l'auras, nous finaliserons le divorce immĂ©diatement. » Mais Joshua ne s'est pas laissĂ© impressionner par le venin d'Alicia. Il pensait la connaĂźtre trop bien, convaincu que ce n'Ă©tait qu'un stratagĂšme de plus pour attirer son attention. Sans trop rĂ©flĂ©chir, il lui a lancĂ© un sac. « Nous avons des invitĂ©s aujourd'hui. Habille-toi correctement, et ne me fais pas passer pour un mauvais bougre. » Alicia a baissĂ© les yeux sur le sac, son esprit se remĂ©morant les innombrables fois oĂč elle avait visitĂ© le manoir, habillĂ©e de vĂȘtements modestes et sans prĂ©tention, faisant tout pour se fondre dans la masse, pour lui plaire, ainsi qu'Ă sa famille. Mais aujourd'hui, avec leur divorce qui se profilait Ă l'horizon, Alicia n'avait plus envie de jouer le rĂŽle d'une Ă©pouse dĂ©vouĂ©e. AprĂšs s'ĂȘtre glissĂ©e dans la tenue, elle a soigneusement appliquĂ© une touche de maquillage, juste assez pour faire ressortir l'Ă©clat de son teint dĂ©jĂ impeccable. Les subtiles retouches accentuaient sa peau lisse et ses traits dĂ©licats, lui donnant un certain Ă©clat. Lorsque Joshua l'a remarquĂ©e en train de descendre l'escalier, il s'est figĂ© un bref instant, les yeux rivĂ©s sur elle. C'Ă©tait peut-ĂȘtre la façon dont la robe embrassait les courbes gracieuses d'Alicia, la rendant plus s**uisante qu'Ă l'accoutumĂ©e. Ă l'entrĂ©e du manoir des Yates, ils ont tous les deux repris leurs rĂŽles habituels, masquant la tension entre eux avec une aisance pratique. Alicia a passĂ© son bras dans celui de Joshua, leurs mouvements se sont synchronisĂ©s alors qu'ils marchaient dans la cour. MalgrĂ© le fait que Jerald Ă©tait trop malade pour accueillir qui que ce soit, la grande salle grouillait de vie, les proches remplissant l'espace de bavardages. Le bruit bourdonnait autour d'elle, mais pour une raison inconnue, dĂšs qu'Alicia a franchi le seuil, un froid vif a piquĂ© sa peau. Elle a instinctivement levĂ© les yeux, son regard Ă©tant immĂ©diatement attirĂ© par la silhouette qui se prĂ©lassait nonchalamment Ă l'autre bout de la piĂšce. Jambes croisĂ©es, chemise sombre dĂ©boutonnĂ©e juste assez pour dĂ©voiler une partie de sa clavicule, l'homme respirait l'arrogance, sa prĂ©sence Ă©tait imposante. Lorsque les yeux d'Alicia ont finalement croisĂ© les siens, un regard familier et autoritaire qui l'a clouĂ©e sur place. Son esprit s'est emballĂ© alors que ses Ă©motions ont commencĂ© Ă dĂ©ferler de maniĂšre incontrĂŽlĂ©e. Joshua a remarquĂ© son changement d'attitude, ses sourcils se sont froncĂ©s et il a demandĂ© : « Qu'est-ce qui se passe avec toi ? » Le souffle d'Alicia s'est arrĂȘtĂ© dans sa gorge. Un mot s'est Ă©chappĂ© de ses lĂšvres, Ă peine audible. « Caden ? » La simple mention de son nom lui a donnĂ© des frissons. Pour elle, Caden Ă©tait l'incarnation de ses pires cauchemars. Leur rencontre pour la premiĂšre fois Ă l'Ăąge de dix ans Ă©tait due Ă l'amitiĂ© de leurs familles. AprĂšs avoir pris une annĂ©e sabbatique, Caden a Ă©tĂ© transfĂ©rĂ© dans son Ă©cole et, Ă partir de ce moment, le monde parfait d'Alicia a commencĂ© Ă s'effondrer. Elle ne pouvait plus briguer la premiĂšre place. Elle avait beau s'acharner, Ă©tudier tard, Caden avait toujours une longueur d'avance. Il la dĂ©passait par la plus petite des marges, un point, peut-ĂȘtre deux, la laissant perpĂ©tuellement bloquĂ©e Ă la deuxiĂšme place. N'importe qui d'autre aurait acceptĂ© la dĂ©faite, se serait contentĂ© du rĂŽle de second. Pas Alicia. NĂ©e dans la prestigieuse famille Bennett, elle a Ă©tĂ© Ă©levĂ©e sous le poids Ă©touffant d'ĂȘtre Ă la hauteur de son nom de famille. L'excellence n'Ă©tait pas seulement un objectif, c'Ă©tait la monnaie d'Ă©change qui lui permettait de gagner l'affection de ses parents. L'Ă©chec n'Ă©tait pas une option, et pourtant Caden a eu l'audace de lui arracher tout ce pour quoi elle avait travaillĂ© avec ce qui semblait ĂȘtre une facilitĂ© sans effort. C'Ă©tait comme s'il avait jetĂ© son dĂ©volu sur elle dĂšs le dĂ©but, et Alicia, tĂȘtue Ă l'extrĂȘme, refusait de s'avouer vaincue. Leur rivalitĂ© avait durĂ© plus d'une dĂ©cennie, une bataille incessante menĂ©e Ă la fois ouvertement et dans l'ombre, et leur affrontement final avait eu lieu Ă l'universitĂ©, juste avant la remise des diplĂŽmes, lors de la compĂ©tition nationale. Alicia s'est investie corps et Ăąme dans ce moment, sa concentration Ă©tant Ă toute Ă©preuve, elle ne visait rien de moins que la perfection. Et elle y est parvenue, obtenant une note parfaite. Mais Caden, toujours le serpent, avait soudoyĂ© les juges, dĂ©formant les rĂ©sultats en sa faveur. Alicia avait Ă©tĂ© obligĂ©e, une fois de plus, de se contenter de la deuxiĂšme place. La douleur de l'injustice Ă©tait profonde, mais le coup le plus dur est venu de son pĂšre, Phil Bennett. Au tĂ©lĂ©phone, sa voix dĂ©goulinait de dĂ©ception quant Ă son classement. Alicia, habituĂ©e Ă ses tirades, n'a rien dit. Elle a attendu que sa colĂšre s'estompe, puis a demandĂ© calmement : « Je vais bientĂŽt ĂȘtre diplĂŽmĂ©e. Vous reviendrez ? » Sa mĂšre, Donna, avait toujours Ă©tĂ© son plus doux rĂ©confort. Elle a rĂ©confortĂ© Alicia ce jour-lĂ et lui a promis qu'ils seraient lĂ pour sa remise de diplĂŽme. Mais la vie avait d'autres projets. Phil et Donna, qui rentraient prĂ©cipitamment d'Itrubisite pour assister Ă la remise des diplĂŽmes, ont pĂ©ri dans un tragique accident d'avion. Du jour au lendemain, le monde d'Alicia s'est brisĂ©, la laissant orpheline dans ce monde cruel. Depuis ce jour-lĂ , elle n'a plus jamais dĂ©fiĂ© Caden. Par la suite, Caden a quittĂ© Warrington pour faire carriĂšre Ă l'Ă©tranger. « Il est revenu pour l'hĂ©ritage », a marmonnĂ© Joshua, la voix Ă peine audible. Alicia lui a jetĂ© un regard en coin lorsqu'il a continuĂ© : « Avec un empire familial aussi grand que le nĂŽtre, un fils aĂźnĂ© comme lui n'abandonnerait pas si facilement. » Ses sourcils se sont lĂ©gĂšrement froncĂ©s. C'Ă©tait vrai, l'empire Yates Ă©tait Ă©norme, un hĂ©ritage pour lequel la plupart des gens tueraient. Mais Caden avait accumulĂ© sa propre fortune, dĂ©passant mĂȘme l'immense richesse de la famille. Se souciait-il vraiment de l'hĂ©ritage ? Mais encore une fois, c'Ă©tait Caden. La compĂ©tition coulait dans ses veines. MĂȘme s'il ne se souciait pas de la fortune comme telle, il se battrait bec et ongles pour gagner, pour jouer avec les autres. L'homme avait le don de semer le chaos pour son propre plaisir. Alicia Ă©tait sa rivale depuis toujours, et mĂȘme aujourd'hui, l'idĂ©e de lui accorder ne serait-ce qu'un regard lui semblait une perte d'Ă©nergie. Elle s'est donc retournĂ©e pour s'Ă©loigner. Mais Joshua lui a attrapĂ© le poignet, sa poigne Ă©tant ferme et tendue Ă la fois. « Je sais que vous ne vous entendez pas », a-t-il dit. « Mais il reste mon frĂšre aĂźnĂ©. En public, il faut quand mĂȘme aller le saluer. » Le corps d'Alicia s'est raidi Ă ce contact, et elle a immĂ©diatement essayĂ© de retirer sa main, sa peau se dĂ©robant sous son emprise. Joshua a froncĂ© les sourcils. « Alicia, sois sage », a-t-il sifflĂ©. Elle a senti l'irritation monter dans sa poitrine. « Je ne refuse pas d'entrer. Mais laisse-moi d'abord. Je ne veux pas que tes mains sales me touchent. » Une lueur sombre est passĂ©e sur le visage de Joshua, et au lieu de la relĂącher, il a entrelacĂ© leurs doigts, les serrant fortement. Alicia s'est mordu la langue, silencieusement furieuse. Alors qu'ils s'approchaient, Caden a lentement levĂ© les yeux, qui se sont rĂ©trĂ©cis dans une Ă©valuation paresseuse, presque ennuyĂ©e, d'eux. « Salut, Caden », a dit Joshua, le ton tendu, en rencontrant le regard de son frĂšre avec une cordialitĂ© forcĂ©e. Caden a regardĂ© leurs mains entrelacĂ©es, un sourire en coin s'est dessinĂ© sur sa bouche. « Ta petite amie ? », a-t-il demandĂ© d'un air indiffĂ©rent, comme s'il ne reconnaissait pas Alicia. Chapitre 5 On se retrouve si vite, n'est-ce pas ? Les nerfs d'Alicia Ă©taient tendus comme un ressort. Cette voix... Ses pensĂ©es dĂ©sordonnĂ©es se confondaient avec le chaos, mais la dĂ©claration calme de Joshua a percĂ© le brouillard. « Alicia et moi sommes mariĂ©s depuis deux ans. Elle tient Ă moi, alors nous sommes restĂ©s discrets. Nous sommes allĂ©s directement Ă l'enregistrement, sans cĂ©rĂ©monie. Tu Ă©tais occupĂ© Ă l'Ă©tranger Ă l'Ă©poque, alors nous ne t'avons pas dĂ©rangĂ©. » Caden a froncĂ© les sourcils, sa voix Ă©tant empreinte d'une moquerie venimeuse. « Oh, alors elle est ma belle-sĆur. » La façon dont il a prononcĂ© les mots « belle-sĆur » ressemblait plus Ă une g**le qu'Ă un titre, ne laissant aucun doute sur le mĂ©pris qu'il Ă©prouvait pour elle. Alicia pouvait sentir le rictus de l'homme Ă travers chaque syllabe. Et tout cela Ă cause de son soi-disant mari, Joshua. La main tremblante, elle s'est emparĂ©e d'un mouchoir en papier, s'essuyant vigoureusement la main, comme pour se laver de son contact sale. « On dirait qu'Alicia est un peu germophobe », a fait remarquer Caden, avec un ton dĂ©sinvolte. L'expression de Joshua est devenue plus sombre, la tension entre eux s'est intensifiĂ©e. Il ne s'attendait pas Ă ce qu'elle l'humilie de la sorte. « Il semble que je l'ai trop gĂątĂ©e », a-t-il marmonnĂ©, la voix basse et crispĂ©e par l'irritation. Les yeux de Caden ont brillĂ© d'une lueur dangereuse. « Si c'est une maladie grave, elle devrait se faire soigner. Cela pourrait avoir un impact sur son comportement en tant que mĂšre. Tu sais Ă quel point notre pĂšre a voulu avoir un petit-enfant. » Ă ce moment-lĂ , quelque chose a traversĂ© les yeux de Joshua. MĂȘme si Alicia, sa femme, Ă©tait juste Ă cĂŽtĂ© de lui, il s'est lancĂ© et a menti comme un arracheur de dents. « Merci de t'inquiĂ©ter, Caden, mais j'ai dĂ©jĂ de bonnes nouvelles pour papa. Je n'ai pas encore eu le temps de lui dire. » Le sourire de Caden s'est accentuĂ©, son regard s'est portĂ© sur Alicia, qui n'en pouvait plus de cette mascarade Ă la con. Elle s'est discrĂštement excusĂ©e et s'est Ă©loignĂ©e. « Ă quel stade en est-elle ? », Caden a-t-il demandĂ© d'un ton sĂ©rieux. « Elle n'a pas l'air d'ĂȘtre enceinte. » Joshua n'a pas perdu une seconde. « Juste un mois. » La rĂ©ponse Ă©tait autant une menace qu'une annonce. Les enjeux de l'hĂ©ritage venaient d'ĂȘtre revus Ă la hausse, et Jerald, toujours soucieux de perpĂ©tuer la lignĂ©e familiale, ne manquerait pas de prendre en considĂ©ration son petit-fils Ă naĂźtre. Le sourire de Caden s'est durci, et Joshua a donnĂ© le coup de grĂące avec un ton suffisant. « Tu ferais mieux de te dĂ©pĂȘcher, Caden. Je ne peux pas toujours avoir une longueur d'avance. » Caden, imperturbable, a agitĂ© la main paresseusement. « Rien ne presse. » Alicia s'est installĂ©e sur la terrasse, la brise fraĂźche de la nuit balayant sa peau. Elle inhalait l'air frais avec aviditĂ© pour apaiser ses nerfs.' Elle a sorti son tĂ©lĂ©phone et a recomposĂ© rapidement le numĂ©ro du gĂ©rant du cinĂ©ma privĂ©. « Avez-vous retrouvĂ© la bague ? », a-t-elle demandĂ© avec anxiĂ©tĂ©. Le gĂ©rant a hĂ©sitĂ©, l'air troublĂ©. « Mme Bennett, nous avons fait des recherches approfondies et interrogĂ© tout le personnel, mais nous n'avons vraiment pas retrouvĂ© aucune bague. » « Alors... » Alicia a serrĂ© le poing, son esprit s'est emballĂ©. « Avez-vous les coordonnĂ©es du client qui a rĂ©servĂ© la chambre ce jour-lĂ ? » « Je suis dĂ©solĂ©e, mais en raison de notre politique de confidentialitĂ©, nous ne pouvons divulguer aucune information sur nos clients. » Son cĆur s'est serrĂ©. « Je vois », a-t-elle soupirĂ© avec rĂ©signation. « Merci, s'il y a du nouveau, prĂ©venez-moi rapidement. » En temps normal, elle aurait pu acheter une bague identique et la faire passer pour l'originale. Malheureusement, Joshua avait fait faire cette bague sur mesure, et ce n'Ă©tait pas facile Ă reproduire. AprĂšs le dĂźner, il a commencĂ© Ă pleuvoir. Les membres de la famille ont commencĂ© Ă sortir les uns aprĂšs les autres. Joshua est restĂ© Ă ses cĂŽtĂ©s pendant qu'ils se dirigeaient vers la voiture, ses yeux se posant sur son poignet nu. « Si tu as aimĂ© ce bracelet Ă la vente aux enchĂšres, je peux t'acheter quelque chose de semblable », a-t-il dit froidement. Alicia devait rĂ©sister Ă l'envie de rouler des yeux sardoniques. Elle ne croyait pas une seconde que Joshua pouvait avoir changĂ© d'avis Ă son Ă©gard. « Tu veux me compenser par culpabilitĂ© ? » Ses mots Ă©taient acĂ©rĂ©s, perçant la façade douce de Joshua. « Ce n'est pas nĂ©cessaire. Je n'ai aucune envie de me mĂȘler de tes affaires. » Joshua n'avait pas eu l'intention de s'exprimer ainsi, mais son ton moqueur avait touchĂ© un point sensible. Sa mĂąchoire s'est serrĂ©e et un sourire amer a traversĂ© ses lĂšvres. « TrĂšs bien. Ne le prends pas. L'argent que je dĂ©pense pour toi est un gaspillage de toute façon. » Alicia s'est mordu l'intĂ©rieur de la joue avant d'ajouter fermement : « Joshua, je te l'ai dĂ©jĂ dit. Je suis prĂȘte Ă quitter ce mariage les mains vides. Signons les papiers du divorce demain matin et mettons fin Ă tout cela une fois pour toutes. » Son sourire s'est transformĂ© en quelque chose Ă la fois de sombre et de dangereux. « Et la bague ? » « Je l'ai perdue. » Les yeux de Joshua se sont rĂ©trĂ©cis, son ton Ă©tait implacable. « Je me fiche de tout le reste. Je veux la bague. » Elle avait du mal Ă contenir sa frustration, son souffle se coupant lorsqu'il lui a portĂ© le coup de grĂące. « Si tu ne la trouves pas, j'en dĂ©duirai que tu la gardes parce que tu tiens encore Ă moi », lui a-t-il dit froidement. Ă ce moment-lĂ , le tĂ©lĂ©phone de Joshua a sonnĂ©, c'Ă©tait Lilliana qui appelait. « ChĂ©ri », a-t-elle miaulĂ©, pitoyable, en prononçant son nom. « Le tonnerre est tellement fort. J'ai peur de dormir seule, tu peux venir ? » La voiture n'a pas pris le chemin de chez Lilliana et Joshua Ă©tait furieux contre Alicia, alors sans hĂ©siter, il l'a jetĂ©e dehors sous la pluie et a filĂ© Ă toute allure. Il ne lui a mĂȘme pas donnĂ© de parapluie. Alicia est restĂ©e figĂ©e sur le bord de la route, la pluie battante s'infiltrant rapidement dans ses vĂȘtements. La pluie froide s'est infiltrĂ©e dans ses os, la glaçant jusqu'Ă la moelle. Serrant les dents, elle a avalĂ© le goĂ»t amer qu'elle avait dans la bouche et a commencĂ© Ă marcher sur le trottoir dĂ©trempĂ©. DerriĂšre elle, le doux ronronnement d'un moteur se rapprochait. Une Maybach Ă©lĂ©gante et discrĂšte s'est approchĂ©e d'elle, ses phares coupant Ă travers la pluie. « M. Ward, je crois que c'est Mme Bennett », a dit le chauffeur en jetant un coup d'Ćil en arriĂšre. La voiture a ralenti pour s'arrĂȘter. Caden a jetĂ© un coup d'Ćil par la fenĂȘtre, ses yeux aiguisĂ©s se sont rĂ©trĂ©cis sur la silhouette solitaire d'Alicia. Elle a fait une pause, ses doigts rassemblant le tissu de sa robe trempĂ©e, la nouant pour allĂ©ger sa foulĂ©e. Ses jambes fines luisaient sous la pluie. MalgrĂ© l'apparence dĂ©licate de ses jambes, elles dĂ©gageaient une force tranquille. Il ne pouvait s'empĂȘcher de se souvenir cette nuit-lĂ ... Caden se sont courbĂ©es en un lĂ©ger sourire complice. « Invite-la Ă l'intĂ©rieur », a-t-il dit. La voiture s'est donc arrĂȘtĂ©e Ă cĂŽtĂ© d'Alicia. Le chauffeur est sorti, tenant un grand parapluie au-dessus d'Alicia, d'une voix polie. « Mme Bennett, il est difficile de trouver un taxi Ă cette heure-ci. Puis-je vous proposer de vous raccompagner ? » Alicia a levĂ© les yeux, reconnaissant l'homme comme le chauffeur de la famille Yates. Elle a hĂ©sitĂ© un instant avant d'acquiescer, la voix douce mais posĂ©e. « Merci, je suis dĂ©solĂ©e pour le dĂ©rangement. » Cependant, dĂšs qu'elle s'est glissĂ©e sur le siĂšge arriĂšre de la voiture, elle a croisĂ© le regard de l'autre passager, Caden. « On se retrouve si vite, n'est-ce pas ? » Sa voix, douce comme du velours, Ă©tait teintĂ©e d'une pointe de malice. ...... Que se passe-t-il ensuite? Le nombre de chapitres affichĂ©s est limitĂ©. Appuyez sur le bouton ci-dessous pour installer notre application et lire les chapitres suivants. (AccĂ©der automatiquement Ă ce livre en ouvrant l'application) &3& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20695410-fb_contact-fra | Heat stories | https://www.facebook.com/61563777993401/ | 339 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.kifflire.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.kifflire.com/20695410-fb_contact-fra265_2-241115-core1.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=3718040878523032&rawadid=120213470757020390 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467704924_550923564472526_4450585050378051272_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yGSA2NICNjQQ7kNvgFiiyIj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A8gOGcctCuMY2pbMomVXmLk&oh=00_AYBQ5s3pfJKueT_1q2ayvEREqtWFF6cnBamCnv3mgRqU6g&oe=675D6223 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Games & Puzzles Sale 15% | Don't miss your chance to save 15% on educational fun--Games & Puzzles! 3 days only! | LEARN_MORE | https://www.sonlight.com/christmas-gift-guide | Sonlight Curriculum | https://www.facebook.com/sonlight/ | 63,668 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | www.sonlight.com | DCO | {{product.description}} | https://www.sonlight.com/christmas-gift-guide | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469560752_2394882350848314_6837402690339121644_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IJ4eC2BFSR0Q7kNvgE_V8ZG&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AW_lbPg7nP6Vy8yvQdPM1y_&oh=00_AYBbl_BknOUr5tnCGjXO5teMWh_BUrxyNjbxXzjrMrnaDg&oe=675D744C | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Sonlight Curriculum | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Read more FREE chaptersđ | This wasnât the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it beâŠ? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owenâs family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I canât believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why⊠I had to confront him. âOwen?â I called out. âOwen, where are you?â He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: âNo, I donât think I love her anymore.â His words gave me icy chills. âYou should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.â Owen continued. âHe said...what?â I couldnât believe my ears and cried in my heart, âHow dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! â Hearing Owenâs frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, âQuestion him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I donât think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.â So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. âJust in time for your dinner, hun!â I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. âWhere are you going? Itâs getting late and dinner is ready.â I said. âDinner with a client. Donât wait for me.â Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food Iâd carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasnât hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that werenât perfect. My belly wasnât as flat as it used to be. Maybe I shouldâve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... âJoiseâ! âJosieâŠ? Were you with Josie?â I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldnât understand. I couldnât believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didnât recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. âOwen, are you OK?â I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, âIf youâre sick, go see a doctor.â I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: âJosieâ. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said âJosieâ. He answered: âHello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.â I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldnât hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he wouldâve never let me suffer like this. âIâll pick you up later.â Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. âPlease, donât leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. Iâm too weak to be all by myself.â He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldnât help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: âIn sickness and in health, in good times and badâ. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: âHello, Noah?â The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. âIâm so sick, Iâm so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, pleaseâŠâ I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. âIâll be right there.â Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. Whatâs wrong? I didnât have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owenâs uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymondâs appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his familyâs business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. âDoes Owen know youâre sick?â Raymond said, looking concerned. âHow did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?â I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. âDon't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.â Oops, I must have pressed the number of âOwenâs Bossâ instead of âOwenâ. I apologized for the inconvenience. âYou are a member of our family, Noah. Itâs my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.â Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. âThank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.â I said with a relieved sigh. âOf course, Noah. Whenever you need me, Iâll be there.â He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldnât have shared my familyâs private problems with another man who I didnât even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? âI donât think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.â I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. âHow could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!â Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. âPlease, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.â I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadnât seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymondâs aftershave smelled a little special. âRaymond? Noah? What are you doing?!â I suddenly heard Owenâs angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didnât seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. âSo, youâve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!â Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasnât the one who couldnât be trusted! âOwen! How dare you talk to her like that! Itâs not our familyâs manner!â Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymondâs fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didnât want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. âRaymond, itâs okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.â I said gratefully. âPlease, donât say anything about Josieâ, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldnât detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. âOwen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymondâs number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.â Owen grabbed me and said, âWell, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and âfallâ right into his arms.â He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. âYou can go back to your important job now, uncle. Iâll look after my wife.â Raymondâs eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that heâd better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didnât want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. âOwen⊠What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?â I asked. âSo what? Whose wife do you want to be?â Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. âI know you cheated on me, Owen.â I uttered with pain in my voice. âYouâve been seeing Josie, right?â Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. âWhat do you know, Noah?â he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: âSomeone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didnât want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. âOwen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I canât believe you would cheat me like that!â I cried, âOwen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!â His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldnât answer, Owen said: âItâs true. I love her. I love Josie.â Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? âWhy, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?â I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. âOwen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.â He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, âI donât have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!â I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didnât fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldnât get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: âYou lost your footing. Itâs not my fault.â There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. âRaymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.â âI came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You havenât ⊠Noah?â Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. âThis is how you treat your wife?! I donât believe you. Donât you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!â Raymond raged at his nephew. I didnât even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. âTwice in one day? That must be a record.â The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, âNot by choiceâŠâ The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. âI donât normally need so much help, you know.â I broke the ice. âI happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.â Raymond laughed heartily. âJokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.â I continued. âWhy did you come over tonight, Raymond?â âOwen hadnât come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.â Raymond explained. âI just canât believe what he did to you!â He continued. âIf he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. Iâll teach him a lesson.â His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. âThank you, Raymond. Iâm okay now. It was an accident. Owen didnât push me off the stairs on purpose. He didnât mean to hurt me.â I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. âGoodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.â I said with feeling as he hugged me. âBye, Noah. Itâs been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.â He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldnât believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didnât he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josieâs betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. âHow dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for Godâs sake!â I cried out. They hadnât heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasnât so devastated, it mightâve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josieâs blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. âI donât believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!â I insisted. Josie hid away in Owenâs arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: âYouâve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?â âI am done with you.â He continued. âOur whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie shouldâve been with me all along!â I didnât understand. âWhat are you talking about, Owen?â He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josieâs collarbone. âRemember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. Youâve made her suffer long enough!â I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didnât believe me. âJosie,â I cried. âHow could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! Weâve been best friends since the orphanage, havenât we? Does that mean nothing to you?â âNoah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,âJosie played innocent with me, âI should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.â This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldnât see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were naturalïŒ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josieâs waist and warned me, âYouâd better stay out of our life from now on. Iâll move to another villa with Josie.â I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other⊠But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, ânecklaceâ is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didnât believe our years of affection couldnât prove my heart. âNoah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.â Josie said. âOne day youâll both regret this. I didnât do anything wrong.â I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: âItâs my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldnât have suffered so much.â I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owenâs whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owenâs angry shouting: âHow dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!â Chapter 6 - Choice Noah âWhat?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what youâre talking about.â I replied to the angry voice on the phone. âMore lies! I canât believe you, Noah. You're despicable!â Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. âOwen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?â âJosie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!â He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. âOh, itâs our âold friendâ.â The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josieâs room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. âFinally! That took you long enough.â He whispered angrily. âJosie is sleeping.â He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. âI have no idea what happened, Owen.â I said honestly. âCan you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?â âAre you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.â He shook his head, then continued. âJosie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.â âWhat? That's horrible!â I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. âStop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.â No wonder he doubted me. But I couldnât believe the trust between us was so fragile. âWould you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?â I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: âNever again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.â I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to meïŒ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. âI didnât prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?â I said plainly. I didnât know why he came back at this time, but I didnât care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, âYou still donât want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!â âJosie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!â I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. âI choose divorce.â I said coldly. âGood. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,âOwen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, âOh, Iâve prepared another âsurpriseâ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!â | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 323 | 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=14837&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/t39.35426-6/463597775_582094714153271_4372770918399302515_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lF3ubralEZIQ7kNvgFY_OnV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AZsGA-umUwjLHfIlaoFmXL6&oh=00_AYAlT6MaFpgSFVK-AMwaPH76cdu9a79zixpw3tEz4AlzDg&oe=675D8690 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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He drunkenly hugged her âCall me husband again ......â | đNyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? OrâŠ' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didnât know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so letâs not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." ⊠It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clockâ3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nylaâs phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwinedâtheir heavy breathing filling the roomâpierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. ⊠By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine hereâ" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clarkâs journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clarkâs name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nylaâs red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once youâre calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clarkâs betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nylaâs reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." ⊠After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damonâs hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Letâ Mmph! Let me goâŠ" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nylaâs senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didnât feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me goâŠ" Nylaâs voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldnât believe itâthe man who almost violated her was Clarkâs uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle DamonâŠ" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistakeâit wasnât Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husbandâs uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephewâs wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. ⊠When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didnât you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didnât love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, Iâm sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Donât touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, Iâve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But Iâve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why canât you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, youâre the only one I love⊠It was just an accident with herâŠ" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So youâre saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, Iâll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clarkâs expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, Iâve made up my mind. Iâm divorcing you. You donât deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. ⊠Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damonâs hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didnât notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Donât touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didnât you always want a child? Letâs have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it wonât be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didnât care. "It doesnât matter how many times I say it. Iâm disgusted by you. Iâd rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nylaâs struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. ⊠For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. ⊠The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clarkâs expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clarkâs arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true selfâselfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next monthâ" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Letâs go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasnât on his side todayâthey met at the door. He didnât notice Nylaâs stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nylaâs gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I donât like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I donât like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. Weâll deal with this later." "If you donât want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didnât want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the companyâs shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, youâre here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you donât bring a girlfriend next time, donât bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damonâs gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasnât the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe Iâll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "Youâre too picky! Iâve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, donât ruin it." "Then youâll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, âYouâre going to drive me crazy!â Damon glanced at Clark. âClark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why donât you encourage him to have kids?â Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldnât listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. âNyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?â Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clarkâs aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, youâll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldnât dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldnât happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldnât pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, weâll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight yearsâthe best years of her life, from 18 to 26âloving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 865 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&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/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Dc0mm5NKt2wQ7kNvgFriccn&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5ls_n74gPLUHG1Gow4DnZC&oh=00_AYAZi4RQ8u4EvvMxXsU0bOYgb2x26f5kc2UrO70a9R3z2g&oe=675D552E | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |