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2,064,976	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064926}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:06	active	1566	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,977	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064926}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:06	active	1566	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	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2,064,995	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2064926}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	🔞🔥 Continuer la lecture ➤➤	(Lily POV) Today is my 14th birthday. There will not be birthday cake, singing, or a party. Instead, we are attending a funeral. My sister's funeral, to be exact. Before my sister... died... we had a large party planned for me. I normally do not have a big party, but 14th birthdays are a really big event to werewolves. They are the day that we first meet our wolves. The next monumental birthday is our 20th birthday; that is when can first identify our fated mates. I am our Beta’s youngest daughter, and my father is loved and well-respected. Everyone was excited to meet my wolf and to see what type of wolf she would be. Thus, the guest list for my party was pretty large, and it included ranked wolves from nearby packs. I am normally a little bit of a loner, hence why I usually do not have a big birthday party. However, for this particular occasion, I was happy to have a lot of guests. Meeting your wolf comes with the first shift/ transition, and that can be incredibly painful. As inherently social creatures, the only thing known to help wolves with the pain of the first shift is to have supportive family, friends, and community around you. The way that it typically works is that the pack will host a dinner or barbeque in your honor. As night falls, and the moon replaces the sun in the sky, everyone will gather inside the pack amphitheater. The shifter-to-be will stand in the middle of the amphitheater while guests quietly chant well wishes and prayers to the Moon Goddess. The energy in the space can be electrifying for everyone present, no matter whether there are 25 attendees or 500. Once the first shift is completed, the new wolf will prance around the stage and strut their stuff. The crowd will “ooh” and “aah” until the pack alpha approaches, learns the new wolf’s name, and introduces the wolf to the crowd. The new wolf will also swear his or her allegiance to the pack and to the alpha, allowing the wolf to mind-link with other pack wolves. Finally, the new wolf and any guests old enough to shift will go for a pack run. The whole process is incredibly special and exciting. As you might imagine, décor is also an important part of the party planning process. Each shifter gets to decide the decorations and party theme that will be used for their party. If more than one wolf turns 14 on the same day, the wolves can either agree on a theme or split the party into parts that they can individually decorate. The pack luna will then work some sort of magic that somehow blends the individual areas into one cohesive theme in the center. My birthday is in October, and despite how large our pack is, I am the only one born on that day. I love having an October birthday because my favorite season is fall. For my décor, I had picked flowers and decorations in rich fall colors, including deep oranges, reds, and greens. Unfortunately, none of my party decorations will be used. Or rather, none of my decorations will be used for me. As I mentioned, we are holding a funeral today instead. My oldest sister, Stephanie, died this morning. Pack and religious tradition dictates that we must hold funerals within 24 hours of death. Because Stephanie died shortly after midnight, her funeral must be held today. All food and décor set aside for my birthday party was therefore immediately diverted for the funeral; thankfully my fall themed colors were sufficiently somber-ish to work. All decorations that seemed relatively “happy”, celebratory, or that mention me have been removed. Pictures of Stephanie have now been placed on tables and podiums, and the music I selected has been swapped out for songs about loss or Stephanie’s favorites. The loss of Stephanie is a really hurting. Not only was she my sister and my parents’ oldest and favorite child, she was also widely anticipated to be the mate of Alpha Randall’s son, James, which meant she was most likely the future luna of our pack. Stephanie would have turned 20 in three months, and she and James would have been able to confirm that they were mates then. The pack was so sure that they were mates —and Alpha Randall was so eager to turn the pack over to James and his mate, once she was identified and ready to take on the luna position— that they deviated from standard protocols and decided to begin Stephanie’s Luna training just after she turned 18. If I am being completely honest, something never sat right with me about Stephanie starting Luna training. Part of it is what Stephanie's Luna training meant for me, but that is a separate conversation. The biggest thing was that I did not understand why luna training could not wait until Stephanie turned 20 and could confirm who her mate was. Lunas for generations have waited for their training; why couldn't Stephanie? It also bothered me quite a bit to watch Stephanie hang all over James at pack functions. Our pack frowned upon dating and public displays of affection prior to finding your mate; it created too much risk for problems, anger, and jealousy once your mate was located. For whatever reason, an exception was made for Stephanie. But then again, exceptions always were made for her. Stephanie was strong and absolutely beautiful, and the pack knew her as being kind, smart, and energetic. She could do no wrong in the eyes of my parents, the alpha, or the pack. I hope I do not sound too jealous or bitter. I loved my sister, and her death is hitting me really hard. It’s just that…. I knew a different side of my sister than everyone else, and I know more than anyone that my sister was far from perfect. Had I spoken up before she died, I would have been accused of jealousy and lying. And were I to speak up now, well… I would be accused of jealousy, lying, AND improperly speaking ill of the dead. It is easier to just let it go. Along with my birthday. It isn't that important anyway. I do not want to be selfish or self-centered. The only immediate problem with letting go is that --bad timing or not-- I am going to shift for the first time tonight. There is nothing I can do to stop or postpone it, as much as I would like to do so. I am worried about how it is going to go. Hopefully, during the reception, my mother or father or brother or someone will be willing to step aside with me for a 20-30 minutes just to get me through it. We could then return and act like everything is normal. Or as normal as it can be with Stephanie now gone. Sadly, I should have known that nothing in life is that easy. Chapter 2: The Little Brat (James POV) I watch sadly as the casket is carried from the temple to the burial grounds. It is a cold October day, and the gray sky and drizzly weather adds to the overall somber atmosphere. I cannot help but be impressed at how quickly the pack was able to pull everything together for Stephanie's funeral. All funerals happen quickly in our world, but because of how fast the funerals must take place, the décor and guest list is usually somewhat lacking. It is a testament to how much Stephanie was loved that they were able to put together so many beautiful floral arrangements in her honor, and that so many people were able to be here to honor her life, including many wolves from other packs. If it wasn't for it being such a horrible occasion, I would actually describe the color scheme as beautiful. Then again, fall has always been one of my favorite seasons. I am vaguely aware that we had some other function on the calendar today, but I honestly cannot think of what it was. With a large pack —the West Mountain Pack has over 10,000 members— we have a lot of functions. As the future alpha, I am expected to attend as many of them as I possibly can, but no one expects me to remember what they all are… even if I try to pretend in the moment. Unless reminded by an Omega or my amazing girlfriend, I can't even seem to remember my own mother and father's birthdays most of the time. My amazing girlfriend. I sigh, wiping a tear from my eye. She will never again be around to remind me about birthdays. Sadly, there will be no pretending that I know what today's ceremony is about. Stephanie Brogan was the love of my life, and she was my future mate and luna. I still cannot believe that she is gone. We never even got to fully experience the mate bond, including the sparks betwwen us. Had she lived just three months longer, our wolves would have confirmed one another as mates and Stephanie would have been able to formally claim her proper place in my bed and in my life. Instead of welcoming her body into my bed, I am saying good-bye to her today. I am also saying good-bye to all of our future plans and dreams together. I cannot help but feel anger and resentment about that. This is not how things were supposed to be. As I watch the funeral procession go by --my father, mother, and I, along with the beta family, must stand at the entrance as guests move from the temple to the burial grounds-- I catch a glimpse of Stephanie’s younger sister, Lily. She is standing next to her mother. She looks both sad and innocent, which causes the anger in my body to rise even more. That little brat is the reason that Stephanie is dead. *FLASHBACK TO LAST NIGHT* Stephanie and I are cuddled on the couch in the packhouse living room watching a movie. I have my hand on her arm and I am about to kiss her when she gets distracted by a text message. Stephanie did not let me see the message, which annoys me, but she quickly explains that Lily is lost in the forest after having snuck out to meet a boy. Stephanie’s sister is 13 or 14 years old. She has all the teenage acne and attitude that comes along with being that young. Unlike Stephanie —who has beautiful blond hair and hazel eyes— Lily has reddish brown hair and bright green eyes. Or at least I think they are bright green; she usually has them covered up with large black glasses. Stephanie gets up and tells me that Lily has texted her, begging her to come and find her. I am annoyed by the interruption, but I offer to go with Stephanie to get the little brat. Stephanie says Lily will be upset if anyone else knows about her little escapade. Stephanie reassures me that she will be fine, and then gives me a quick peck. My wolf and I have a bad feeling when Stephanie leaves, but Stephanie has us wrapped around her little finger. It is almost impossible for my wolf and I to disagree with her about anything. We pause the movie and decide to get some work done in my dad's office while we wait for Stephanie to get back. I am a night owl anyway, so I do not mind waiting. Unfortunately, about an hour after Stephanie leaves, I get an urgent mind-link from our pack warriors. They report that the Little Brat had been spotted running out of the woods screaming for help. Before they can say much more, I shift into my wolf form and take off running. I follow Stephanie’s scent far into the woods…. until I come to a small clearing, which is covered in Stephanie’s blood. Her bloody clothes are tossed around, and chunks of her hair are thrown about as well. It is the worst, most savage site that I have ever seen. The smell of rogues is all over, so it is fairly obvious what has happened. The a---holes didn’t even bother to leave her body. *END OF FLASHBACK* Tears threaten to continue to fall as I think back to the scene last night. I have not slept or eaten since I found what was left of Stephanie, and I am having trouble holding my emotions together. Now that my eyes have spotted Lily, my anger with her becomes a welcome distraction. I have a very hard time looking away from her. The truth is that I have always found myself strangely curious about her, but today… today all I want to do is take my anger out on someone, and she seems as good a target as anyone else. Her teenage behavior cost me my mate! And it cost this pack its future luna! My wolf, Luke, begs me to calm down. It is an interesting thing, having the wolf side try to calm the human side. As upset and angry and emotional as I am, it is tempting to ignore him and immediately start teach that Little Brat a lesson. However, I decide to follow Luke's advice after he reminds me that Stephanie deserves to have her funeral be all about her and not some whiny teenage brat. That does not mean that I am going to let Lily get away with what she has done, but I wait until a more appropriate time to take my revenge. I turn my focus back to Stephanie’s casket, which we filled with her bloody clothes, hair, and anything that could be found at the site that had her blood on it. The casket has been brought to the center of the amphitheater. The alpha and beta families take their seats in the front row, and my father and the pack priest move beside the casket to begin the ceremony. The ceremony involves a lot of prayers, rituals, and speakers. The average ceremony takes 2-3 hours, and Stephanie's will most likely take closer to 4-5 hours given her status in the pack and how beloved she was. During the ceremony, I keep trying to distract myself by looking around as others around me. I do not want to be seen as weak by curling into the fetal position and wailing like a baby, even though that is the only thing I want to do right now. My heart breaks as I glance at Stephanie’s parents next to me in the front row, holding on to one another as they cry. Seeing Stephanie’s father —a strong, powerful Beta wolf— break down is a sight I have very rarely seen. The pain in his eyes is heart-wrenching. I also notice Stephanie's brother, Nick, as he clings to his mate, Jenny. Both of them are crying as well. Nick is my best friend, and I have known him since we were tiny pups, but I have literally never seen him cry. I notice that there are no dry eyes anywhere. Even my father has a few stray tears running down his cheeks, although I am sure he would punch anyone who pointed it out. He is a proud man, just like me. As the sky continues to darken, I notice the Little Brat starting to act like she is uncomfortable in her seat. I can tell that Stephanie's mother is getting agitated, and rightly so. For once, can the Little Brat not think about something other than herself? Seriously. It is one ceremony. Just one. For an older sister who died trying to help her. How dare the Little Brat not hold herself together? The next thing I know, the moon is high in the sky and the final rites are being spoken by the priest. As exactly that moment, the Little Brat whispers something in her mother’s ear. Her mother turns and glares at her, causing the Little Brat to put her head down. I then watch as the Little Brat stands up and walks away. She looks like she is in pain, and I hope that she is. How dare she walk away from her sister’s funeral! Especially in the middle of the last rites! I am tempted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind, but Stephanie means more to me than that. I remind myself once again that I will get my revenge on Lily aka the Little Brat soon enough. For tonight, I must remain focused on the love of my life. Chapter 3: Lily Meets Rose “Y-yes.” “Good. Now open your eyes.” I opened my eyes and immediately noticed that I was not human anymore. My feet and hands were paws. I then looked into the water that pooled at the edge of the waterfall, and I saw my reflection… or rather the reflection of Rose. My heart stopped. There are many different types of wolves —alpha wolves; beta wolves; gamma wolves; warrior wolves; silver wolves; white wolves; red wolves; omega wolves. And even within those categories, there are varying sizes and colors and markings. We learn about the types of wolves in school. “Expect the unexpected” was a phrase that was often said about the first transition, but in reality your wolf generally follows your lineage: the children of alpha wolves will generally be alpha wolves; the children of beta wolves will generally be beta wolves; and so on. Typically, the big excitement —especially with children of ranked wolves— centers on the size, color, and personality of the new wolf. Looking back at me in the reflection of the pool was a type of wolf I had never seen or learned about in school. Rose’s fur was a beautiful bluish-silver color that almost glowed. On the right side of her rump was a large black crescent moon symbol, and the black coloring of that symbol matched her solid black paws and black tail. In addition, I noticed that Rose was huge. Although it was tough to tell, it appeared to me that Rose was at least as large as some alpha wolves. “What type of wolf are we, Rose?” “A special type. You will learn more as time goes on, but know that the Moon Goddess has blessed you and I, Lily.” I did not say anything; I was not sure what to say. Rose and I sat by the waterfall for a while longer, until I remembered Stephanie’s funeral. “We need to get back!” I told Rose in a panic. Rose guided me through how to transform back to our human form, and I frantically searched the nearby trees for clothes. I found a men’s t-shirt and shorts. Both were far too big for my small frame, so I opted to just put the t-shirt on. I also grabbed my eye-glasses off the ground and put them on; thankfully they did not break during the transition. Now that I had Rose, I would not need the glasses anymore because she would heal my eyes. However, Rose warned me that —for now— it was best that I continue to wear the glasses and let the pack believe that I did not yet have my wolf. I thought it was a curious thing for her to say, but I had no reason to not trust her. I hurried back to the packhouse and got into the beta suite, hoping to quickly change clothes and re-join the mourning crowd. Unfortunately, once I got in the suite, I was met with the angry, accusing eyes of my mother. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? HOW DARE YOU MAKE A SCENE AT YOUR SISTER’S FUNERAL! HAVE YOU NO SHAME? ARE YOU SO SELFISH AND SELF-CENTERED THAT YOU CAN THINK OF NO ONE BUT YOURSELF?” I said nothing. What could I say? My mother then did something that, in my 14 years, she had never done before. She slapped me. Hard. And the beating continued from there. Chapter 4: Living in the Shadows (6 years later) (Lily POV) Six years have now passed since that fateful day that Stephanie died. I wish that I could say that life has moved on, and that we have found good in the bad... but for the most part, it isn't true. Stephanie is just as much a part of this pack today as she was before she died. And the grief felt in the pack is just as raw and angry as it was that first day. If anything has changed, it is that --instead of Stephanie being out in the center of things-- she lives on almost like a shadow over everything. She now has a couple of streets named after her --Stephanie Lane and Steffie Avenue (her nickname was "Steffie"); and you can quite literally find some of her favorite outfits on display in glass cases at various places throughout the pack. Even more bizarre, the day she died was turned into a pack holiday, as was her birthday. Everyone but pack omegas have both days off from work, school, and training, and there are somber celebrations and remembrances planned to commemorate each occasion. I once made the mistake of asking my parents whether this was a normal reaction to the death of a single she-wolf. We can love and miss her, but to continue to hold large ceremonies every year? And to treat her as a saint and forget that she had a human side too? That seemed a bit too much to me. As far as I know, the pack has never done this for any other luna or future luna, and it only honors 2-3 historical alphas in such a manner. I was rewarded for my questions by being called jealous and hateful. (I also received a significant beating, but beatings had become commonplace from my mother, so I cannot say that my question necessarily triggered the beating I received that day. Plus, the beating hurt far less than what I received before Stephanie died. But for the slight pain and who did the beating, I almost would not have minded.) Overall, I think the worst part of losing Stephanie six years ago wasn't losing Stephanie... it was how losing Stephanie impacted my relationship with my parents and other pack members. Before Stephanie died, I was well aware that Stephanie was my parents' favorite. My older brother Nick and I would even joke about it from time to time. But even though Stephanie was their favorite, they still treated me really well and loved me. They never would have raised a hand to me before Stephanie died. After Stephanie died, however, my parents could barely look at me. And when they did, I saw the unmistakable wish in their eyes that it had been me, not Stephanie, that died that fateful night. In addition, my parents stopped caring about my well-being generally. I lived in their house until I was 17, but I was responsible for my own meals and necessities. I was forced to take on a part-time job at a nearby diner just to ensure I had clothes and food to eat. (I technically could have eaten the food that was available in the packhouse, but the dirty looks and mean comments made by my parents, James, and other pack members were enough to make that an unrealistic option.) Also, in case you are wondering, I have not celebrated a birthday since Stephanie died. Not one single soul other than Rose has bothered to tell me happy birthday. No one even bothered to ask me whether I had received my wolf. That wasn't because birthdays stopped being important; it was just mine whose meaning changed. I attended plenty of birthday parties, and the pack hosted plenty of 14th birthday celebrations. In fact, I think it was because of one of those birthday celebrations that someone finally questioned whether I had received a wolf. It was a legitimate question, given that I was over 14 and never joined a pack run. Rose encouraged me early on to skip them "for safety reasons," and I was all too happy to do so. Had anyone bothered to ask me directly about my wolf or about why I was skipping the pack runs, I would have been honest... but no one ever did. Instead, a rumor spread that I was wolfless. Pack members speculated that I lost my wolf as a result of post-traumatic stress from losing Stephanie and/or guilt for what I had done to Stephanie. That latter theory was the one that really got under my skin, because I knew that was a theory and rumor spread by James. Shortly after Stephanie's funeral, he told my parents and most of the pack that Stephanie was only in the forest that night to save me. He also said I had gone out to meet a boy. I have no idea why he would say such things; I have never had a boyfriend and Stephanie was the one who asked me to meet her in the forest. This rumor was the main reason that I received a beating from my mother the night of my first shift. And it probably adds to the reason that pack members wish me dead. Notably, though, I have never dared to defend myself. To tell the truth would be the equivalent of talking negatively of both Stephanie and our future alpha.... and would likely lead to a death sentence. So instead, I have always just pushed through. One of the ways that I have survived is to hold on to the faith that one day things will be different. Another thing that I have done is take every last opportunity to leave the pack. For example, I hurried through high school so that I could graduate early, and I then went away to college. To avoid coming home, I have been loading up on credit hours and taking every term of school -including the mini winter sessions-- that I can get. I am also taking advantage of a unique expedited program offered just for werewolves doctors. Given all of these things, I actually expect that I can become a fully licensed werewolf doctor in just a couple more years. Until I become fully licensed and independent, I will have to continue to bear the shadow of my sister and the pain that comes with it. I am required to be present for both of her holidays --all pack members are; there are no exceptions-- but thankfully those are among the very few times that I can reliably be found at the Western Mountain pack these days. My ultimate goal is to meet my mate and become a pack doctor in his pack... which I pray to the Moon Goddess is not the Western Mountain pack. If, Goddess forbid, my mate is in this pack, perhaps I can convince him to transfer packs with me. Goddess willing. Tomorrow is my birthday. I guess we will find out then. Chapter 5: Without His Luna (James POV) Tomorrow will mark six years since Stephanie died. Everything and nothing has changed. I still think of Stephanie every single day. Her beautiful smile. Her laugh. The kindness that she showed to pack members. The ethusiam that she showed for her luna training. Stephanie would have been an amazing and strong luna. Had Stephanie lived, we would have been happily married by now. We would probably have already had at least two adorable pups, who would have been doted on by two loving sets of grandparents. Together, Stephanie and I would have been leading the West Mountain Pack to new heights. Of course, Stephanie is no longer here. And without Stephanie… Well, without Stephanie, I am only a fraction of the man that I used to be, and only a fraction of the wolf. Without Stephanie, I am not even Alpha yet. In our world, most alpha heirs take over from their fathers between 25 and 30 years old. That timing ensures that most alphas will have already found their mates before they take over the running of a pack. Running a pack is not easy to do by yourself. Even with a strong beta and a strong gamma, a luna’s importance to a pack cannot be underestimated. A luna brings heart and balance to a pack and to the alpha himself. She is the alpha’s equal, and she is one of the few werewolves in the pack who can get away with challenging and questioning an alpha’s decisions. If she exercises her role properly and judiciously, a luna’s presence can lead to better overall outcomes, decisions, and governing. This is especially true if the luna is the alpha’s fated mate, because it means she takes on her role with the blessing of the Moon Goddess. Alpha heirs who take over their packs prior to turning 25 typically do so either out of necessity, or because they have been fortunate to have been mated very early to a strong luna. Six years ago, when Stephanie was still alive, my father thought we were going to be part of the lucky latter category. He had been very eager to take an early retirement. He and my mother had fantasized about all the European trips and Caribbean cruises that they would take after I was sworn in as alpha, and they had already had tentative plans for at least one of those trips. Of course, all of those plans were ultimately scrapped. Today, I am old enough to take over as alpha, even without a luna by my side… but my father is concerned that I am not mentally strong enough to do so yet. He sees me as broken. My father is probably right. It is a little hard not to feel broken. The reminders of Stephanie are everywhere. Even after six long years, I feel like I cannot escape from the reminders or from my grief, and it is suffocating. The packhouse has practically turned into a mini museum to her, and almost all of the local businesses have some sort of small dedication, whether it be a dedicated drink, food item, picture, or shelf of Stephanie-inspired items. Worse, twice a year, we hold a series of ceremonies and remembrances for Stephanie. As Stephanie’s mate and as the future alpha heir, I am expected to attend every one of them. I want to be there. I know that I should be there. But… It is complete and utter torture. Every day without Stephanie is difficult, but Stephanie’s birthdays and death anniversaries always hit me the hardest. What I want to do more than anything on those two days is be by myself so that I can process my grief. There is a waterfall that I like to go to. If I could, I would spend all day there on both days. The waterfall isn’t exactly hidden, but to find it, you have to go pretty far within the woods and know where to go. As far as I know, I am the only one in our pack who ever goes there. Being at the waterfall brings me comfort; it always has. That is where I want to be when I am grieving or upset. Unfortunately, instead of spending time in the comfort of my waterfall, I have to spend the two hardest days each year out in public with almost 20,000 eyes watching my every move and every reaction. Instead of just… grieving… I have to be conscientious of how every display of emotion can impact and be perceived by the pack members. As I listen to pack members, Stephanie’s parents, and my own parents take turns telling stories about Stephanie and her good deeds, I am expected to somehow strike an impossible balance between sadness and strength. At each of the events, year after year, the remembrances are largely the same. At this point, I practically have the speeches memorized. The speeches usually include stories about how Stephanie would bake cookies and send her sister to deliver them to the guards working the late-night shift on the borders. And stories about how any time anyone was injured in training or at battle, she would not only have her sister deliver care baskets to patients at the hospital, but she would also put one together for any family members separated from them while they were recovering. My parents talk about how eager Stephanie was to take on her position as luna, and how dedicated she was to her training, even working on lessons for hours at home multiple times per week. Stephanie’s parents talk about their prior dreams for their daughter and the hole they continue to feel in their hearts. Nick talks about how family celebrations do not feel the same without Stephanie there, and Jenny talks about wishing that she still had a sister-in-law to bond with and engage in girl talk. The only blessing is that —as the grieving mate— no one expects me to say anything at these events. But that does not spare me from the staring and judgment. If I show too much sadness, pack members worry that I am weak and will not able to be the leader of the pack in the future. If I seem too stoic or show too much “strength,” pack members could perceive me being disrespectful towards Stephanie’s memory. They will also worry that my reign as alpha will lack balance and compassion…. which I already hear whispers about from time to time. Sometimes, I feel angry about the whole thing. I would never, ever expect anyone who has lost their mate to put themselves on a stage multiple times a year and be judged on whether their external grief is appropriate enough. And yet my parents have no problem doing it to me. I tried to push back once, but only once. As you can imagine, it did not go well. I started the conversation by telling my parents that I did not think it was healthy for me to be surrounded by constant reminders of Stephanie, and I told them that I thought the constant remembrances were counterproductive to my mental health. I suggested that we scale back the events, or make them more private affairs. My father got angry and accused me of being selfish. He told me that being uncomfortable and coping with the pressure of judgmental pack members is part of being an alpha. Meanwhile, my mother reminded me that the ceremonies had been Stephanie’s parents’ idea, and she asked me if I wanted to be the one to tell them it was no longer important to celebrate Stephanie’s life. No, of course I did not want to tell Stephanie's parents that. No, I did not want to be selfish. I just wanted --and still want-- to not feel so sad all the time. Six years in, and the only reprieve I ever get from my grief is when the Little Brat is around. She has made herself scarce the last few years, but when she is around, my wolf and I can sense her from a mile away. My wolf and I fight about her all the time --for some reason, Luke seems to have a soft spot for the Little Brat-- but we can agree that it is nice having her around. For me, it's because I have a worthy target for my anger and rage. Chapter 8: Daddy's Girl (Lily POV) The drive to the pack house was eerily silent. After my father and I arrived at the pack house, my father quickly exited the vehicle and headed to his office, leaving me on my own. I timidly and cautiously got into the beta suite, but I was relieved to find that my mother was already in bed. I decided to go directly to my room and try to sleep as well. Unfortunately, I ended up tossing and turning all night. The look on my father's face when talking to the guards continued to haunt me. When I did sleep, I had nightmares. Strangely, Rose seemed restless too, but other than briefly wishing me a happy birthday after it hit midnight, she did not say anything. I think the main thing that provoked my nightmares and kept me up was that my heart ached for my father. I knew that I wanted to help him with his pain and ease his suffering, but I was not sure what I could do or say to make things better. It has already been six years. If time has not helped heal his heart, what could I do? The truth is, I am not Stephanie and I never will be. The only thing I have ever known how to do for my father is to try to stay out of his way. At least for my mother, I can serve as a literal punching bag to help her relieve her grief. And for others in the pack, I can serve as both a literal and metaphorical punching bag. But, I am nothing to my father: my father has neglected me and ignored the sufferings I went through, but he has never directly participated in any of them. Perhaps that is one reason his pain upsets me more than the pain of everyone else. He is the least awful amongst my current tormentors, and I can sometimes lie to myself that he does not know or agree with how much I have suffered. I know that it probably seems strange that my heart aches for him at all, given that he is someone who, for the most part, could care less about me. However, please understand that for my own sanity, I have chosen to remember and hold on to the good times in my childhood. Of course, there is also the fact that... regardless of how my father currently feels about me... I have always been --and will probably always be-- a daddy's girl. It is just part of who I am. Since I was in diapers, I have looked up to my father and considered him to be my superhero. Before Stephanie died, I never saw an ounce of weakness in him. He was my strength and my rock. I always had an strong desire to make him proud of me. He was always the first one I ran to when I got a good grade on a test, or when I drew a picture I thought he might like. And ...before Stephanie died... he was always the first one to dry my tears when I got hurt or to give me reassuring praise when I felt down. Even though I knew Stephanie was his favorite... even though I knew Stephanie's accomplishments would always be greater, and that he would always be more proud of her... those little things mattered to me. I lived for those moments. Sigh. By 5:30 am, I gave up on any hope of further sleep. Stephanie's first remembrance event was not scheduled until 11 am, so I knew I had a little bit of time. Eager to take advantage of that time and also avoid my mother, I took a quick shower, packed a small backpack, and headed out of the house. Predictably, my feet led me to the waterfall that I had shifted in front of six years ago. I have come here at least twice a year since Stephanie died, usually on her birthday and death anniversary. The waterfall brings me an odd sense of peace. As beautiful as it is, I do not know anyone else who comes here. Perhaps that is why I like it so much. I sighed. "It is easy to tell myself that when I am away from the pack and not having to cope with the consequences. It is a lot harder to believe that I am blameless when everyone around me is crying and upset all the time. You saw my dad last night. That nearly broke me. He is still hurting so much." "That does not make any of it your fault," Rose protests. "Rose, the day before Stephanie died, I prayed that the Moon Goddess stop Stephanie from continuing to hurt me." "She was not hurting you, Lily. She was torturing you. There is nothing wrong with you praying that it stop." "There is if it cost Stephanie her life." "Lily, you are not giving the Moon Goddess enough credit. You are smarter and stronger than this. You need to stop with the emotional vomit and ---" Suddenly Rose stops talking through the link. She is pacing back in forth in my head. I have no idea what is going on, until the overwhelming scent of vanilla and coffee beans hits my nose. "Mate! Lily, our mate is here! Mate, mate, mate, mate, mate!!!" I stand, dust the ashes off of my jeans, and turn around. My heart drops when I recognize the werewolf standing about 200 feet away from me. This has to be a joke. This cannot be happening.	LEARN_MORE	https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&u	Massive story	https://www.facebook.com/61560932294131/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	getokn.com	DCO		https://getokn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=10745&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448916543_502070082268628_4383741934976369995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BA-KoieDykQQ7kNvgFDcyAA&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AlJuqIgXYCCXfKWCZyCvzcE&oh=00_AYBIp_cFhrNCecoKen0YSLSbUKWR_II2YLmAMJy9l8MHDQ&oe=67040390	PERSON_PROFILE	Massive story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
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2,065,022	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065020}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,065,025	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065020}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	20	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449519236_1046539403757177_3822833957968181908_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=mF-NzCMEJdMQ7kNvgEgEWH9&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AyMHDRGmg0rJgERZqpn-EXV&oh=00_AYBCJMC06lRyzNdcyWz91UcO0LZfwkRbHlyTpMLInZGZxQ&oe=670428A6	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,023	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065020}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,065,029	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065020}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	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2,065,036	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	No	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453179940_1975169659583049_5683424097736557035_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=z-OaqemlLoMQ7kNvgFxo4My&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AyMHDRGmg0rJgERZqpn-EXV&oh=00_AYCV_0-FBNQ3TgNcRsShVOC_h3bA9lYy4eVCW2ft7m0Xmg&oe=670411DF	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,035	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065494}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	The day I was kidnapped and suffered torture, my husband was busy cheating with another woman... When I opened my eyes, I knew I was done. My brother had really sold me off to this border town, only to cover his own gambling debts... I freightenedly fought back when a few disgusting man approached me about to tear my dress off, only to receive relentless beating. "Please no! Let me call my husband. He is very rich!" I screamed uncontrollably. The leader Ken finally halted his men, looking interested. With that, he flung a phone to me. "20 million dollars. Anything less than that," He smirked as his lusty eyes glued on me, "you'll have to serve us all before selling your body for us." 20 million...a shiver ran down my spine as I shook from terror. I married Nathan only a month ago. Would he be willing to sacrifice that much money for me? "I see," my voice trembled. At this point, Nathan was my last hope. I dialed his number with shaking hands. Luckily it was picked up soon, but a woman's voice came from that end. "Hi? Who's that?" My heart sank that instant, but I carried on pleading. "I'm Suzanne, Nathan Morrison's wife. Please pass the phone -." "He's not available..." "Who is it, Sally? Come back to bed..." Just then, Nathan's gentle voice came from the background. "Just a scam call." Sally ended the call hurriedly. Immediately, laughter burst out around me. "Your husband is busy with his sweetheart. Stop daydreaming, woman!" I slowly closed my eyes. A sharp pang cut through my heart. Suddenly, one men asked Ken nervously, "Say, about the name she said earlier. Her husband can't be the leader of Norvanian military, can he?" "Impossible. No idiot would dare to sell Nathan Morrison's wife. Besides, from what I know, he's still single." Ken stated confidently. I smiled bitterly in my heart. Everyone here knew Nathan Morrison - the most legendary name in military, but who would believe I, the woman now humiliated like trash, was actually his newlywed wife... "30 minutes. You only have 30 more minutes. Get us 20 million, or you'll beg under the crotch of us all!" Ken roared at me. The men surrounding me were like drooling vultures, counting down on my final moment... I slumped into the corner in despair... -- BOOM! Some time passed before a deafening boom suddenly resounded, shaking the ground. Someone from outside cried, terrified, "Boss! Someone blasted our gate apart!" I shuddered and opened my eyes...	LEARN_MORE	https://theryfhvn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1102	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	theryfhvn.com	IMAGE	😍Read the next chapters👉	https://theryfhvn.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=11024&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/t39.35426-6/452193508_1601482010423403_4576472150053066165_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=kxzFVj-XL3oQ7kNvgFLfEWv&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AyMHDRGmg0rJgERZqpn-EXV&oh=00_AYBsDVoASmlXxwcZKYz81TBcf1D1T-gbwqQcIfcVeLelnA&oe=670402F3	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,043	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065044}'	No	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Two years of marriage, and I'd never set foot in my husband Elijah's office. Today was the first time I went to his company. After all this time, why was I suddenly entrusted to deliver these important documents? Could it be possible that they’re finally learning to accept me? Taking a deep breath, I gently placed my hand on my stomach. The emptiness from losing my baby lingered, even though it had been a long time since that accident. I still felt lost and fragile, wishing for solace that never came. I missed my husband's presence, longing for a comforting word or touch. But he and his family remained distant and uninvolved, leaving me to recover on my own. Now, I was about to step into Elijah’s world — his beloved company. My heart skipped a beat as I entered Elijah's large, elegant office. The room was tastefully decorated, with rich mahogany furniture and a large sign that said Sinclair Realty Group. But what made me stop in my tracks was the sight of my husband huddled with an attractive blonde over some papers. Their shoulders were touching, their cheeks almost brushing against each other. What is going on? I thought in alarm. Suddenly, the woman whispered something in Elijah’s ear while she gently laid her perfectly manicured hands on his arm. My heart jumped. I heard a loud thud on the floor and realized I’d dropped the folder I was holding. They both looked up, startled. And that’s when my gaze locked with that of the woman. I felt a shudder creeping through my skin. Serena Foster! She used to be a classmate of ours at Fairview University. She also happened to be Elijah’s ex-girlfriend. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. So this is why my evil mother-in-law asked me to deliver this document! Morgana had probably known that Serena was here now. My husband rose from his chair, abruptly pulling away from Serena who was throwing me daggers with her eyes. “You remember Serena, right? She works here now.” I nodded, my heart leaping into my throat and my thoughts raging in a storm. They’re just colleagues, nothing else, I thought, but not with full conviction. Elijah wouldn’t cheat on me, would he? All this time, I’d remained hopeful that he could still fall in love with me. But now, with Serena in the picture, time might just be running out for us. “So why are you here?” Elijah asked, a frown creasing his brow. “Your mom asked me to deliver this,” I explained, hastily picking up the folder and handing it to him. Then narrowing my eyes at Serena, I waited for him to explain why they were working closely, or to at least introduce me as his wife. But much to my dismay, he didn’t. It felt as though my heart was being squeezed tightly, as it dawned on me that he’d never really introduced me to anyone as his wife. Ever. “Sophia, you look shaken up. Didn’t you know Elijah hired me to work here?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Apparently, we make a great team. Funny, I don’t recall seeing you here before.” She was purposely rubbing it in my face, and I wanted to slap that smile away from her face. She then added, “Oh, right, you don’t know anything about business. You might just mess things up.” “I take care of our home,” I said bitterly, looking down on the floor for a bit. I felt belittled, and my husband couldn’t even defend me. Serena looked at me with disbelief and laughed. Just then, Elijah said, “Next time, Sophia, just contact me and I’ll have my assistant come over.” "Fine," I murmured, my voice barely audible, wishing the ground would swallow me up. The weight of hurt and embarrassment pressed down on me, crushing my spirit. My heart thudded as I blinked back tears. He doesn't want me here. Suddenly, Elijah’s secretary came in. “Alice, please prepare coffee for the ladies,” he instructed. “Just black for Serena. No sugar.” Serena’s eyes lit up. “Hey, you remembered!” she exclaimed, obviously delighted. Elijah nodded at her. “Of course.” I watched the exchange with a sinking feeling in my heart. Serena gave me a smug look as if she was reveling in some secret victory. I couldn’t help but feel more depressed. Here was my husband, effortlessly remembering Serena's coffee preferences, yet he couldn't recall something as simple as my allergy to caffeine. “Join us, Sophia,” Serena invited with a devilish grin. “Just like how we used to hang out together in college.” I struggled to contain my emotions, not wanting to break down in front of them. “I have to go,” I managed to say, my voice slightly cracking. “I’ll see you at home.” Elijah’s expression remained unchanged, and my heart felt heavy with the realization of how little I meant to him. The way he treated me had only gotten worse after losing my baby. What did you expect? a small voice hissed in my head. He only married you because he got you to have a baby. You’re the one who keeps hoping he’ll eventually fall for you. As his assistant Connor Hayes drove me home, I thought about how my husband’s mother Morgana had begun ignoring me after I lost the baby. Then one day, she started talking to me again, only to treat me like a housemaid. I fought back tears as the heaviness in my heart escalated. My marriage was falling apart so fast that I couldn’t seem to catch up. When we pulled up the spacious driveway of the Sinclair mansion, a feeling of dread and loneliness engulfed me. I’m back in this prison. Trapped. Helpless. I want to escape this prison! I screamed in my head, glad that Morgana was nowhere to be found. Yet. Running to my room and throwing myself on my bed, sobs wracked my body. And as I cried my eyes out, I felt something with my hand that made me sit up. A small portion of a brown envelope was peeking from under the pillow. My heart tightened, and more tears filled my eyes. I knew exactly what it contained — the papers I’d prepared before. I pulled them out and stared at the title that blurred before my teary eyes. It read: Divorce Agreement. CHAPTER 2 The divorce agreement was written after I accidentally lost my baby. During that time, I couldn’t even look at Elijah’s face without thinking about our baby. The pain was unbearable, so I believed divorce was my salvation. Looking back, preparing the divorce agreement was not a mistake, now that leaving was my only option. My hands shook as I held the papers in my hand. I could hear Morgana’s voice outside. “Sophia!” she called in a sharp tone. She probably heard me come in and was now wondering where I was. Quickly, I hid the divorce agreement and washed my face in the bathroom. That’s when the door swung open. I dried my face with a towel and looked at my mother-in-law. She responded with a cold gaze. She immediately instructed me to do the housework, her tone full of disdain. As I began my chores, she stood there taunting me. “Elijah told me not to ask you to deliver things in the future,” she said with a scoff. “You can’t even be relied on for such a simple task.” Her words cut deep. “When you first came to our house carrying a baby in your belly, it was okay that you couldn't do anything,” she continued. “Then you had lost your baby and you had to spend months recovering and regaining your health. Now you can't even deliver a document, so what's the meaning for Elijah of having you as a wife?" Her words were like daggers, each one piercing my heart. And then, in a cruel twist, she added, “My son would be better off with Serena. She's prettier, smarter, and she even managed to land a job at his company! Unlike you... You can't even perform simple housework that well.” Sure enough, she already knew that Serena worked at Elijah's company. She asked me to deliver the papers today just to make a fool of me. The room felt suffocating, the burden of her words pressing down on me. I felt utterly alone, realizing that no one had ever been on my side. I clenched my fists, struggling against the wave of tears threatening to spill. Sweeping the floor became a mechanical task, a facade to hide my turmoil. The repeated humiliations and frustrations drained me of the energy to fight back or explain myself yet again. I don’t deserve this, I thought sourly. It’s time for me to escape, to save myself. With bitter tears streaming down my cheeks, I rushed to my room and grabbed the papers I’d hidden. Staring at me from the front page were the words: Divorce Agreement. I’ve had enough. Flashbacks of how Elijah and Morgana had been treating me filled my mind. Despite my efforts to be the dutiful wife and daughter-in-law, I’d always seemed invisible to them. I’ve been obedient, helpful, and hardworking… But no one cares. Not even my own husband. I’m nothing to him. He doesn’t love me and he never learned to. That’s the most painful of all. My heart tightened. His indifference cut deeper than any overt cruelty could. And now, with Serena back in the picture, their attention gravitated toward her. I felt more isolated than ever. This is the last straw! I must get out of here, or I’ll lose my sanity! That evening, I hadn’t realized I’d already fallen asleep when I heard the bedroom door open. Something made a loud, clattering noise. I quickly sat up and saw Elijah staggering toward me. He mumbled something about a dinner party as he plopped on the bed and started sliding his fingers down my bare arm. I hastily moved backward, giving him a look of disbelief. He was obviously drunk. If he wasn’t, he would have just ignored me and gone straight to bed. “Hey, playing hard to get, aren’t you?” he said in a slurred manner, his bloodshot eyes becoming more intense. Then without warning, he leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I didn’t have time to react, though, because he suddenly started unbuttoning my oversized nightshirt. “When did Serena start working at your company?” I asked him coldly. He shrugged, but didn’t stop what he was doing. “Not sure. Probably recruited by HR.” His lips traveled down and then his tongue followed. Finally, the last button on my sleep pajama surrendered. “Serena is such a talented addition to our team,” he remarked with admiration. As I reminisced about the scene I witnessed at the company, my husband and his ex-girlfriend Serena were closely nestled together, sharing laughter and conversation. But I couldn't muster the courage to confront her and ask her to keep her distance from him. Jealousy and pain gripped my chest. I couldn’t believe he was saying all this while undressing me! I knew then that he still had feelings for her. “You know,” he said, oblivious to my disappointment, “she's even outperforming many of the senior colleagues who've been with the company for years.” Even as we locked eyes, there was something in his gaze—a kind of infatuation—that he never seemed to exhibit when it came to me. He’s probably picturing me as her! I thought with disgust. I was so disappointed in him, and didn’t want him anywhere near me. But when I pulled away, he threw me an irritated look. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, taken aback that I was saying no to his advances unlike before. I didn’t answer. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve been down in the dumps for months now! I thought you’d snap out of it, but you’ve only gotten worse. It’s depressing to even see you.” I cringed at his words, the searing pain crushing my heart. He couldn’t even see how my spirit was being shattered because of him. “Maybe it’s because of the baby we lost…” he mused. Sliding his fingers down the surface of my cheek and then my neck, he added in a drunken slur, “Why don’t we just make another baby?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I knew that whenever he was drunk, he spoke without inhibitions. He was often brutally honest in this state. Hence, he meant every word and that only showed how much he didn’t understand me or the problem we had in this marriage. My whole body was shaking as the misery and fury I’ve been keeping inside rose to the surface. He doesn’t get it. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. I was totally pissed off. And that’s when I blurted it out. “I want to divorce you.” CHAPTER 3 I could sense his mind reeling from the unexpected news. He opened his mouth as if to say something. I expected him to respond, to react, to ask questions. Anything at all! But he never said anything. My heart thumped hard as we gazed at one another — strangers who’d been forced to live together. I had tried so hard to make this marriage work even after we had lost the baby. But it takes two to succeed at this, I realized. “I want a divorce,” I repeated, keeping my voice steady. “I’m serious.” Slowly he nodded. “Yes, sure,” he answered before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom. My heart felt like it was about to explode. I pulled my open shirt around me, desperately covering myself up, as I coiled into a fetal position with my head throbbing. A tear dropped down my cheek, and I quickly brushed it away. This is it. I’m going to be free. And yet somehow, I didn’t feel that ecstatic. His reaction only confirmed my worst suspicions. Now I know the truth — he never loved me at all. He’s not even upset about the divorce! I sighed. It’s time for me to move on. The next day, after eating breakfast on my own, I mustered up all my courage and called Elijah to the study. “We should sign this,” I said without any emotion, showing him the divorce papers. He sat on the sofa across from me, looking at me quietly. His gaze always made me feel a little nervous, but today was different. I signed the papers and urged him to do the same. “Elijah, please,” I whispered, making sure my voice wouldn’t break. “Let's end this.” His face contorted in a horrible expression as he ruthlessly grabbed the agreement from me. But he didn’t sign immediately. He took a long time going over each page while I waited impatiently. Then his phone suddenly rang. I saw it light up with Serena’s name, making my heart tighten. I can’t believe this woman’s timing! But Elijah only glanced at it before returning to reviewing the papers. Perhaps he didn’t want to answer it because I was in the room with him. A myriad of emotions threatened to engulf me. I stood up and positioned myself in front of him with my arms crossed against my heart. “Why don’t you just hurry up and sign those so you can get going? Someone might be waiting for you in the office.” He glanced at me warily, then took out his pen and signed everything. With an angry grunt, he threw the papers down on the sofa and stormed out of the room. Watching him go, I was filled with overwhelming feelings — relief, frustration, anger, sadness. “I’m finally free,” I murmured to myself incredulously. While I was packing my bags in the bedroom, Morgana suddenly charged inside. In her usual bossy voice, she said, “The morning’s almost over, Sophia! Go do the laundry now.” With a sarcastic huff, I turned around to face her. “Sorry, but Elijah and I just signed a divorce agreement. I will no longer do any housework for you.” Her face reddened in anger. I could almost see steam coming out of her ears as she crossed her arms on her pit and scolded me angrily. "You married into our family for two years, no children, and now you want a divorce," she spat out bitterly. I scoffed, not bothering to respond. It doesn’t matter anymore. I can finally ignore her completely! But then, almost as quickly as her anger had surfaced, her mood changed. “You know what? It's actually quite nice,” she said, her tone almost mocking. “Elijah can finally marry someone better, like Serina. Every single day that I see you hanging your head in despair, it just makes my blood boil. Anyone would make a better wife than you!” Her words infuriated me. I wanted to slap away that haughty look on her face, but it would just be a waste of energy. I’m done here. I’m done with all this. Suddenly, memories flooded back of a time when Morgana had shown kindness, especially during my pregnancy with her grandchild. She had been caring and considerate. However, after I lost my baby, her demeanor changed drastically. She began treating me like a mere servant rather than a member of the family. I could never understand why she became so hostile all of a sudden. Sometimes I wondered if it had more to do with herself than with me. That afternoon, I went home to where I grew up. As I settled in, I felt relieved that at least I had a place I could call my own. “Luckily I hadn’t sold it,” I muttered, looking around the living room and remembering my adoptive father. This house is the only connection I have left with him. Night swept in quickly. I was worn out and exhausted. Climbing onto my old bed, I was ready to relax when I received a message from my best friend Kayla. It showed a secretly taken photo of Elijah and Serena in a club, sitting intimately close and laughing together. A chill ran down my spine as I read the angry message from Kayla: That Elijah! You have no idea what I saw! Elijah was out partying and flirting with that Serena, which he never did with you! My heart sank, anger and sadness clouded my mind as I realized he was indeed getting back together with Serena and flaunting her around. Forcing back my tears, I told Kayla: It’s over between me and Elijah. We were divorced. CHAPTER 4 “Aaarrgghh! I so hate that guy for doing this to you!” Kayla hissed. “If I had known he’d treat you like that, I wouldn’t have allowed you to even come near him during our grad celebration! And I wouldn’t have kept pushing you to hook up with him, no matter how gorgeous he was!” Being the daughter of Raven Media’s renowned CEO, Kayla Davis always hung out with high society. She saw Elijah a lot at parties since they belonged to the same circle. We also all happened to attend Fairview University where Kayla and I had majored in Interior Design. Hence, she not only knew Elijah but Serena too. “You should have seen them at the party last night!” she cried out, causing some people to give us a dirty look. Lowering her voice, she leaned forward with a repulsed look. “They didn’t even care that I was there! They were just… Aaahhh! I really couldn’t take it, so I went over there and gave them a piece of my mind. I told them they ought to be ashamed of themselves!” “Oh, wow,” I uttered in disbelief. “But it’s over now, Kayla. I’m doing my best to move on.” Kayla was still fuming. But then, she eventually smiled and leaned over to squeeze my hands. “I’m always here for you, Sophia. You know that.” “Thanks so much. I’m really grateful to have someone who really cares about me,” I responded with a fluttering heart. “Well, you’ve always had my back even in high school. So now it’s my turn to return the favor.” Kayla and I became best friends during our freshman year in high school. We came to know each other well when we first worked on an art project together. We’d hit it off at once, and the rest was history. “Anyway, I can see that Elijah never loved you and he doesn’t deserve you, Sophia,” she went on. “So what are you planning now?” “Well, I’ve been giving it some thought…” I began, suddenly feeling excited for the future. “A few weeks ago, I applied for this postgraduate program at Goldwell Institute of Art in France—” “You did not!” she interrupted me, her lips turning up into a huge grin. Suddenly, she jumped up from her seat and gave me a hug. “This will surely be your big break!” I laughed. “I haven’t been accepted yet, you know.” “Oh, but you will be!” Kayla’s enthusiasm was so contagious that I could already picture myself studying there, exploring France, and enjoying myself. But then, my mood suddenly changed again when I heard my phone ringing and saw Elijah’s name popping up on the screen. I froze up. Kayla’s eyes narrowed when she saw it too. “Go ahead and answer it. See what he has to say.” As soon as I accepted the call, I heard Elijah’s sharp tone of voice on the other end. “You filed for our divorce, and now your family wants cash from me?! Unbelievable!” “Wait, what do you mean?” “You know I’m busy in the office, then here comes your brother with another excuse for needing financial help! He had the nerve to barge into the conference room and disrupt our meeting!” Elijah railed angrily. I felt mortified and helpless. “I’ll talk to Troy.” “Good. Make sure he doesn’t come back again ever.” Then he hung up. I was so shocked that I couldn’t speak for a while. My family's constant demands for cash had reached a tipping point. No matter how many times I tried to set boundaries, they continued to use me and interrupt Elijah. It felt like I had no control over the situation, and it was greatly upsetting. “Sorry I have to go now, Kayla,” I said, bravely deciding to act immediately. She nodded in understanding and we said goodbye. I immediately rushed to the house where my adoptive mother and brother had moved to after my adoptive father Tom Bennett passed away. He’d left me the original house where he’d taken care of me like his real own child. But the rest of the inheritance had been taken by his wife and son. They’d bought a bigger house and I never heard from them again. Not until they learned of my marrying a wealthy man in the famous Sinclair clan. Brenda was certainly not pleased to hear what I had to say. “What did you say?! You divorced Elijah, the billionaire CEO of Sinclair Realty Group?!! Are you out of your mind?!!” Behind her, my brother Troy looked as if he wanted to punch the wall. “It was never going to work out,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. “Just please stop bothering him. We’ve cut our ties. You can’t ask for anything from him anymore.” “Oh, man!” Troy exclaimed with frustration. Two years ago, after I married Elijah, Brenda and Troy came back and pretended like we were a tight-knit family. At first, Elijah was kind and understanding of their needs. But when he noticed how abusive they had become, always asking for financial support, he became impatient and angry. One time, they even borrowed cash in my name and never paid it back. It had become one of the reasons why Morgana was so angry with me. “Did you fight? Maybe you can still fix it!” Brenda said, looking desperate. Troy scoffed. “When I went to his office, I saw him talking to this beautiful, sexy blonde. I’m guessing there’s a third party involved! People who don’t know better would think that woman is his wife!” CHAPTER 5 My heart felt like it would explode any time now. “It doesn’t matter,” I eventually said to Troy. “It’s none of my business now. I don’t care what he does with that woman or with whomever.” Then staring hard at him and my foster mother, I said sharply, “We’re definitely not getting back together, so the two of you should just stop going to him for anything! Just stop!” “But…” Brenda began to protest. I raised my hand to stop her. “Elijah and I are over. Besides, I’ll soon move to France and study there. And since you only contacted me again because of Elijah’s wealth, then now you won’t have any more need for me, right?” They were both shocked at my words because I had never spoken like that in the past. But it was time for me to step up and put myself first for once. “All thing that you swindled out of my ex-husband’s pocket, consider it as your payment for raising me,” I went on in a steady voice. “We don’t have to see or talk to each other ever again.” On the way home, I began to feel a migraine coming. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples as I sat in the back seat of a cab. All of this drama’s taking a toll on me, I guess. But as I neared the house, I felt increasingly queasy and unwell. I realized my health hadn’t fully recovered since the loss. “Could you please take me to the hospital?” I asked the driver, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising nausea. He nodded and quickly changed course, navigating toward the nearest medical facility. The ride felt endless, each bump in the road exacerbating my discomfort. By the time we arrived, I could barely contain the churning in my stomach. I burst through the hospital doors, a wave of dizziness threatening to overwhelm me. My vision blurred, and I stumbled forward, nearly colliding with a figure in front of me. Before I could hit the ground, strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me. Gasping for breath, I looked up and found myself staring into the concerned eyes of a very handsome and familiar-looking man. “Are you okay? You look like you're about to faint,” he said, his brows furrowed with worry. With our eyes locked on each other, before I could even reply, a look of recognition crossed his features. “Oh, wait! It’s you. Sophia Bennett from Green Valley High, right?” I was surprised, looking at him closely. His features reminded me of someone I knew a long way back. “Uh, Daniel?” I eventually said, recalling his name. We had gone to the same high school, but he was a year older than me. “Yes, yes. Wait, let me bring you to our family doctor. You look really pale.” I felt too sick to pretend I was fine, so I just let him lead me through the corridor and into one of the clinics. He quickly introduced me to the doctor whom he seemed to know well. As the doctor greeted me, concern etched across his face, I explained how I'd been feeling. He listened attentively, nodding as I spoke. After a brief discussion, he led me to an examination room, asking Daniel to wait outside. The examination was thorough, and I appreciated the doctor's calming demeanor. Afterward, he suggested some basic tests to determine the cause of my symptoms. “How are you feeling now?” Daniel asked kindly once I sat down beside him in the waiting area. “A little better, but still kinda dizzy,” I answered honestly. “Thanks for the assistance, but it’s okay if you have somewhere to be. You’ve already done too much for me.” “Oh, it’s okay,” he said with a smile. “Unless you don’t want me here.” “It’s nothing like that, of course!” I quickly replied. “Thanks for accompanying me. It feels good to have someone to talk to while I’m here.” “Well, I’m all ears. People say I’m a good listener.” I beamed at him, his presence a comforting anchor in the sterile hospital environment. Chuckling, I said, “I don’t really know you, Daniel…” “You know my name. That’s a start.” His grin seemed to brighten up the surroundings, and I just felt immediately comfortable with him. I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and trust wash over me. We hadn't been close in high school, but something about his calm demeanor and genuine concern made me want to open up. “I remember… Daniel Pierce…” I began, smiling. I could feel my headache and nausea diminishing. “High school jock, but a bit geeky and always at the top of the class.” He laughed. “You’ve got a good memory, Sophia Bennett. I remember you too — the smart, quiet, very talented artist whom all the boys noticed but never had the nerve to approach.” I laughed too at his astonishing description of me. “You’re joking!” “No, it’s true… Really! I’m sure you’ve managed to get yourself a very good-looking husband. Let me guess, a CEO?” He was kidding, but hitting close to home made me frown as I remembered Elijah. “Good-looking, yes. CEO, yes. But husband? Not anymore.” “Oh.” His expression changed immediately. “I’m sorry to hear that.” “You know, it's been a rough few months,” I began tentatively, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “I'm actually going through a divorce, and my family... they keep asking for cash from my ex-husband, which just complicates things even more.” Daniel's expression shifted to one of empathy, and he nodded, encouraging me to continue. “And then I lost my baby...It's been tough, physically and emotionally. I just feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, you know?” He nodded in understanding. “I’m so sorry to hear all that, Sophia. But you seem like a really strong woman. I’m sure you can get back on your feet in no time. Usually, it helps to be in a change of environment. Have you considered that?” “Yeah, starting anew in a foreign land,” I answered, thinking about my application in France. “Hmm… sounds like a pretty bold move," Daniel remarked, his eyes reflecting admiration and amusement at the same time. “It takes courage to make such a big change.” I smiled weakly. “Actually, I've applied for graduate studies in France. It's something I've always wanted to do.” Daniel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? That's incredible! I recently got accepted at the Goldwell Business School in Paris…” My jaw dropped. “What? I’m planning to go to the Goldwell Institute of Art!” He looked at me with astonishment. “What are the odds, huh? Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other. Those institutions share practically the same campus.” I couldn't believe the coincidence, though I was still feeling down. “That’s really… something else.” “Surely you’ll get in. Where do you plan to stay in Paris?” “The Latin Quarter, of course. I’m looking at an apartment there, since it’s where most students live.” Daniel chuckled. “And it looks like we’ll be neighbors too. I think we were meant to cross paths again right now, right here.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Who knows? Maybe we’re destined to explore France together! When you book your plane ticket, let me know. Let’s fly together. I mean, if that’s alright with you?” His offer warmed my heart, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you, Daniel…” Suddenly, I heard my name being called by the assistant, motioning for me to come back into the clinic. “Miss Sophia Bennett?” she informed me. “Your test results are here.” CHAPTER 6 Daniel followed me into the doctor's office, providing support. The doctor smiled warmly at us, his expression giving nothing away. “Well, Sophia,” he began, his tone measured, “the results are in. Congratulations to you both.” I felt a rush of confusion and disbelief. “You’re going to be parents. Congratulations!” the doctor added. I’m… pregnant?! How could that be? My last baby had left me only months ago. Even I just signed divorce papers with Elijah, and now I'm carrying his child? The room spun around me as embarrassment flooded my cheeks. Probably because he was mistaken for the baby's father, Daniel looked surprised but did not contradict the doctor. “Other than that, you’re perfectly healthy, Sophia,” the doctor assured me. He went on to discuss some things with Daniel, but I hardly heard them talking. My heart pounded crazily, and my mind felt fuzzy. Once again, I felt like I was caught up in a weird dream. None of it was real. Daniel was quiet as we left the hospital. I didn’t know what to say either. “Let me drive you home, Sophia,” he offered once we were outside. His eyes were filled with concern for me. I was just too tired and confused to say no, so I simply nodded. He did not ask any questions, and I was glad. What am I going to do? I asked myself in silence while in the car, feeling the panic rising in my throat. This is the worst timing ever. Elijah and I just got divorced, and I’m supposed to have a whole new life ahead of me. Anxiety took over me. Everything was about to change again. If I have this baby, it won’t have a father, I thought bitterly. And how can I take care of it on my own while living in a different country where I don’t have anyone to help me? My hand moved toward my tummy. There was no baby bump yet, but knowing that there was a little one growing inside gave me chills. Suddenly, I remembered how painful it had been to lose my baby before. This is a blessing, a second chance for me to become a mother. Would I want to risk losing another baby? Slowly I began to calm down. I took deep breaths until my head began to clear. This is a miracle, I told myself. I should be grateful. As I rubbed my belly, I spoke in my mind. I’m so sorry, baby. It’s just all too sudden. But I know that I’m going to take care of you and love you with all my heart. Days flew by, bringing a welcomed calm without Elijah, Brenda, and Troy in the picture. However, internally, I remained in turmoil. Then, the news I had been eagerly awaiting arrived—I had been accepted into my dream university to study art and design once more! Despite the uncertainty of juggling studies with a baby, I couldn't let this opportunity slip away. In just a week’s time, I found myself waving goodbye to Kayla at the airport. “Call me when you get there!” she said, her eyes gleaming with tears. It was the first time we would be apart for a long time, and we were like sisters. As I settled into my seat on the airplane, bound for Paris, excitement and nervousness mingled within me. The prospect of starting a new life in a different country threatened to overwhelm my senses. The plane began its ascent, lifting off the ground. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. Beside me, Daniel sensed my unease and reached over, gently squeezing my hand. “Everything will be okay,” he reassured me. “I'm here. We'll do this together.” His words were a comforting balm to my anxious soul, and I found great comfort in his presence. As we chatted throughout the plane ride, ate together, fell asleep, and then chatted some more, I began to relax and come to terms with the situation. I can do this, I thought with more confidence. Then touching my tummy, I silently whispered, You’re my lucky charm, my baby. By the time we landed safely, Daniel and I were like old buddies. I was truly grateful that he was with me. As the cab wound through Paris, iconic landmarks flashed past—the Eiffel Tower dominating the skyline, the majestic Louvre in the distance, and quaint streets bustling with cafes and shops. Despite my worries, the beauty of the city had me momentarily elated, filling me with a sense of excitement and wonder. Beside me, Daniel seemed entranced, his eyes wide with wonder. Soon, we were unloading my bags at my new apartment. It was semi-furnished, and I was immediately drawn to the light blue walls and the inviting white sofa. But my favorite part of all was the large window that gave me a fantastic view of the busy city street below. This was it—the start of my new life in Paris. I turned to Daniel, who was looking around the apartment with a satisfied smile. “Looks like you've got yourself a nice little place here,” he remarked, glancing back at me. "Yeah, I think I'm going to like it here," I replied. Daniel chuckled. “Just remember to take it easy, okay? You've had a long journey.” I rolled my eyes. “I'm fine, Daniel. I'm not going to keel over from exhaustion.” He raised an eyebrow, and then grinned. “I'm just saying, you’ll be too heavy for me to carry if you collapse!” I threw the throw pillow at him jokingly. “Oh, shut up.” We both laughed. He added, “You need to get some beauty sleep, Sophia. I'm sure you'll want to look your best when you meet your new classmates.” “Oh, so now you're concerned about my appearance?” Daniel grinned. “Hey, a little rest never hurt anyone. And who knows, maybe you'll meet a cute French guy who'll sweep you off your feet.” I playfully nudged him. “I think I'll pass on that, thank you very much. I'm here to focus on my studies, not my love life.” He appeared pleased with that statement. “Fair enough,” he answered with a teasing smile. “But you never know what could happen. Paris is the city of love, after all.” I felt a little flutter in my heart, wondering if I could learn to look at him as more than a friend. Perhaps it's more accurate to say he's akin to a brother rather than just a friend. The assistance he's provided far exceeds anything I've received from Elijah in years. Sighing, I went over to my bags. “Come on, just help me unpack already so we can check out your apartment next.” As we were unpacking, my phone rang. I figured it was Kayla so I asked Daniel to answer it, showing him that my hands were full at the moment. “Hello?” I heard Daniel say. He put the call on speaker mode. “Who the hell is this? Where's Sophia?” a very familiar male voice demanded, his tone aggressive and impatient. My heart felt like it had just plummeted to the ground. I felt my whole body trembling when Daniel handed the phone to me. I didn't have to hold the phone to my ear to hear Elijah's furious growling, "Sophia, YOU CAN'T just walk away like this! Where the hell are you now?! Without my permission, you are not allowed to go anywh...." I pressed the button to end the call without hearing his entire words, calming my quivering heart with a big and deep breath. It's true that Elijah has never been very considerate or tender with me, but he hasn't really stepped on me rudely either. It's just that lately, he's been indifferent to me. Anyway, he'd never been as emotionally cranky as he was now. Did my leaving make him care? No, don't be silly, Sophia, he can be with Serena again now. He's free. How do you expect that he would care about you, a woman he had never loved? Daniel noticed my paradoxical anxiety. "Who is he?" Daniel inquired. But I could see in his eyes that he clearly knew the answer to that question. I sighed, "My husband. No, ex-husband."	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2,065,040	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&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/t39.35426-6/453253291_504212825595877_5669779482606431335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sFR9Jowr24YQ7kNvgECFYb_&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aa0TmyNPCRJzMXXftwoLOAI&oh=00_AYA7RmURiPZnAkWm5445IOkbE2TcHprgI5ezuwaK4-sM1A&oe=670409B7	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,039	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453158771_1197625834758751_7383270717958630073_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=S5gwKxnzumYQ7kNvgGmsTQO&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aa0TmyNPCRJzMXXftwoLOAI&oh=00_AYDFzGq2_mpBLsOK0yvBBf57Dq3syLrsVlGt4WzNLfq3TA&oe=6703F85D	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,042	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/453507448_781978144100979_2190600970164516376_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Heif3ZZ1rWkQ7kNvgHkPFA4&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Aa0TmyNPCRJzMXXftwoLOAI&oh=00_AYAz_aqv82fxgJGOOp1uZq_EJTFcSxrPQKhIqCY146z4UA&oe=6703F6A0	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,049	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	No	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&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/t39.35426-6/453328750_795902869195935_506455412142241469_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vIeRZU3QuzUQ7kNvgFovZbC&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aa0TmyNPCRJzMXXftwoLOAI&oh=00_AYAqhs4LPZrU48CB84zjmM2ekCgzY6QGapcAVxXA7zsMQw&oe=6703FF2A	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,065,046	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2065037}'	Yes	2024-10-03 02:07	active	1566	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1: PROLOGUE: Our three-year marriage is facing many challenges, and growing up as an orphan, who am I to expect anything better? My husband, Carter Whitlock, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Strong, kind, and fiercely devoted, he’s swept me off my feet from the moment we first met. In his arms, I’ve found solace and belonging. My mother-in-law, Elmyra, always has a disapproving gaze that’s never far from my side. The other members of the Whitlock family, too, seem to regard me with suspicion and disdain, as if I’m an interloper in their midst. I long to earn their acceptance, to prove myself worthy of their family name. Each day, I strive to be the perfect wife for Carter, tending to his needs with care and devotion. Yet no matter how hard I try, it seems as though I can never quite measure up to their expectations. Even so, a sense of determination always stirs within me. I won’t be cowed by their judgment, nor won’t I allow their harsh words to dim the light of my love for Carter. I'll be strong and unwavering in my resolve, and I’ll make my husband proud. ------ Hazel’s POV I have an unbelievable secret that I can’t wait to tell my husband. With our three year anniversary coming up, it’s about time we make our family complete. I hear the rumors being spread about me by his relatives; the whisper that I’m barren. I look down at the little pink plus sign on the test and I smile. It’s all going to change now. Carter will be so happy when I tell him. When I first met Carter at college, I had just stepped out of the campus coffee shop and a cyclist almost ran me over. Carter stepped in and grabbed me out of harm’s way. I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. He has been my hero from the very beginning. He is the city's most famous bachelor. and an incredibly rich man. I never thought he would be interested in someone like me. I had nothing to give him. Because of that, I have always felt inferior to him in our marriage. Not everyone approved of the marriage from the beginning. The house staff is respectful, but I think it’s only because I am the mistress. Not because they think I deserve it. I see the judgment in their eyes when they look at me. Both my mother-in-law and sisters-in-law are constantly making comments about my appearance. They love to remind me that I represent the formidable Whitlock family. As if my looks and the way I dress will forever stain their family’s image. I wasn’t even allowed to make any decisions on my own wedding. I tried to pick out the flowers and I was told my taste was ‘too simple’ for a wedding to the most nobel family. I have also been told on several occasions that I should be ‘seen and not heard’ during family meetings. Nobody trusts my opinion, let alone asks for it. Carter’s mother, Elmyra, has always been distant and indifferent to me. She treats me like an outcast and every time she approaches me I get nervous. Her hair is always perfectly done up; her makeup and clothes flawless. She is an intimidating woman and she often makes me feel small. She knows exactly what to say to cut deeply too. “I suppose you are happy riding my son’s coat tails the rest of your life? What purpose do you serve if you can’t give him an heir?” “It’s probably for the best, dear. As an orphan, you wouldn’t know the first thing about being a mother anyway.” “I don’t know what my son was thinking when he decided to marry you. You aren’t strong enough to be the lady of this family.” But I know I can rely on Carter to protect me from her harsh words and actions when he’s around. He even defends me against his mother when she is hard on me. “I know you want to be a grandmother mom, but Hazel and I are happy. We will have a child when we are ready.” Then he turns to me and kisses me on the forehead. I don’t know why Elmyra hates me so much. It makes me feel bad about myself, like I will never be good enough for her son. But, from now on, everything is going to change. Even Elmyra will have to start treating me better once she hears the news. I have a husband who adores me, a beautiful home and now, after years of trying, a new addition on the way to make our family complete. Me, an orphan, finally getting a real family to call her own. Just then Carter walks out of the bedroom looking as handsome as ever with his dark blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “Morning, babe. What’s for breakfast?” Carter asks as he strolls into the kitchen. He kisses me on the cheek and lightly squeezes my wrist as he walks past me to get his coffee. “Eggs and bacon,” I reply with a giggle. We eat our breakfast in companionable silence. I cherish every moment alone with my husband. I don’t care what his mother or his other relatives think. I just want his approval. The one person who has truly loved me and been there for me in my life. While I’m standing at the sink washing dishes, I feel a presence behind me suddenly. Something cold and heavy is placed on my heart. I look down at the most beautiful diamond necklace I’ve ever seen. It has a big cushion cut stone in the center and smaller stones wrapping up the sides of the necklace. “Carter! What is this for?” I ask breathlessly. “For being so beautiful,” he replies. He leads me over to a mirror on the wall and I gasp in surprise. “It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Tonight I’d like you to wear it to dinner with that short black dress I like. And, when we get back I’d like you to wear only this,” he says suggestively. “Yes, sir,” I say softly. I tip my head back to allow him access to my lips. He kisses me deeply and caresses my body and I lean into him. “I wish I could stay in bed all day with you, but this meeting is important,” he moans and steps back. “I will be waiting for you,” I say with a coy look. “What would I do without you? You are the love of my life,” he replies. He gives me another quick kiss and then he’s headed towards the door. I sigh happily, thinking about how much I’m going to miss him today. We had already planned on going out to dinner, but now it's going to be special. I will tell him I’m with child tonight and surprise him. Out of the blue, my phone rings. I see that it’s my best friend, Lillian. I’ve been so focused on being the perfect wife for Carter that I’ve lost touch with many of my friends. But Lilian is different. She knows everything about Carter and me. She knows how my mother-in-law and the other family members treat me. She has always been there for me. She knows what to say to make me feel better about anything. -[“Hi, Hazel. How are you?”]- she asks. “I’m doing ok,” I say. -[“Your voice doesn’t sound ok. Spill it.”]- “It’s nothing, just had a visit from Elmyra.” -[“You really shouldn’t put up with her crap, Hazel. Talk to Carter about it, maybe he can get her to lay off.”]- “I appreciate that but I think that will just make me look weak to her. She’s a complicated woman,” I say. -[“She’s a shrew,”]- Lillian’s sarcasm makes me laugh. “Speaking of which, I have to get ready for this afternoon tea so she doesn’t have my head. Talk later?” I ask. -[“So you’ll be gone all afternoon?”]- “Yes, unfortunately. These ladies love to drone on about family traditions,” I reply and then add, “Why, do you need something?” -[“No, I’m ok. I was going to ask you to lunch but another time. I’m always here for you Hazel so if it gets too much give me a call.”]- “Thank you. You are such a great friend,” I reply warmly. I hang up with Lillian and feel a pang of regret. I’m going to make it a priority to dedicate more time to our friendship. My day is over quickly. The tea goes very well and I decide to head home early. Usually, I’d follow the women back to Elmyra's house for dinner. I always want to be part of them. But this time, I’m very tired. I walk into our apartment and set my bag on the counter. I hum to myself, excited about seeing Carter soon. I start to walk into the kitchen when I hear a noise. It sounds like a moan. I stop what I’m doing instantly. Fear creeps up my spine. I make my way back towards the sound and I hear it again. Then I hear a bang noise and I almost jump out of my skin. My heart is pounding and my legs feel shaky. Something is wrong. I know it in my gut. I start to push the door open slowly and it makes a small creaking sound. What I see makes me gasp. A woman is grinding on top of Carter and he’s moaning. He grabs her groin and looks up at her adoringly. I feel like someone has just ripped my heart out. My breathing becomes erratic. I start to panic. My knees feel like jello. I clutch the door frame for support. How could he do this to me?! This man who said I was the love of his life just this morning! This man who gave me a beautiful necklace and told me he hated leaving me! Just then, the woman turns to me with an evil grin. Like she’s enjoying making me watch in horror. I can’t believe my own eyes. I draw shaky breaths as tears fall down my face. My heart pounds mercilessly as I lock eyes with Carter—the man I’ve once loved, now a mere stranger before me. Everything I thought I knew about my husband. About my life. Destroyed in an instant. The sight before me shocks me to my core. Lillian and Carter. In our bed. Making love. Chapter 2: The man who says he loves me in the morning is now making love with my best friend. Carter's hands roam over Lillian's underdressed body, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck, while Lillian's laughter echoes in the room like a cruel taunt. My throat constricts. I want to curse, to scream, to lash out at them with every ounce of fury burning inside me. But my voice fails me, lost in a desert of despair. Finally, Carter and Lillian notice my presence, their affection abruptly extinguished like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind. My tears fall unchecked now, hot and bitter against my cheeks. Carter scrambles to his feet, hastily pulling on his clothes. “Why are you here?” he asks. Lillian remains on the bed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her gaze cold and calculating. She revels in my agony, relishing the destruction she has wrought. “It’s not what you think it is,” Carter says. My heart shatters into a million jagged pieces. I need to get out of here! I clutch at my ventricle, willing my heart to keep beating. Carter catches up to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm, but I recoil from his touch as if burned. "Hazel, let’s talk," he demands, his voice raw with emotion. But I shake my head, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. “Talk about what?” My voice is a mere ghost of its former strength. “About how you slept with my best friend behind my back?” Now, I'm left shattered, questioning every moment of intimacy with Carter, every laugh shared with Lillian. Was it all a facade, a cruel illusion of love and friendship? The pain is unbearable, the disbelief suffocating! I make it back to our house after a hazy drive. I ascend to the master bedroom, my movements fueled by a desperate need to escape. With trembling hands, I begin to pull out my clothes and belongings from the cabinets and drawers, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase. I don’t care how messy it looks, don’t care about anything except getting away from all of it! "What’s gotten into you this time?" Elmyra calls out, breaking through the haze of my grief. I turn to her, standing in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Her aura exudes mockery and arrogance. I manage to choke out, "I’m leaving." Elmyra hisses, as if wanting to curse at me. But before she can speak again, I brush past her, down the stairs and flee from the house, my suitcase clutched tightly in my numbing hands. I steady my breath, then climb into my car and start the engine, the roar of the motor drowning out the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. I drive without direction; my subconscious takes control of the steering wheel and leads me to the only place I may feel safe - my parents' house. Mama is actually waiting for me at the threshold, I’m overwhelmed that I ignore the fact why she knows I’m coming. I walk in the doorway and papa, who’s reading a paper, frowns and asks, "Why do you look like that?” I sink onto the sofa, struggling to hold back my sobs. "What happened?" Mama perches on the edge of the sofa, her hand reaching out to brush away the tears that are staining my cheeks. I take a shaky breath, my heart constricting with pain. "I caught Carter and Lillian...together." I thought I'd have my parents’ support. But then, to my horror, their expressions darken, a look of apprehension crossing their faces. "Hazel," mama begins, her tone accusatory. "What have you done wrong?" Mama’s words suffocate me with its cruelty. “He is cheating on me–!That assho–” Slap! My head rears back from pain and shock. Papa just slaps me across the face! I hold my hand to my cheek. “Go back to Carter now, apologize for leaving, promise him that you won't do it again and that you'll stay by his side.” From the looks on their faces, I realize that they don't care about Carter's cheating. Only that I have brought disgrace upon them. Mama’s eyes are cold as she adds, "You must have done something wrong to cause Carter to cheat on you. Have you thought about what it would do to our family? Your brother's scholarship is still on Carter's dime. Your sister is about to out in the society and can't be dragged down by you. Now, do everything you can to not let Carter leave you.” This is my parents, my adoptive parents. I grew up pleasing them and being the best student in school, but they never look at me. Being adopted at a young age will do that. You are so grateful to the people who have taken you in. You are terrified of making a mistake that they may send you back to the orphanage and decide to adopt another child. A child that’s more obedient, smarter, better. So you bust yourself trying to make them proud of you. You stifle any part of yourself that may talk back or speak up. It wasn't until I married Carter that papa accepted me. The day we got married was the happiest day of my life. I thought mama and papa have considered me family all these years, now it turns out I was wrong. They don't care about me, at all. Papa says, "Have you had enough, I'm going to call Carter and have him bring you home. " I can’t take this anymore, this isn’t what I’m here for! This place can't provide the safety or even the comfort I desperately need! I turn on my heels and storm out of the house with my suitcase in hands before they can react. Humiliated, despised, and helpless… as I begin to acknowledge that I lost my husband and my family on the same day. Chapter 3: It all clicks. The late night calls, the flirtings, the unusual caring with Lillian - their chuckles in bed, my parents' coldness, Elmyra's sneers. My mind replays these scenes over and over again, like a broken record. I sit on the edge of the bed of the apartment I rented since last night, the weight of the world keeps pressing down on my shoulders. Just as I’m sinking deeper into the darkness of my thoughts, my phone shatters the silence. I jolt as I wipe away my tears. My hand trembles slightly as I glance at the screen. Then, my jaw clenches in anger when I see the caller ID—Lillian. “Really? You still have the guts to call me?” I hiss. -["Listen, Hazel, it's evident where his heart lies, and frankly, your dramatics won't change that. Just gracefully accept the truth and move on, like any sensible person would."]- Lilian says in her sweet voice, without a hint of remorse or shame. -[“We need to talk, Express Cafe, now.”]- My grip on the phone tightens, my nails digging into my palm as I fight to keep my composure. I force my anger down, steeling myself for whatever lies Lillian is about to spin. "Fool me once" I say courageously, “If you think…” -[“Don't you want to know why and when your husband cheated on you?”]- She's been my best friend long enough to know what will pinch me. She hangs up, the silence that follows echoing in the small apartment like a deafening roar. Express Cafe is just a few minutes' drive away. I slip into a corner booth and wait, quickly smooth concealer around my swollen eyes, as I watch the door with bated breath. Lilian comes in blushing like a woman in love, and ironically, her love has turned out to be mine. An awkward silence ensues and we stare at our respective coffee cups for a while. “Why, Lillian?” I finally ask. "Hazel, you need to face the truth. Carter loves me, not you. He's only with you because he wants an heir, a baby. Once he gets what he wants from you, he'll leave you for me." "Is that so?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. A very faint smile plays at the corners of Lilian’s lips that she tries so hard to hide by tilting her head down as she reaches into her bag and produces her phone. With a few taps of her finger, she turns the screen towards me, revealing a string of text messages between her and Carter. "He's been seeing me behind your back, Hazel," Lilian says, her voice holding a tinged of a smug satisfaction. "He's been telling me everything. How he can't stand being with you, how he's only staying with you for appearance’s sake. He's using you, and you're too blind to see it." My breath dries in my throat as I read the messages. The Carter in the text messages is nothing like the husband I knew. I can tell by his texts that he is happy, which makes my heart ache even more. “But what does that have to do with why you betrayed me? You were my best friend,” I say, trying not to show how much these messages hurt me. “At first we were friends, but then I realized I could never really respect you. The way you let people walk all over you...I’m sorry but it’s just pathetic. And then I stayed close to you so I could be near Carter,” she replies. “He never loved you, I’m always his true love. He met me first. ” she continues. I swallow a lump in my throat and quietly take a deep breath. “How long has this been going on?” I ask. “Pretty much since the beginning. A few months into your marriage, maybe,” she says without remorse. My head is reeling with the idea that Carter has been cheating on me for so long. I’m shocked that Lillian has such a mean streak. She’s never my friend to begin with. How could I have let these kinds of people into my life, into my heart? Just then I hear the door jingle, prompting me to look up. To my shock, Carter appears. “You called Carter?” I ask Lillian in a horrified tone. “You two really need to talk. You need to think about your life choices, accept the reality and it's good for all of us.” she replies snidely. She gets up to leave and Carter takes her place in the opposite chair. "Come home with me. We had a good time, didn't we? We can still live the life we had before. It’s not like you don’t enjoy the things we do together,” he says. He tries to run his hand up my arm but I slap him away. “Don’t touch me. I only enjoyed them when I thought I was the only one you were doing it with!” I whisper between my gritted teeth. "I'm the only one who can stand you in bed, you know how boring you used to be in bed? I made you moan over and over. You know you still want me..." He stares at me with those cold eyes. The eyes I once loved. He’s finally stopped pretending. It’s all been an act. I see that now. Carter changes his personality to suit his needs. He manipulates people to get what he wants. He manipulated me before and he’s trying to do it again! I say nothing, trying to keep my anger in check. “I don’t know why you are fighting this so hard. Most women would die to be in your place. They’d be very happy to get even the tiniest scrap from me,” He pauses, waiting for my reply. But I keep my silence. “You agreed to my terms. I have your signature on the prenuptial agreement to prove it. So get over yourself and fulfill your duty to me. Then you can go on about your sad little life, while I rise to the top and make my family proud,” he boasts. “Did you ever love me?” I ask. "Love is too strong of a word.” He laughs out loud as if he has heard something ridiculous. “You have good breeding, your parents assured me like you would be an obedient wife, and all along you've done well. Why don't you keep it up? Come home now, before I run out of patience." He’s never loved me. His tone reminds me of the new racehorse he bought last month. A new, premium racehorse, presentable, brings him victories and can be bred to produce foals again. He never sees me as a wife, or even as a person. “Not a chance,” I say proudly. “Remember your prenup? If you don't bear me children, you will be ruined. Your family will be in debt for the rest of their lives. Don't you dare try to leave me.” His pupils dilate like that of a wild animal's, and he chokes me with his hand. I can barely breathe, I can feel he’s serious about hurting me, this man I had loved is literally taking my breath away. “I’m leaving you, one way or another…." With what strength I have left I try to remove his hand and finish the sentence with the last of my breath. My peripheral vision sees that people are already whispering and looking over at us, and some even take out their phones and start taking pictures of us. ”How are you…” He growls, low and dangerous. He notices the look in the crowd's eyes, and I'm betting he won’t dare make a scandal like domestic scandal in public if he wants to remain reputable. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. He then lets go and I can finally breathe heavily. I cough, calling his bluff. He finally breaks the stare and leaves in a huff. The look on his face is absolutely worth it. I may have to pay the consequences later. But for now, I feel free for the first time in my life. I will leave Carter, no matter the cost. Chapter 4: Read your contract - This should be on my tombstone. I dug out my prenup from when papa told me not to worry about anything, that they would protect me and all I had to do was sign it, and so I did. But now, I realize that every conditioning of this prenup is working against me. My parents sold me into marriage, and they’ll be furious with me for getting a divorce. They’ll be bankrupt and vulnerable to attacks without Carter’s protection. “If you want a divorce, you won’t get a penny from me. You will no longer be under my protection. Think twice, Hazel.” Those are Carter's words, which are burned in my memory. I just wanna brush off the agreement and his threat by not thinking too much about them. But then, they start to haunt me, making me understand the realness of it all. Escaping isn’t a possibility, and Carter proves that… The rain pours as I stand on the doorstep of my rented house, the water mingles with the tears I try so hard to hold back. “Your husband's men took your car. I was about to tell you while they’re here so you can talk to them about it, but they’re so aggressive and I got scared that they may hurt me,” my landlord says. A rush of anger and helplessness courses through me as I stare at the empty space of the parking lot where I last left my car. As if that’s not enough for Carter, he adds another unwanted surprise for me. “Also,” the landlord begins, pity and fear etched across her wrinkled face. "Your husband called through the cellphone of one of his men. He threatened me, said he'd ruin my business if I don't evict you. So.., I can't keep the house rented to you anymore.” The world seems to tilt, the ground shifting beneath my feet. "B-but, I have nowhere to go. Besides, I need time to find a new place." The landlord shakes her head, her face stern. "I can't risk it. The young Whitlock has too much influence. I can't afford to be caught in whatever marital problem you have." I wanna protest again, but she’s right. Carter may put her in a difficult situation like he’s doing to me now, and I don’t wanna be the reason for it. With a heavy heart, I pack my things, and drag myself and my suitcase out into the storm. I then head to the nearest hotel. Without cash, I rely on my credit cards. The clerk at the front desk shakes his head as he hands back my credit card to me. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. Your card has been declined." My cheeks burn with shame. "Can you try again, please?" The clerk tries again,... and beep! Declined, again! Maybe this hotel’s POS machine isn’t working - at least that’s what I wanna believe in, though deep down, my inkling is telling me something else. I walk to another hotel, and approach the front desk, my hands shaking as I present my credit card. "I need a room, please," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. To my surprise, without even taking my credit card, the clerk shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitlock. We can't help you." “Why?” I ask with a little frustration. The manager, who looks uncomfortable, comes to the clerk’s rescue, and answers, “Mr. Carter Whitlock has banned you from our hotel." You’ve got to be kidding me? Where would I go now? There’s no refuge for me now. Carter’s reach is far and his influence powerful, making sure I’m isolated, vulnerable. He’s trying to force me back, cutting me off financially, stripping away my options. Soon I will be in debt and poor, which isn’t good, especially that I’m now going to be a mother. I have to find a way out of this, and the only temporary solution I can think of is to pawn my pearls and earrings for some cash. I quickly head to a pawnshop, and its owner eyes me as I lay my jewelry on the counter. "I need to cash these," I say. He picks up the pearls, turning them over in his hands, his eyes narrowing as he glances at my suitcase. "You left home?” “Y-yes, and it’s hard to find a place to stay. My credit cards have been declining, so I need cash.” The owner smirks as he says, “Nice pieces, but I can't give you much for them. Market's down, you see." My heart sinks. I know he’s lying, taking advantage of my desperation. But what choice do I have - haggling? Then what? Get another rejection? I don’t wanna face with that. "How much?" I ask, bracing myself. He names a figure that’s insultingly low, but I nod, swallowing my pride and the bitter taste of defeat. "I'll take it." At least I have money that'll last for a few days if I spend it wisely. That’s what matters for now. He counts out the bills with deliberate slowness while his eyes on me, a predator sensing vulnerability. When he finally hands over the money, I grab it. But I have to stay in the lobby for a moment, waiting for the rain to stop. Suddenly, my eyes flicker on the TV that’s currently showing a flash news with a caption; ‘The Divorce of the Century’. The wife, once vilified by the town, now stood vindicated by Marius Thorne, the town's most revered lawyer. “Marius Thorne,” I echo. Marius Thorne’s image flashes on the screen, a vision of confidence and success. His gold eyes, piercing, enchanting even. According to the news, he's a partner at the biggest law firm in town and he never loses in court. “He may be who I need,” I murmur to myself, excitement surging within me. Once the rain stops, I begin searching for a new place to stay. With newfound determination and what little cash I have, I find refuge in a cramped flat that doesn't check documents. The landlord, a cold and distant old lady, lays down the rules; no pets allowed, no men allowed, before disappearing from my sight. In this tiny room, my troubled heart finally quiets down. For now, I’m safe, hidden from Carter's relentless pursuit. Through G****e, I search the name ‘Marius Thorne’, and quickly call the numbers on the law firm profile he’s working with. After a few rings, a female voice echoes from the other end of the line. -[“Counsel Commanders Law Firm, how can we help you?”]- “Hi! I’m filing for divorce and I need to make an appointment with Marius Thorne, is he available to speak with?” Chapter 5: Divorce is never as easy as I thought it would be. -[“I’m calling to inform you that Mr. Thorne has decided to NOT take your case. We can recommend good divorce lawyers if needed….”]- The woman’s tone is cool and reserved over the phone. Confusion clouds my thoughts, and questions race through my mind—why would he turn me away? Is he busy? Or does he find my case not worthy of his time? I quickly rush to the law firm, hoping to personally meet and talk to Marius Throne, but I’m told by his secretary that appointments with Marius Throne are currently lined up for a month from now. So, he’s busy. Even so,... I’m still hoping that he’ll have a change of heart and accept my divorce case if only he can understand my situation. It’s a good case, hard case to be exact - my prenup agreement is harsh and my husband was caught cheating red-handed. This may pique his interest. The bustling lobby seems to shrink in an instant as I, lost in my thoughts, collide with someone in a sharp, tailored suit. I stumble back, instinctively apologizing. "Oh, I'm so sor-!" But when the man speaks, I freeze mid-apology. "Hazel?" he says, his voice a mix of surprise and recognition. My brow furrows as I stare at him, trying to place the familiar handsome face. Then, it hits me. "Leslie?!" I exclaim, my confusion giving way to excitement. "It's nice to see you again!" Leslie returns my smile, his eyes lighting up with warmth. "It's nice to see you again too." My mind trips me back to our high school days, the laughter, the secrets shared, which were overshadowed by the years of silence that followed my marriage to Carter. "It’s been a long time,” I say. “What are you doing in a place like this?" A proud smile tugs at Leslie's lips as he proudly gestures around the lobby. "I work here as a Senior Legal Associate." Senior Legal Associate? - I echo inwardly with awe. Quickly, a glimmer of possibility shines through my uncertainty! And when Leslie asks the question back to me, I know I have to seize the opportunity. “How about you, what are you doing here?” In a heartbeat, I reply, "I'm divorcing my husband, and I need to talk to Attorney Thorne now. His secretary said he has many cases lined up for him. But he’s my only hope. Can you help me meet him, please?" As I wait for his response, I look into his eyes, praying for a lifeline. “Mr. Thorne is a troublesome boss, difficult to work with, and even harder to persuade,” he says. My stubbornness refuses to let doubt cloud my determination. I’m desperate. Despite the warning signs, I press on, my resolve unshaken. "Just let me talk to him. Then I'll decide whether I still want to trust my case to him or not... please?" Leslie's smile turns brittle. "Alright. I'll try to talk to him first about you. Follow me." I follow Leslie, then wait outside one of the doors that are lining the corridor as I watch him disappear into the room. I hope Leslie's charm will be enough to sway Marius Thorne, to at least grant me a chance to plead my case. And maybe, just maybe, if I can make him understand, I can turn the tide in my favor. After a moment of agony, Leslie finally emerges from the room, his smile radiant as he meets my eager gaze. “You may now go in,” he announces, his voice tinged with excitement. My heart leaps with anticipation, and I can't help but squeal with delight. With a grin, I say, “Thank you so, so much!” I waste no time in crossing the threshold into the room. As I close the door, my eyes quickly fall upon Marius Thorne behind the mahogany desk. He’s tall and he’s impeccably handsome too, more so than Leslie and even Carter himself. Clad in a printed suit, he exudes an air of impassiveness that sends chills down my spine. His jawline is sharp, his gold eyes are more piercing in person than they were on TV, and his dark hair perfectly groomed. Marius’ voice is devoid of emotion just like his expression. "My secretary and Leslie told me that you’re planning to divorce your husband, Carter of the Whitlock Family.” Surprised, I ask, "You know my husband?" Is Marius Thorne turning me off because of my husband? He dodges my question, and delivers his verdict instead. "I have a full schedule for the rest of the year to take on new cases. I can recommend good divorce lawyers to you If you need..." Disappointment and frustration foam in my heart, my hands clenching to my sides. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" Marius remains unmoved. Without a tiny hint of second-thought, he crashes me with a one-word answer, “None.” Pride becomes my shield from rejection. I’ve walked away from anyone where I’m unwanted. I did that from Carter and his family, from my parents, God, I can just walk away from this stranger too! With a forced smile, I turn to the door. But just as I reach the threshold, a hand grips my wrist with unexpected force. Then, Carter's angry face looms over me. I struggle to maintain my balance. "Carter, let go of me!" I demand, my voice trembling with fear and defiance. “What do you think you’re doing here?!” he asks back, his face red with beasty fury. Carter drags me aggressively. I try to get rid of him, shoving my wrist from his iron grip, but his strength is overpowering. Finally, we reach the lobby, where curious eyes watch our confrontation unfold. Carter releases my wrist, but my humiliation doesn't end there. In a voice sharp and cold, he unleashes a torrent of threats that makes my blood run cold. "I own half of this law firm. When my wife came to my firm looking for a divorce lawyer, You think I wouldn't notice that?——" My eyes widen in surprise… that’s news to me. Carter pinches my hand and says, “You didn't really think that you could find a lawyer who would dare take you on, did you?” My mind goes blank, could this be the reason why Marius Thorne kept refusing me? Is there any other divorce attorney in town who will take my case? Who’s not scared of Carter? Carter grabs my arm once again. “Stop defying me! You can’t just waltz out of our marriage without consequences. Didn’t I already make sure you know that? The hardship you’re going through now is just the tip of the iceberg of what else I can do to you." I try to let go myself, but it’s no use, Carter is much stronger than I am. He then tightens his grip on me, which prompts me to hiss in pain. “Carter, please,” I beg. Carter parts his lips, but before he can continue his tirade, a pair of hands intervenes, grasping both my arm and his. I look up, and see Marius standing before us.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&u	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	806	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	redtgb.com	VIDEO		https://redtgb.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=12972&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/t39.35426-6/453202836_1158120778800115_7390564090247189563_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yXS5TeJBN2sQ7kNvgEMN4A4&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Aa0TmyNPCRJzMXXftwoLOAI&oh=00_AYAxINpDknyU8ryFaENv9k9eXFcwBPdN2Y74rNoTrjyv6w&oe=670421C5	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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