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He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......” | 💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 866 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IhfugVb4SSQQ7kNvgEebnmv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5AsuE4EtgDuHXJA8Yd8OBI&oh=00_AYD_8SCv17OnDZ2dbCJlZAtLWcqVHgG1FXwOx3yTAsI9gQ&oe=675EDDC7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281)
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🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉 | After six years, Stella Richard finally came back this familiar city. She walked out of the airport and hailed a taxi. When the taxi moved, all the memories she had tried to forget over the years began to flood her mind... Stella shook her head, chasing those thoughts away. This time, she hadn’t come back to dwell on old, useless memories. She was back because her boss had asked her to return. He told her that their company was at a dead end, and he wanted her to come back and solve the crisis. At first, Stella didn’t want to come, but after some thought, she decided to return... Six years ago, her boss had helped her during the most difficult time of her life, and she wanted to repay the favor... As for everything else, she no longer cared... At the Company... As Stella arrived, she noticed that most of the employees were engaged in a lively discussion. As she walked by, snippets of conversation reached her ears. "I heard that there are so many companies who want to buy our company." "Really! That means we’ll have a new boss." "I just hope that our new boss should be good-looking, like a Korean drama CEO." "Hey! Do you know who’s going to buy the company?" Stella heard their chatter but didn’t care about the gossip. She knew these people didn’t actually care about who would buy the company or for what price. They just wanted to gossip. But she... She cared... and she was here to secure a good deal for her company. "Of course, it’ll be Kingston’s, the RK Group. Who else in the city is powerful enough to challenge them?" Stella, who had been about to continue walking, stopped in her tracks. A name, both familiar and unfamiliar, reached her ears. "The Kingstons..." "RK Group..." Suddenly, memories Stella had locked away began to surge like a storm. Her mind was filled with those memories like a flood. Stella felt dizzy. It was as if she were still trapped in that RK mansion, surrounded by cold walls. Stella had thought she had long forgotten about him, but it seemed that it was just her illusion. [Flashback] Six Years Ago... In the RK Mansion... Stella walked out of the gate inside the living room. But her expression was somber. She moved as if in a daze. "Madam, what happened to you? Why do you look so pale and weak?" The one who spoke was Mia. She was working for Kingston's for years and always treated Stella like her daughter. Seeing her pale face and weak demeanor, Mia was worried. "Mia... Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just..." Stella glanced at the reports in her hand and said, "I haven’t had my period for two months, and when I went to the hospital..." She didn’t finish her sentence, looking at Mia with a mix of expectation and worry. They just stared at each other. Mia understood what Stella wanted to say. She was pregnant. But Mia also knew about the relationship between Mr. RK and Stella. She didn’t know what to say. In the end, she just congratulated her. Stella didn’t say anything and kept staring at the reports in her hand. She had been married to Rene Kingston for three years. But theirs was not a marriage of love... It was a contract marriage, with a three-year time limit. Because the woman he loved was her sister. RK had been about to marry her sister, Sophia, but for some reason, Stella had ended up replacing her sister. From the day they married, he had told her that their marriage was just a three-year contract and nothing more. For RK, their marriage was indeed just a contract, but for Stella, it was a beautiful gift from God. Because only she knew how happy she was when she found out she was going to marry RK. The man she had loved throughout her youth. All these years, Stella had given her best in this marriage, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their marriage would work out. Maybe he wouldn’t divorce her. Maybe he would want to stay with her... Maybe he would give their relationship a chance because of the child... Stella was still lost in thought when suddenly, a voice came from the door, shattering all her hopes and illusions. "I don’t want this child." The voice was cold and hard. Stella and Mia both turned to look in the direction of the voice. RK was standing at the door, staring at Stella. His face was cold and expressionless. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He had a very handsome face and blue eyes. His blue eyes were like the deep ocean. If you looked into them. Then you would be drowned in it. Chapter 2 RK walked in and stood in front of Stella. He appeared like a king, towering above the world and looking down upon everyone as if they were nothing. With his tall frame and commanding aura, he exuded an undeniable power. Stella sat on the sofa, overwhelmed by his presence. She remained seated, staring at him, shocked by his words. She never expected this man to be so cold-blooded, uttering such harsh words without a second thought. There was no hesitation in his voice when he said he didn’t want the child. Stella looked into his eyes, trying her best to remain calm and hold back her tears. She didn’t want to appear weak in front of this cold man. The two of them just stared at each other in silence. After a while, RK walked over and sat opposite Stella. As he sat down, his assistant, Alex Triston, placed a stack of papers on the table. At the top of the papers were the words "Contract Expired." Alex looked at Stella and said, "Miss Richard, according to your contract with Mr. RK, three years have now been completed. Please sign here and finalize the process." Stella noted the change in how Alex addressed her—from Mrs. RK to Miss Richard. Even though she still hadn't signed her name. A mocking smile appeared on her face. She was sure that Alex wouldn’t have dared to take her so lightly, if it hadn’t been ordered by someone, of course, and that someone was none other than her husband. RK took the pen and signed his name without a pause or thought. After finishing, he looked at Stella and said, "You can stay here for a week and look for the house." Stella looked into the man's eyes which are calm as a lake. There was no regret, sadness, or hesitation—nothing. It was as if he felt nothing about their relationship, which had suddenly gone through such a big change. But as this thought crossed her mind, she scolded herself. "Stella, are you a fool? How can you expect any regret or sadness from this stone-hearted man?" But still, she couldn’t control her emotions. Because she had loved this stone-heated man for so many years. Stella didn’t say anything and just looked at the man with whom she had spent the past three years. She had seen his face every day, yet now, as she looked at him, she still found him strikingly handsome. But... he was also the man who had shattered her heart into a thousand pieces. She didn’t want to show her vulnerability in front of him, so she tried her best not to cry. Her hand trembled as she held the pen. She looked at the papers, saw his elegant and strong handwriting, and signed her name. Just like her heart, her handwriting was also broken. Stella was shattered inside, but she didn't show this on her face. After she signed her name, she took a deep breath and said, "I am very grateful to Mr. Kingston that he allowed me to stay here for a week, but after our contract expires I don't think I should stay here. I will leave immediately." After speaking, Stella glanced at Mia and asked, "Mia, can you help me pack my things?" Mia looked at Stella's face and saw how hard she trying not to cry and her heartache. She didn't want to do this, but she had to do it. Stella went upstairs to pack her belongings, while RK watched her retreating figure, his emotions unreadable. Stella looked around the room where she had lived for three years, her eyes turned blurred... She can't hold back her tears. She knew their marriage would end someday, but she hadn’t anticipated such intense pain in her heart. Stella didn’t have many things to pack. She just packed her belongings but left everything RK had bought untouched— not even a single piece of clothing. Mia watched her in silence, unsure of what to say. Stella wiped away her tears and said, "Mia, don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s just that I’m not his Mrs. Right." With that, she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. Downstairs... RK was still sitting on the sofa, watching Stella. But Stella didn't want to look at him and was ready to leave... "Where are you going?" Suddenly, his cold voice cut through the silence. Stella paused and turned to look at him. She hadn’t been on good terms with her family from the beginning, and after her marriage, it had been nearly impossible to maintain any connection with them. As for him, they were now divorced, so she felt no reason or obligation to tell him where she was going. "I don’t think my whereabouts has anything to do with Mr. Kingston. We’re already divorced and have nothing to do with each other. Mr. Kingston must be focused on his future wife, not on his ex-wife..." Stella's tone was cold and it was like she was throwing daggers from her mouth. She couldn’t comprehend his hypocritical behavior. She wondered if it was her imagination or not, but it felt as though, after mentioning his future wife, the temperature in the room had dropped a lot. She felt a chill spread through her body and decided to leave. "Wait a second." His voice was firm and allowed no rebuttal. Chapter 3 Stella heard his voice and stopped. There was a little bit of hope in her heart. The man's eyes were dark and cold, filled with mysterious thoughts, and a layer of fog surrounded him. Suddenly, he spoke, "I don't want this child. Don't forget to take it out." RK looked at the woman in front of him and thought. She seemed like a pure and beautiful woman, and he didn't want her to carry his burden. Stella's hand, which was holding her luggage, trembled, and the little bit of hope in her heart vanished. She felt like someone had stabbed a knife into her heart. He had broken her heart so many times, but... she didn’t know why she still felt hurt every time it happened. "Boooom." His words exploded in her head like a bomb, and the little bit of hope she had left in her heart was also gone. The hands holding the bag tightened. She felt like someone had stabbed her heart, and she could smell the blood. Suddenly, she laughed at herself. She felt like a fool. How could she expect anything from a man who was so cold toward his child? "If you don't want this child, then why did you sleep with me?" She wanted to yell at him, but in the end, she didn’t say anything. He had once told her that he liked children, which was why she hadn’t taken the pills. But... It was as if he liked children but not with her. Stella's heart was in so much pain, but she didn’t want to let him see her tears. She didn’t turn around, keeping her back facing him. Stella took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Kingston, don’t think too much. I also don’t want this child at all. I have already decided to get rid off it." She was about to leave but then stopped and said, "One more thing, I hope we don’t see each other again in this life." After she said, Stella didn’t stop for a minute and left. At first, she didn’t want to leave this place, but now... She felt suffocated. Stella held her bag tightly and left without looking back. RK watched the woman’s back, struggling to keep herself straight and not stumble. His eyes were dark and filled with unreadable emotions. Only after her figure disappeared from his sight did his tense back relax. [Flashback end] "I am sorry, I didn’t see you..." Suddenly, a man bumped into Stella, who was standing in the hallway. Files fell to the ground. But because of this she also came back from the memories from six years ago. "No, I am sorry," she said, helping him pick up the files before going into the elevator. As the elevator door opened, Jack Paul stood outside and greeted her. Jack Paul looked at Stella with a smile and said, "Stella, here you are. How are you? You are new here. If you need anything, please feel free to tell me." Stella looked at him and nodded. "I am fine, thank you." As they talked, they went to his office and sat down. Jack looked at Stella and said, "Stella, I am very happy that you accepted my offer and came back." As he spoke, he handed her a red file and continued, "I am sure you have heard that our company is going to be acquired by someone. This file contains the reports I made; take a look." Stella took the file and nodded. Jack continued, "Many companies want to buy our company, but among all of them, RK Groups is the best. However, the price offered by Mr. RK was too low." He paused and said, "This time, I ask you to come back so that you can turn the situation around." "RK Groups... Rene Kingston..." Stella's hands holding the file trembled. The memories she had locked away deep down in her heart suddenly resurfaced. Stella calmed herself and said, "I will do my best." "That’s good," Jack laughed and said. "Now that you have taken on this project, I am not worried anymore." Chapter 4 The next day, at a coffee shop... Stella had already organized all the documents and asked the negotiation director of the RK Group to meet her at the coffee shop. As she was waiting, a man wearing a black suit and gold-rimmed glasses came over. But when he walked over and saw Stella, he looked shocked. Stella also looked at the person in front of her and was shocked, too. Because the one standing in front of her was RK's assistant, Alex Triston. For a moment, both of them stayed quiet. It was Stella who took the initiative and said, "Long time no see." Alex heard her words and quickly regained his composure. He nodded and sat down. Stella didn’t waste much time and went straight to the point. "Mr. Triston, here are the documents. If you find them satisfactory, please sign them." As she spoke, she pushed the documents in front of him. Alex looked at the eye-catching price of 70 million and was shocked. "Miss Richard, the RK Group can only offer 40 million. The price your company is asking for is very high." Stella didn’t want to sign this contract from the beginning. She would never let that man become her boss. She felt like she was wasting her time on the RK Group and should find another company. "It's alright, but we can't sign this contract." She said, packing her things and deciding to leave. Alex saw that she was about to leave and that she wasn’t interested in this deal, and he panicked. He rushed over and stopped her. "Miss Richard, please wait. Let me call and ask about the price again." Stella stopped and nodded. "Of course." Alex stepped to the side and made a call. **** At the RK Group's CEO office... RK was sitting in the head chair, listening to a report from the marketing department, when his phone rang. RK glanced at the phone and hung up. He didn’t like being disturbed at work. But after a few seconds, it rang again. The people standing in the office saw his cold expression and trembled. They felt like the person on the other side was about to die. RK's face didn’t look good, and the people reporting to him felt a chill down their spines. RK picked up the phone and asked, "What is it?" His voice was cold. Alex reported the situation on the other side. "Tell them it’s not going to happen. 70 million is too much; they’re not worth it." After he finished speaking, he was about to hang up. But Alex said something that made him pause for a while. His fingers tapped on the table, and after a minute, he replied, "Okay, then let's agree to 70 million." After that, he paused for a moment and added, "Tell her I’m coming to the company, and ask her to personally explain to me how it’s worth 70 million." After he spoke, he hung up the phone. There were some unknown emotions in his deep blue eyes. The people from the marketing department heard his words and were shocked. "The CEO is going to personally sign the contract." "Is that negotiation really worth his visit?" Moreover, they knew that in this negotiation, Mr. Kingston didn’t need to be personally involved. All of them had question marks on their faces. **** Alex wasn’t too far away, so Stella could hear parts of his conversation. She heard Alex directly reporting her name to the person on the other side of the phone. Within just three minutes... "Miss Richard, wait! Mr. Kingston said that they have no problem with your price. The agreement must be set according to your company’s plan. Let's quickly sign the deal so that no one can back out." After he finished speaking, he took out the documents, signed his name, and handed the pen to Stella. Looking at his arrogant attitude, as if he had already bought her company, Stella was a little shocked. She stared at the pen in a daze. She hadn’t expected the agreement between the two companies to go so smoothly and effortlessly. Stella felt like she had made her stand clear by not lowering her price and being firm in her decision. But who would have thought that RK would be even more determined than she was in the acquisition of the company? He even agreed to sign the contract at her price. "Didn’t he pride himself on never changing his decisions, no matter what? Then why did he change this one?" she thought. "Was it because, after living with the love of his life, he changed?" But no matter what. Now, what could she do? Stella took the pen and signed her name. She didn’t care about him anymore. Anyway, she wasn’t going to stay here. Usually, she didn’t want him to become her boss, but what could she do? She needed to finish this job and leave quickly. Alex put the documents back, shook hands with her, and said, "Miss Richard, from now on, we’re colleagues in the same company. Please take care of us in the future!" Stella just gave him a forced smile. Only she and God knew how much she didn’t want this man to be her boss. Alex looked at her and added, "Miss Richard, please go back to the company quickly. Mr. Kingston will be there in a while. He said he wants you to... personally explain how your company is worth 70 million." Alex also didn’t know why his boss wanted Miss Richard to do it personally, after what happened between them before. But as an assistant, he could only do as he was told. ***** On the way back to the company... Stella was sitting in the car, but her mind was filled with thoughts of how RK would soon become her boss. "Ahhh! Stella, you’re the best. You just signed the contract as soon as you showed up!" The one who speak was the assistant to the director of the company. "Stella, you don’t know, but before you came, Mr. Paul sent many people to negotiate with Mr. Kingston, but he only kept lowering the price." She hugged Stella and said happily, "Stella, you’re our lucky star." Stella just lowered her head and didn’t speak. Because it wasn’t what she wanted. Lily continued, "Stella, you just came back, so you probably don’t know much about the city, right?" As she spoke, she leaned closer to Stella’s ear and whispered, "Let me tell you, Mr. Kingston is the most handsome man in X City. He’s not only handsome but also rich and capable. He’s the dream man of many women in the world." Stella heard her words and felt speechless. "I heard that he had a fiancée before, but he already left her, six years ago," Lily said. "He didn’t marry her sister?" Stella couldn’t believe they hadn’t married yet. Didn’t he give her a divorce because he wanted to marry her sister? She thought that by now, they must be married, have children, and be living happily together. "Stella, here you are." When Jack heard that Stella had reached an agreement with RK Groups, he personally came to welcome her with a big smile on his face. "Stella, you didn’t disappoint me. Quickly, go to the meeting room and sit for a while. Mr. Kingston will be here soon, and you will come with me to welcome him." | LEARN_MORE | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&u | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 866 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | redtgb.com | DCO | https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14852&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463458162_1057416305697342_2990773163964624253_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IVego0l4td0Q7kNvgGz1mAg&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1p3BetFz53PXAM66qUXG52&oh=00_AYA0V5jixmCJ5zP_QncpyA1jUZFTFFJo2FEt0ZsINLtq7Q&oe=675EBC7F | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." At Grace Mansion, Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, spoke to his wife, determination and a trace of guilt in his face. Carissa Sinclair stared at her husband--she had waited for a whole year, her eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa replied coldly. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward! “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, and her six brothers had all sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates for a full hour before they were let in. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict." "Another edict?" Holding back tears, Carissa looked up with determined eyes. She pleaded, "Your Majesty, General Warren and General Yates sought the marriage edict with their military achievements. Today is the death anniversary of my father and brothers. Based on my late family's military merits, I wish to seek an edict-- An amicable divorce with General Warren." | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464333883_539427592316325_3288990928559249073_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CLJJ5U29hzYQ7kNvgEla0Yu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFD6Ak-mu7Ekr2g2u7OYVgz&oh=00_AYBSOslGTonUvl8Y7Aqp93ytXKNnyg8CAyvknP0M1FHeQg&oe=675EC241 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-12-10 20:43 | active | 1989 | 0 | Emerging from the confines of marriage, she blossomed from a mundane housewife to a renowned painter with a legion of admirers. When her ex-husband sought reconciliation at her doorstep, he witnessed her in the arms of a prominent man. "Meet your new sister-in-law!" ===== In the dimly lit, opulent private cinema, the most exclusive jewelry auction was being broadcast live. "One million, going once, going twice--" The rich cadence of the auctioneer's voice echoed through the room, the man tightened his grip around Alicia Bennett's waist... With the intensity between them only grew fiercer as time passed... The auctioneer's gavel fell. "Sold for ten million! Let's give a round of applause to Mr. Joshua Yates!" The name struck Alicia like a lightning bolt. Her body instantly went rigid, something that the man couldn't help but notice, flicked lazily toward the screen. The camera zoomed in on Joshua Yates's face, every detail of his familiar features displayed in perfect clarity. "Joshua Yates, the second son of the Yates family... an acquaintance perhaps?" he drawled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a sly smile. Alicia's frown deepened. The last thing she wanted was to discuss it, she didn't respond. The man, upon seeing the situation, chuckled lightly before his movements grew even more relentless... ...... When it was over, Alicia took advantage of the man's time in the shower and quietly made her escape. When Caden Ward finally emerged from the bathroom, not catching sight of the woman's figure, he curled his lips slightly. Moments later, his assistant, Hank Ford, burst into the room, clearly on edge, "Er, apologies, Mr. Ward. I let my guard down. Give me a moment, and I'll have her brought back immediately." They had just returned to the country, taking every precaution. And yet, a woman had managed to slip through the cracks of their security. Caden's features calm, almost indifferent. "No need. I was... a willing participant." Hank's eyes widened in shock. In all the time he'd known Caden, the man had never slept with a woman,even physical contact. There were even rumors that Caden might suffer from some secret ailment. Yet now, those whispers seemed to evaporate in the face of this unexpected turn of events. Before Hank could make sense of it, Caden's deep voice pulled him back to reality. "I want you to look into Joshua's personal life. Have the report on my desk in half an hour." Tonight, Alicia had stumbled into his room, feverish and desperate. It was obvious she'd been framed. And then came the revelation--Alicia was still a pureness. Two years of marriage to Joshua... Yet she was still untouched? Caden's lips curled into a satisfied smile. But as he reflected, one thing became abundantly clear--Alicia had no idea who she'd been with due to the d*ug's effects. ... By the time Alicia returned home, the first light of dawn filtered through the windows. Only then did she realize how long she had been out. But before she could dwell any further, her phone rang. It was her bestie, Monica Flynn, calling. "Alicia!" Monica practically screeched from the other end of the line, her voice high-pitched with worry. "How are you now?" Alicia exhaled deeply, kicking off her shoes carelessly. "I've been better," she murmured. Monica's anger bubbled over, her words sharp and unrelenting. "Joshua's beyond disgusting! If he doesn't want to stay married, he should just grow a spine and divorce you already! What kind of sick man would scheme against his own wife?" The sharp pain of betrayal shot through Alicia's chest. Yesterday was their second anniversary. Joshua had texted her, suggesting they celebrate. Daring to hope he had changed, she had dressed up to the nine's, only to be met with disappointment and a d*ug-laced drink that sent her spiraling into a night of confusion and chaos. Was Joshua really the mastermind behind this? Swallowing the bitterness that tried clawing its way to the surface, Alicia forced herself to climb the stairs, her movements slow and weary. "It's fine, Monica. I'll handle it." Monica, ever protective, wasn't convinced. "'Handle it'? What do you mean you'll handle it? Just say the word, and I'll be over in a heartbeat." Alicia couldn't help the small, tired smile that tugged at her lips, hanging up the phone. But her heart still felt heavy, just as she lost focus, the door to her bedroom creaked open. She lifted her gaze, and almost instantly, her stomach dropped. There, fresh from a shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, stood Joshua. He stared down at her. Chapter 2 Divorce Alicia snapped out of her daze as soon as she met the icy gaze of Joshua, her so-called husband. His expression remained unchanged, cold and indifferent as ever, as though he was looking at a stranger. The only thing out of place was the scars on his lips. A wave of disgust washed over her, she pushed him away and was about to enter. Joshua frowned, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist. "Alicia, what's with the attitude?" He seemed quite unhappy with her this time, which was a rare thing, considering how little he bothered to come home. Normally, Alicia would have welcomed him back with open arms, a flicker of joy lighting up her tired features, but today she looked drained, almost hollow. She didn't resist his grip, meeting his gaze with a calmness that unnerved him. "Haven't I always been like this? Obedient, sensible, making sure the house is in order, ensuring you're comfortable, ready to give your best at work." A small, bitter smile tugged at her lips. "Isn't that what you like most about me? It makes things easier for you, doesn't it? Frees up time for your other... 'special someone'." Joshua's eyes darkened at the veiled accusation. Denial hovered on his lips, but he didn't bother. Why should he? He dropped her hand and said gruffly, "Actually, that's why I'm here. We need to talk." Alicia vigorously rubbed her wrist, as though she was trying to erase his touch. "So, are you planning to finally go public with her?" Joshua's expression twisted instantly, his calm facade cracking. "What do you know? Did you have me stalked by a private investigator or something?" Alicia let out a soft, humorless laugh. "Is that necessary? Last night, you spared no expense to make her happy. Even a blind person could tell you're mad about her." He stared at her, unsettled by her icy tone. It was still her voice, still Alicia, but there was something different about her... For some reason, he felt inexplicably hurt, like a thorn pricking his heart. Perhaps it was the way she looked at him now--her eyes, once warm and filled with love for him, were now completely empty. There was no anger, no pain, just... nothing. It was a stark contrast to the woman who used to look at him as if he were her entire world. For reasons he couldn't explain, the sight of her like this stirred something in him, an unfamiliar dissatisfaction. Annoyed by his own reaction, Joshua decided to hit back, his voice harder now. "She's pregnant. It's a delicate pregnancy, so I bought her a little something to lift her spirits." Alicia's fists clenched before she could stop them. P**gnant? So, the nights she had stayed up waiting for him to come home, he'd been with another woman, working diligently to start a new family? Seeing Alicia wince a little, Joshua felt a flicker of satisfaction. "It's not that I don't want to touch you," he said, voice dripping with condescension. "You're just about as thrilling as watching paint dry. No man would want that." His cruel words pierced through Alicia, yet she managed to remain composed on the surface. It wasn't that she avoided intimacy; she just wasn't the one to initiate it. Did that make her so undesirable? Was it a sin? Taking a slow, steady breath, Alicia willed herself to stay calm. "Fine," she replied quietly. "Let's get a divorce then. You can give her the title she wants." The word "divorce" made Joshua's eyelid twitch involuntarily. He scoffed, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Is this another one of your games?" Convinced he was right, his voice grew colder, more biting. "Alicia, for two years, you've pulled every childish stunt, begging for my attention. Aren't you tired yet? Because I sure as hell am." He paused, letting his disdain sink in. "You claim to love me so much. Could you really walk away from me?" Alicia couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped her. Love him? Did he even understand what that meant? When Joshua's business had crumbled, leaving him with nothing but debt and shattered dreams, it had been Alicia who emptied her savings to pull him from the wreckage. Out of gratitude--or maybe obligation--he had married her. For two long years, she had been the dutiful wife, supporting him as he clawed his way to success. And what had Alicia gotten in return? She had been cast aside like a useless relic, while another woman carried his child. Her love, her loyalty, had been ground into the dirt beneath his feet. To care for this man any longer would be masochism. Her voice steady, Alicia said, "Draft the divorce agreement. I'll agree to whatever terms you want." And with that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving Joshua standing alone in the hallway. For a moment, he stared after her angrily, but then a cold, mocking smile tugged at his lips. Fine, she can play the martyr. He doubted she could keep it up for long. Storming out of the house, Joshua headed straight to the apartment where his lover, Lilliana Green, awaited him. "Well, that was fast," she teased upon hearing Joshua was getting a divorce, raising a brow. "Seems she wasn't as tough to deal with as you claimed." "She's cunning," Joshua muttered, the edge of suspicion creeping into his voice. "I don't know if she's actually agreeing to the divorce or just playing me." Lilliana's arms draping lazily around his neck, "Relax, Joshua, even if she changes her mind, it's too late." Joshua's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Chapter 3 Letting Go Lilliana's eyes flickered with shadowy intent. She wasn't foolish enough to show her cards now, so she waved it off with an effortless excuse. "During your two-year marriage, she has lived quietly in the shadows as a mere housewife, disconnected from your world. When you're assertive, would she dare to say a word?" Joshua pursed his lips into a hard line. During the past two years, Alicia had indeed done everything for him--given him support and solace. She had loved him fiercely, but at the end of it all, what value did love truly hold? Against all odds, he had clawed his way to the top, and he'd finally grasped the power he craved. That success, however, hadn't come easy, and it wasn't love that secured his position--it was alliances with the powerful. The prestige of the Green family daughter, that title alone, was worth far more than Alicia's devoted love. As these thoughts plagued his mind, Lilliana said happily, "Joshua, congratulations on escaping the grind. Shall we celebrate?" For a moment, Joshua's gaze flickered down to her, but Alicia's indifferent face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Since leaving the house earlier, Alicia hadn't once called him to ask for his whereabouts. Before, if he had been upset with her, she would've called him in a panic. A sharp, inexplicable irritation surged within him. Without thinking, he pushed Lilliana back, "You're only a few weeks' pregnant. Be careful." Lilliana, sharp as ever, sensed he was distracted. "Joshua, what's wrong?" she asked gently. "Don't you want to get divorced?" Joshua's response was instant. "Of course I want to divorce her." Her eyes narrowed as she studied him. "Then why don't you seem very happy?" Joshua offered a quick excuse, his voice steady but distant. "My father's condition has worsened. He doesn't have much time left, and Caden returned last night. He's likely here to claim his inheritance. I need to figure out how to handle him." Lilliana blinked, momentarily thrown. "Caden? Your brother from your father's first marriage? He doesn't even carry the Yates name anymore. What right does he have to fight you for the inheritance?" Joshua's expression darkened. It was true--but at the end of the day, he was still the son of a home-wrecker. All these years of relentless effort had not only been to carve out a name for himself in the Yates family, but to push Caden into the shadows where he belonged. One way or another, Joshua was hell-bent on winning. Meanwhile, Alicia stirred from her sleep. Darkness had already fallen, yet she felt even more drained than before. It was because her dreams revolved around that stranger. when her phone buzzed with a call from Monica did she snap out of her daze. "Alicia, I got your bl**d test results. I passed them to a friend of mine with some serious connections. He's digging around to see who bought the stuff." Alicia sat up a little straighter, her mind sharpening. "Thanks, Monica. Appreciate it." "If you really want to thank me, do me a favor: stop obsessing over that j**k. And after the divorce, focus on your career. You owe me that much." Alicia's chest warmed, her head lowering in quiet gratitude. "I know, I know." Now that she thought about it, she had come to the realization that her feelings for Joshua had never been pure love--they were born out of a debt, a sense of obligation. Her family's expectations had always weighed heavily on her, and in that lonely, stifled childhood, it was Joshua who had been there. His companionship had nurtured a vague affection she'd confused for love. "Lucky for me, love's never been something I've held onto tightly," Alicia murmured. "These last two years... I'll just see it as repaying his kindness." Monica paused, her usual boldness tempered with thoughtfulness. She knew better than anyone how, once upon a time, Joshua had indeed loved Alicia. But, it turned out love could be a fleeting thing. "Alicia, I really hope you've let go for good," Monica said with a convicted sigh. A sharp pang hit Alicia's chest, her eyes stinging as she fought back the urge to cry. Quickly, she pressed her hand to her eyelids, refusing to let the tears fall. It was only then she noticed something startling. Stunned, she stared at her hand. The wedding ring--something she had once held onto so tightly--was gone. Gone for a whole day and night, and she hadn't even noticed. Suddenly, her heart felt lighter, the weight of everything she'd been carrying beginning to lift. She whispered, more to herself than anyone, "Yes, I've truly let go." ... It didn't take long for Joshua to notice. He had returned to grab something quickly when his eyes fell on her hand. His brow furrowed as he asked, without thinking, "Where's your wedding ring?" Chapter 4 Her Nemesis Alicia's only concern now was leaving Joshua, so she ignored his question and asked flatly, "Are the divorce papers ready yet?" That word again--"divorce". Irritation flickered across Joshua's eyes. "What's the rush?" he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. "My father's finalizing his will, and if word gets out about my divorce, it'll ruin my standing. Now, pack your things--we're having dinner at the Yates Mansion this afternoon." With Caden's return, the family was throwing a welcome-home dinner for him. They also hoped that by doing so, it'd lift the spirits of Jerald Yates, Joshua's father. However, maintaining the charade of a happy marriage was the last thing on Alicia's mind. "I'm not going," she announced curtly. "Just get the divorce finalized and stop wasting my time." Joshua laughed, a sound that held no warmth. "Oh, come on, Alicia. Stop pretending. You hid the ring because you don't actually want to leave me, right? You can't stand the thought of being without me." He leaned in, smirking, and added, "You've worked hard these past two years. Even if we divorce, I'll still take care of you--as long as you keep me happy." Alicia's eyes widened, disbelief turning into anger. Hid the ring? Couldn't bear to be without him? His arrogant words sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Alicia's ears. With a sharp sneer, she shot back, "Oh, Mr. Yates, how could I possibly make you happy? Don't worry, I'll return the ring--wouldn't want this plain Jane to irk you, right? Once you have it, we're finalizing the divorce immediately." But Joshua wasn't fazed by her venom. He thought he knew her too well, convinced this was just another ploy to get his attention. Without thinking too much, he tossed a bag at her. "We've got guests today. Dress appropriately, and don't make me look bad." Alicia looked down at the bag, her mind flashing back to the countless times she had visited the mansion dressed in modest, unassuming clothes-- doing everything to blend in, to please him and his family. But now, with their divorce looming on the horizon, Alicia no longer cared to play the part of a dutiful wife. After slipping into the outfit, she carefully applied a touch of makeup, just enough to bring out the vibrance in her already flawless complexion. The subtle enhancements accentuated her smooth skin and delicate features, lending her a certain glow. When Joshua saw her descending the staircase, he froze for a brief moment, eyes lingering. Perhaps it was the way the dress hugged Alicia's graceful curves, making her seem more alluring than usual. At the entrance of the Yates Mansion, they both slipped into their familiar roles, masking the tension between them with practiced ease. Alicia casually looped her arm through Joshua's, their movements synchronized as they walked into the courtyard. Though Jerald was too ill to receive anyone, the grand hall bustled with life, relatives filling the space with chatter. The noise hummed around her, but for some reason, as soon as Alicia crossed the threshold, a sharp chill pricked at her skin. She instinctively looked up, her gaze immediately drawn to the figure lounging casually at the far end of the room. Legs crossed, dark shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a sliver of his collarbone, the man oozed arrogance, his presence commanding. When Alicia's eyes finally met his-- a familiar, authoritative stare that pinned her in place-- her mind raced as emotions began to surge uncontrollably. Joshua noticed the shift in her demeanor, his brows furrowing as he asked, "What's going on with you?" Alicia's breath caught in her throat. One word escaped her lips, barely audible. "Caden?" Just the mention of his name sent a chill down her spine. To her, Caden was the embodiment of her nightmares. Due to their families' friendship, their paths first crossed at the tender age of ten. Caden, having taken a year off, transferred to her school, and from that moment, Alicia's perfect world began to unravel. She could no longer claim the top spot. No matter how relentless her efforts, no matter how late she stayed up studying, Caden was always a step ahead. He would outscore her by the smallest of margins--a point, maybe two--leaving her perpetually stranded in second place. Anyone else might have accepted defeat, settled into the role of runner-up. But not Alicia. Born into the once prestigious Bennett family, she was raised under the suffocating weight of living up to her family name. Excellence wasn't just a goal--it was the currency by which she could earn her parents' affection. Failure was not an option, yet Caden had the audacity to snatch away everything she'd worked for with what seemed like effortless ease. It was as if he'd set his sights on her from the very beginning, and Alicia, stubborn to a fault, refused to back down. Their rivalry spanned over a decade, a relentless battle fought both openly and in the shadows, and their final showdown took place in college, just before their graduation, at the national competition. Alicia poured her heart and soul into that moment, her focus razor-sharp as she aimed for nothing less than perfection. And she achieved it, having garnered a perfect score. But Caden, ever the serpent, had bribed the judges, twisting the results in his favor. Alicia was forced, once again, into second place. The sting of injustice was deep, but the harshest blow came from her father, Phil Bennett. Over the phone, his voice dripped with disappointment in her ranking. Alicia, having grown accustomed to his tirades, said nothing. She waited for his anger to ebb, then asked quietly, "I'm graduating soon. Will you come back?" Her mother, Donna, had always been her softer solace. She comforted Alicia that day, promising they'd be there for her graduation. But life had other plans. Phil and Donna, rushing back from Itrubisite to attend the graduation, perished in a tragic plane crash. Overnight, Alicia's world crumbled, left an orphan in this cruel world. Since that day, she had never challenged Caden again. Afterward, Caden left Warrington to build his career overseas. ... "He's back for the inheritance," Joshua muttered, his voice barely audible. Alicia cast him a sidelong glance as he continued, "With a family empire as big as ours, an eldest son like him wouldn't give up so easily." Her brow furrowed slightly. It was true--the Yates empire was massive, a legacy most would kill for. But Caden had accumulated his own fortune, surpassing even the family's vast wealth. Did he really care about the inheritance? Then again, this was Caden. Competing was in his blood. Even if he didn't care about the fortune itself, he'd fight tooth and nail just to win, to toy with everyone else. The man had a knack for stirring chaos purely for his own amusement. Alicia had been his rival for as long as she could remember, and even now, the thought of giving him so much as a glance felt like a waste of energy. She turned to walk away. But Joshua caught her wrist, his grip firm yet tense. "I know you two don't get along," he said. "But he's still my elder brother. We need to maintain appearances." Her body stiffened at the touch, and she immediately tried to pull her hand free. Joshua's frown deepened. "Alicia, behave," he hissed. Irritation flared in her chest. "I'm not refusing to go in. Just let go of me first. I don't want your filthy hands touching me." A flicker of something dark passed over Joshua's face, and instead of releasing her, he intertwined their fingers, squeezing them tight. Alicia bit her tongue, silently fuming. As they neared, Caden's gaze slowly lifted, his eyes narrowing in a lazy, almost bored assessment of them. "Caden," Joshua greeted, his tone strained, meeting his brother's gaze with forced cordiality. Caden's eyes flicked to their entwined hands, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your girlfriend?" he asked indifferently, as though he didn't recognize Alicia. Chapter 5 We Meet Again So Soon Alicia's nerves coiled tight like a spring. That voice... Her messy thoughts blurred into chaos, but one thing broke through the haze--Joshua's calm declaration. "Alicia and I have been married for two years now. She cares about me, so we kept it low-key. Just went straight for the registration; no ceremony. You were busy abroad at the time, so we didn't bother you." Caden arched a brow, his voice laced with venomous mockery. "Oh, so she's my sister-in-law." The way he spat the words "sister-in-law" felt more like a s*ap than a title, leaving no doubt about his contempt for her. Alicia could feel the man's sneer underneath every syllable. And all this was thanks to her so-called husband, Joshua. Her hand trembled as she snatched a tissue, vigorously wiping her hand. "Looks like Alicia's a bit of a germophobe," Caden observed, his tone a casual jab at her disgust. Joshua's expression darkened, the tension between them thickening. He hadn't expected her to humiliate him like this. "It seems I've spoiled her too much," he muttered, his voice low and tight with irritation. Caden's eyes gleamed with a dangerous glint. "If it's a serious condition, she should get treated. It could impact her role as a mother. You know how badly our father has wanted a grandchild." At this, something flickered across Joshua's eyes. Even though Alicia, his wife, was right beside him, he went ahead and lied through his teeth. "Thanks for the concern, Caden, but I already have good news for Dad. I just haven't gotten around to telling him yet." Caden's smirk deepened, his gaze flicking toward Alicia, who was about done with the bullshit of a charade. She quietly excused herself and strode off. "How far along is she?" he asked meaningfully. "Doesn't seem like she's pregnant." Joshua didn't miss a beat. "Just a month." The answer was as much a threat as it was an announcement. Now, the inheritance stakes had just been raised, and Jerald, ever focused on continuing the family line, would certainly take his unborn grandchild into consideration. Caden's smile hardened, and Joshua delivered the final blow with a smug undertone. "You'd better catch up, Caden. I can't always be one step ahead." Caden, unfazed, waved his hand lazily. "No rush." ... Alicia stepped onto the terrace, the cool night breeze washing over her skin. She drank in the fresh air hungrily to steady her nerves. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed the manager of the private cinema again. "Have you found the ring?" she asked anxiously. The manager hesitated, sounding troubled. "Ms. Bennett, we've searched thoroughly and questioned all the staff, but... we really couldn't find any ring." "Then..." Alicia clenched her fist, her mind racing. "Do you have the contact details of the guest who booked the room that day?" "I'm sorry, but due to our privacy policy, we can't disclose any information on our clients." Her heart sank. "I see," she sighed with resignation. "Please tell me immediately if anything turns up, okay?" In a perfect world, she could've just bought an identical ring and pass it off for the original. Unfortunately, Joshua had that ring custom-made, and it wasn't easy to replicate. After dinner, it started to rain. The relatives began to trickle out one by one. Joshua stood by her side as they made their way to the car, his eyes trailing down to her bare wrist. "If you liked that bracelet at the auction, then I can buy you something like it," he said coolly. Alicia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes sardonically. She didn't believe for a second that Joshua had a change of heart towards her. "Trying to buy my silence, huh?" Her words were sharp, slicing right through Joshua's tender facade. "No need. I have no desire to be tangled up in your affairs." Joshua hadn't intended to sound like that, but her mocking tone struck a nerve. His jaw clenched, and a bitter smile crossed his lips. "Fine. Don't take it. The money I spend on you is a waste anyway." Alicia bit the inside of her cheek before adding firmly, "Joshua, I already told you. I'm willing to leave this marriage empty-handed. Let's sign the divorce papers tomorrow morning and end this once and for all." His smile twisted into something dark, something dangerous. "What about the ring?" "I lost it." Joshua's eyes narrowed, his tone unrelenting. "I don't care about anything else. I want the ring." She could barely contain her frustration, her breath hitching as he delivered his final blow. "If you can't find it," he said coldly, "I'll assume you're holding onto it because you still care about me." Just then, Joshua's phone rang; it was Lilliana calling. "Joshua." She mewled his name pitifully. "The thunder is so loud. I'm scared to sleep alone... Can you come over?" The car wasn't heading anywhere near Lilliana's and Joshua was furious with Alicia, so without a second thought, he kicked her out into the rain and sped off. He didn't even leave her an umbrella. Alicia stood frozen by the roadside, the downpour quickly soaking through her clothes. The cold rain seeped into her bones, chilling her to the core. Gritting her chattering teeth, she swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and began trudging along the drenched pavement. Behind her, the soft hum of an engine crept closer. A sleek, low-profile Maybach rolled up beside her, its headlights cutting through the rain. "Mr. Ward," the driver said, glancing back, "I believe that's Ms. Bennett." The car slowed to a stop. Caden glanced out the window, his sharp eyes narrowing on Alicia's lonesome figure. She had just paused, her fingers gathering the fabric of her soaked dress, tying it up to ease her stride. Caden's lips curled into a faint. "Invite her inside," he drawled. The car came to a halt next to Alicia. The driver stepped out, holding a large umbrella over her head, his voice polite. "Ms. Bennett, it's hard to find a cab at this hour. May I offer you a ride home?" Alicia's eyes flicked up, recognizing the man as the Yates family's driver. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you. Sorry for the inconvenience." However, as soon as she slipped into the backseat of the car, she locked eyes with its other passenger--Caden. "We meet again so soon, sister-in-law?" His voice, smooth as velvet, carried a hint of mischief. ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-e | Good Story | https://www.facebook.com/100090635329790/ | 760 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.moboreader.net | VIDEO | https://fbweb.moboreader.net/63310322-fb_contact-ena265_2-1025-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=638434121690371&rawadid=120217275282710091 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468423601_1862943567902806_5693473928043500936_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=bDh6K2lk5pkQ7kNvgGPHcax&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJ5nE5rtMFhycgyqQTxwQcC&oh=00_AYCQfg-LhlIyzy8iOLvw-lhSrlfgJmb5Jh3sCL6EKXN-Xw&oe=675EB12D | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Good Story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yes | 2024-12-10 20:43 | active | 1989 | 0 |
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No | 2024-12-10 20:42 | active | 1989 | 0 |
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He drunkenly hugged her “Call me husband again ......” | 💔Nyla Jayston was in her third month of trying to conceive when she saw a message on her husband Clark Sumner's phone from a contact named "Jordyn Cheatham". Jordyn: [I think my new nightgown is a bit tight. Why don't you come over and check if it fits?] Attached was a selfie of a woman in a deep V-neck red slip dress, her body partly exposed, exuding seduction. Nyla's grip on the phone tightened. She scrolled up and found Clark and Jordyn's previous exchanges to be strictly work-related, which made her frown. 'Was the text sent by mistake? Or…' A hand wrapped around Nyla's waist from behind, breaking her thoughts. Clark pressed his warm body against hers and gently nibbled her earlobe. "Honey, I'm all cleaned up. Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?" Before Nyla could respond, Clark picked her up and laid her on the couch, his tall frame looming over her. "Since you're not saying anything, I'll choose. Let's do it on the couch," Clark said, his voice husky and his eyes filled with a flicker of fire that made Nyla blush instantly. Nyla was already beautiful, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look like a tempting, ripe, juicy peach under the light. Clark's gaze grew darker. He leaned in to kiss Nyla, but she suddenly turned her head away. Sensing her resistance, he looked at her with confusion. "Honey, what's wrong?" Clark, usually assertive at work, now looked at Nyla with a mix of confusion and hurt, which softened her heart momentarily. Despite that, she hadn't forgotten the explicit selfie she had just seen. She stopped him with one hand on his chest and held up his phone with the other, showing him the screen. "Explain this first." Clark glanced at the screen and immediately frowned, grabbing the phone to make a call. It was quickly answered. "Mr. Sumner, what can I do for you?" Clark glowered, and his voice turned icy. "I didn’t know my secretary started soliciting clients." There was a moment of silence before Jordyn's panicked voice came through. "M-Mr. Sumner, I'm sorry. That message was meant for my boyfriend. I must have sent it to you by mistake..." "Next time it happens, pack your things and leave!" Clark hung up and looked back at Nyla, his expression softening, even showing a hint of grievance. "Honey, she sent it by mistake. If you're still upset, I'll fire her tomorrow. It's late now, so let’s not waste time on someone unworthy. We haven't seen each other in a week. You need to make it up to me tonight." Clark pulled Nyla in for a kiss, but her mood was ruined despite the issue being cleared up. She wasn't in the mood anymore and pushed him away. "I'm tired tonight. Let's continue tomorrow." A flash of disappointment crossed Clark's eyes, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright, you sleep first. I'm not tired yet, so I'll go to the study to handle some work." "Okay." … It started raining heavily in the middle of the night. The sound woke Nyla, and she reached out only to feel the cold space beside her. She glanced at the clock—3:16 a.m. Nyla wondered whether Clark was still working. She got up, put on a robe, and went to the study, but it was dark and empty. Her grip on the doorknob tightened, and her heart sank. Nyla’s phone suddenly chimed, startling her in the quiet night. Seeing that it was a text from a stranger, she had a gut feeling that reading it would mean no turning back for her and Clark. A thunderclap boomed outside, startling her into accidentally pressing it. [Still awake? Because your husband isn't with you?] [I was scared because of the thunder and power outage, and he came to comfort me.] [Don't you want to know where your husband is?] As Nyla read the messages and the boastful tone, her hands trembled uncontrollably. After a long while, another text came in with an address and a series of digits. Nyla bit her lip, grabbed her car keys, and drove straight there. By the time she reached the villa, it was past 4:00 a.m. She entered the code, and the door unlocked. The living room lights were on. From the entrance to the bedroom door, a man's suit and a woman's lingerie were strewn about, revealing the urgency of their actions. Seeing the torn red nightgown at the bedroom door, Nyla felt a sense of absurdity. Although the distance from the entrance to the bedroom was only a few meters, it felt like an eternity to Nyla. Standing at the bedroom door, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She reached out, trembling, and slowly pushed the slightly open door. The sight of the messy bed and the bared couple entwined—their heavy breathing filling the room—pierced Nyla's heart. The couple was so engrossed that they didn't notice her standing there. Nyla's hand on the door frame turned white from gripping it too hard, leaving red marks on her palm. She had been with Clark for eight years, from school days to marriage, envied by everyone around them. Until today, she had never imagined betrayal between them. Now, reality dealt her a cruel blow. Even the most sincere wedding vows couldn't withstand a fickle heart. Unable to bear the sight, Nyla turned and stumbled out, driving away. She stopped by a bar on the way and decided to go in. … By the time Valarie Weir arrived, Nyla had already downed two bottles of whiskey, her gaze slightly unfocused. "Valarie, you're here..." Seeing Nyla surrounded by several men, Valarie frowned. "All of you, leave!" "No, they're fine here—" "I said, leave!" After driving the men away, Valarie sat next to Nyla. "What happened? Did Clark really cheat on you?" Valarie was Nyla's university roommate and had witnessed Nyla and Clark’s journey from school to marriage. She had seen Clark treat Nyla well all these years, so she couldn't believe he would cheat. Upon hearing Clark’s name, Nyla's gaze dimmed, and the heart-wrenching pain came rushing back. "I don't want to hear that name right now." Chapter 2 Nyla downed her drink in one gulp. She had never imagined Clark would betray her. Seeing him in bed with another woman felt like a dagger through her heart. "I just can't believe it. He loved you so much. He didn't seem like the type to cheat. Maybe there's a misunderstanding," Valarie suggested. Nyla let out a cold laugh. "I saw it with my own eyes. How could that be a misunderstanding?" The room fell silent. Watching Nyla drink like there was no tomorrow, Valarie grabbed the glass from her hand. "Even if he cheated, you shouldn't punish yourself by getting drunk. What are you going to do now?" "I'm getting a divorce. Just thinking about him with that woman makes me sick." Upon seeing the defiance in Nyla’s red eyes, Valarie's heart ached. "Don't think about it now. You need to rest. Decide what to do next once you’re calm. I'll take you home." Nyla shook her head. "No... I don't want to go back." Returning to that house would only bring back the sickening images of Clark’s betrayal. Each recollection made her feel nauseous. Seeing Nyla’s reluctance, Valarie didn't insist. "I'll book you a hotel room then." … After booking a room, Valarie took Nyla to the hotel entrance. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you up?" Nyla shook her head. "No, you go rest. I'll be fine." She waved with the room card and walked into the hotel. Seeing Nyla walk steadily, Valarie finally breathed a sigh of relief and drove away once Nyla was inside the hotel. What she didn't know was that Nyla, when drunk, appeared sober but was actually a mess inside. Nyla entered the elevator, scanned her card, and the elevator began to ascend. Soon, the doors opened with a ding. As Nyla stepped out onto the carpet, her legs almost gave out. She steadied herself against the wall, massaging her aching temples while searching for her room number. The wine was taking its toll, and her vision blurred. She found Room 8919 and tried the card on the door. Hearing no beep, she frowned and was about to push the door when it suddenly opened. Nyla froze. Before she could react, a large hand yanked her into the dark room. The door slammed shut, cutting off the light from the hallway. She was pressed against the door, a man's breath hot against her ear, making her shiver. The familiar scent of pine filled her senses, but before she could place it, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers. "Mmph!" Realizing what was happening, Nyla struggled. Damon was strong, and with the wine dulling her strength, her hands felt weak, almost inviting as she pushed against his chest. Damon’s hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire, and her body grew more responsive under his touch. Nyla tried to push him away, but he easily caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. "Let— Mmph! Let me go…" He stopped kissing her and chuckled. "No need to play hard to get." His fingers traced her collar, the cool touch making her shudder. His body heat seemed to melt her, and her legs grew weak. In the dark, Nyla’s senses heightened. She felt Damon unbuttoning her clothes, her mouth dry, her last bit of rationality warning her that this was going too far. "Let me go!" She mustered all her strength to push him, but he simply picked her up and threw her onto the bed. The bed was soft, so Nyla didn’t feel pain, but the impact made her head spin. She tried to get up, but Damon pinned her down. Soon, her clothes were gone, and they were both nearly bared. He pressed against her, ready. His dominating presence made her tremble. She pushed against his chest, biting her lip to stay calm and clear-headed. "Mister, I think I entered the wrong room. Please let me go…" Nyla’s voice shook with tension. "Tsk!" Damon's voice was impatient, his tone cold. "Still playing?" He was about to get up and kick Nyla out when the room light suddenly came on. Nyla had accidentally hit the light switch in her struggle. The sudden light made Damon squint. He was shocked when he saw the terrified woman beneath him. Nyla, recognizing Damon, felt the blood drain from her face. The fear sobered her instantly. She couldn’t believe it—the man who almost violated her was Clark’s uncle, Damon Summer! "Uncle Damon…" Nyla had always been wary of Damon. He was the youngest son of Richard Sumner and Marie Thorne, doted on by them and known for his unpredictable, cold nature. Even outsiders avoided crossing him. When she married Clark, he had warned her to steer clear of Damon. "Shut up!" Damon's face was dark, his gaze icy, as he contemplated whether to silence her for good. Then, his eyes shifted to her bare body, darkening further. He turned away, getting off the bed. "Get dressed and get out!" As Damon moved, Nyla caught a glimpse of him where she shouldn't, and her face turned red with embarrassment. Upon seeing her flushed face, Damon's expression soured even more. "Still not leaving?" Nyla could not care less about her embarrassment as she hastily dressed and left without looking back. Once outside, she checked the room number and realized her mistake—it wasn’t Room 8919, but Room 8916! She had entered the wrong room and almost slept with her husband’s uncle. The thought made her headache worse. She should have let Valarie take her up. Unfortunately, it was too late for regrets now. After Nyla left, Damon dialed a number with a glower on his face. "Delete all surveillance footage from the Empire Skyview Hotel tonight!" Upon hanging up, he looked at the messy bed and sheets, his irritation growing. He had almost slept with his nephew’s wife... What a mess! Chapter 3 On Nyla's way back, she hesitated for a long time before finally messaging Damon, someone whose contact she had had for three years but had never contacted. Nyla: [Uncle Damon... Can we pretend tonight never happened? I was really drunk and went to the wrong room.] She waited for a long time, but there was no response from Damon. Frowning, she sent another message. Nyla: [?] As soon as she sent it, a red exclamation mark appeared: [You are no longer friends with this user. Please send a friend request to continue chatting.] Nyla bit her lip. Damon had deleted her. He must not want to bring this up again. Relieved, she finally felt a bit of peace. … When Nyla got home, it was already past 6:00 a.m. As soon as she opened the door, she saw Clark sitting on the sofa. He turned sharply at the sound of the door, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. "Where were you last night? I called you dozens of times. Why didn’t you answer?" Clark stood up and walked quickly toward her, reaching out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. He froze, about to speak, but she spoke first, her tone icy. "You can stay out all night, but I can't?" Nyla had always been gentle. In their eight years together, they had hardly ever argued. This was the first time she had spoken to him so coldly. Clark sensed something was wrong and noticed her red, swollen eyes. His expression changed, and his hand clenched at his side. "You know, don't you?" His voice was calm, without a trace of guilt or panic, as if he had expected this day to come. Upon seeing his unapologetic demeanor, Nyla's long-suppressed emotions finally exploded. She swung her bag at him, her eyes red with fury, like a madwoman. All the good times they had shared, all the happy moments, were shattered the moment she saw him in bed with another woman. They could never be pieced together again. "Clark Sumner, how could you do something so disgusting?! If you didn’t love me anymore, you could have divorced me. Why did you have to hurt me like this?" Nyla had assumed that no third party could ever come between them. Unfortunately, reality gave her a harsh slap, waking her from the lies he had woven and turning her love for him into a joke. Seeing her red, tear-filled eyes, Clark felt a pang in his chest. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. "Nyla, I’m sorry..." Nyla shoved him away, wanting to laugh but only tears came. "Don’t touch me with your filthy hands! "Is it that hard to stay faithful? "Since we got married, I’ve met many excellent men, and some have shown interest in me. But I’ve never crossed the line. If I can do it, why can’t you?!" Clark clenched his fists when he saw the disappointment and anger in her eyes. "Nyla, you’re the only one I love… It was just an accident with her…" His explanation sounded so weak that Nyla found it both laughable and nauseating. "So you’re saying I could sleep with another man and then tell you it was an accident? That I may have betrayed you physically, but my heart still belongs to you?" A flash of ruthlessness crossed Clark's eyes. "If you dare, I’ll end you and that man together in bed." Seeing his icy gaze, Nyla felt a chill in her heart. If he knew betrayal was unforgivable, why would he still betray her? She took a deep breath and spoke slowly. "Do you remember what I told you when you proposed?" She had said that if he ever betrayed her, she would not forgive him but leave him. Clark’s expression changed. "I will not let you leave!" Nyla wiped her tears, her expression a mixture of ridicule and hatred. "Whether you agree or not, I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness." With that, she ignored his reaction and went upstairs. Clark stared at her back, his gaze dark. … Back in the bedroom, Nyla went straight to the bathroom to shower, unable to stand the smell of wine on herself. While applying body wash, she noticed red marks on her chest and paused. The image of Damon’s hands roaming her body flashed through her mind, making her frown. She scrubbed the marks hard until the skin around them turned red, trying to erase his touch. After her shower, she saw Clark sitting on the bed with his head down, lost in thought. She frowned and decided to ignore him. They would be divorced soon anyway. Clark looked up and saw Nyla coming out in just a towel. Her damp hair dripped water, her freshly washed face flushed like a blooming rose with an enticing fragrance. The towel barely covered her behinds, revealing her long, fair legs. His breath hitched, his gaze glued on her. Nyla didn’t notice Clark's reaction. She walked to the wardrobe to grab her pajamas when a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind. "Nyla..." Clark's voice was husky, filled with undisguised desire. Clark had been thinking about how to win her back downstairs after she left. The only way he could think of was to have a child with her. He had come upstairs to discuss this with her, planning to take it slow. However, he lost control upon seeing her just out of the shower. In the past, such behavior would have stirred Nyla's feelings, but all she felt now was disgust. She turned and pushed him away, her gaze full of revulsion. "Don’t touch me. I feel dirty." Hurt flashed in Clark's eyes. He grabbed her hands, his expression earnest. "Didn’t you always want a child? Let’s have one now, okay?" Nyla shook him off at his matter-of-fact attitude. "That was before. I might have a child in the future, but it won’t be yours." Her words enraged Clark. He grabbed her and threw her onto the bed, pinning her down. "Say that again!" His eyes were full of anger, but Nyla didn’t care. "It doesn’t matter how many times I say it. I’m disgusted by you. I’d rather die than have your child." As soon as she finished speaking, Clark kissed her fiercely. Chapter 4 Nyla froze for a moment, then struggled desperately. Just the thought of Clark kissing another woman the night before filled her with disgust and rage. "Let go!" Her struggles were futile against Clark, who only tightened his grip around her waist. As she fought, her towel loosened, revealing her body. His gaze darkened, and he felt a rush of desire. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, and Nyla quickly noticed the change in Clark. Furious, she bit him hard, tasting blood in their mouths. Instead of letting go, Clark's other hand slipped under Nyla's towel. She had nothing on underneath, having just come out of the shower. She stiffened and struggled even more fiercely. "Clark, get off me!" Clark ignored Nyla, his fingers teasing her sensitive spots. "Nyla, you need me too, don't you?" Nyla’s struggles were in vain, and she grew increasingly desperate. As Clark positioned himself, she closed her eyes in despair. "Clark, don't make me hate you." Clark halted abruptly. Seeing Nyla filled with despair and pain, like a fragile porcelain doll about to shatter, made him pause. He wanted her desperately, but a voice in his head warned that if he took her now, it would be the end of them. He stared at her, his hand tightening around her waist. After several tense seconds, he suddenly let go and got off the bed, leaving the room quickly. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, making Nyla flinch. She clutched the blanket tightly. … For the next few days, Clark didn't come home. Nyla called him several times to discuss the divorce, but he didn't respond. … The weekend arrived. Nyla was in the living room, sending out job applications when she heard the front door open. Clark walked in, looking haggard. They stared at each other in silence until Nyla broke it, closing her laptop and standing up calmly. "Since you're back, let's talk about the divorce." Clark frowned. "I told you, I won't divorce you. I'm here to remind you that we have to go to the family dinner tonight." The Sumners held a monthly dinner, and ever since their wedding, Clark and Nyla had attended together. The family wasn't kind to Nyla, often treating her poorly. She endured it because she believed Clark loved her. After seeing him with another woman, however, she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I don't want to go. Go by yourself." Clark’s expression turned impatient. "Nyla, how long are you going to keep this up?" He had ignored her calls and messages, hoping she would calm down, but she was still the same. "I'm not keeping anything up. I just want a divorce." Upon hearing the word "divorce", Clark's patience wore thin. He looked at Nyla as if she were unreasonable. "Divorce? You haven't worked since we got married. How will you support yourself? Which company would hire you? And what about your father's exorbitant medical bills? Can you afford those? "Nyla, you're not a teenager anymore. You're 28. It's time to grow up. "I'm the CEO of the Sumner Group. I face temptations all the time. Sometimes, it's hard to resist, but those women will never take your place as my wife. What more do you want?" Clark couldn't understand why Nyla didn't see that he still loved her, even if he couldn't commit to being with her forever. Seeing Clark’s arrogant demeanor, Nyla couldn't reconcile this man with the shy boy who had once blushed while confessing his love and promising never to hurt her. Maybe this was his true self—selfish, proud, and condescending. "If being mature means tolerating your infidelity, then I'm sorry, I can't do that. Find someone else. Here are the divorce papers I've had drafted. Sign them when you have time." Clark glanced at the documents, sneering when he saw the section on asset division. "Quite the appetite you have, asking for half my assets. Do you really think that's possible?" "I deserve it. Why not?" Clark chuckled, his tone mocking. "Look around this house. Did you buy anything here? I've been covering your father's medical expenses for years. If we tally things up, you should be paying me. Should I have my lawyer do the math?" As Nyla watched his bitter expression, she couldn't believe she had once loved this man. He had hidden his true self so well that, until she caught him cheating, she had thought he was a great guy. "Don't forget, if it weren't for me giving you that patent, you wouldn't be the Sumner Group's CEO. And you were the one who told me to stay home after we got married. If I had continued my research, I would have earned far more than what you've given me." Unfazed, Clark replied, "Who would believe you about the patent now? "I don't want to argue about money, but if you insist on a divorce, we'll have to settle accounts. Nyla, as long as you drop the divorce idea, my money is still yours to use." "Clark, you're despicable!" Since he refused to divorce, she'd have to sue. She turned to leave, but he blocked her. "Change your clothes. We're going to the family dinner." "I said I'm not going. Tell them I'm not feeling well." Clark grabbed her wrist. "Nyla, I'm running out of patience. Don't force me to cut off your father's medical expenses." "You wouldn't dare!" Clark took out his phone and called his secretary. "Cancel my father-in-law's medical payment for next month—" Furious, Nyla grabbed his phone and ended the call. "You're crossing a line, Clark." "Crossing a line?" Clark's gaze was full of contempt as he yanked her closer. "Everything you have is because of me. Don't you think you're the one crossing the line? Change your clothes, or I have numerous ways to make you comply." Chapter 5 Seeing the coldness in Clark's eyes, Nyla realized how blind she had been to fall in love with such a man. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to show any vulnerability in front of him. She yanked her hand away, took a deep breath, and headed upstairs. The only thought in her mind was to find a job quickly so she could move out and divorce Clark. She grabbed a random outfit, tied her hair up with a hairpin, and went back downstairs. She was never one to fuss over her appearance. In the past, she had dressed up for the Sumners' gatherings to make a good impression. Now, she couldn't care less. Hearing her footsteps, Clark looked up. Nyla wore a fitted white dress, her waist so slender it seemed it could be encircled with one hand. Her hair was secured with a jade hairpin, revealing her delicate neck. She was breathtakingly beautiful. The grace she exuded was just like when they first met. However, the look in her eyes now was devoid of any warmth. "Let’s go," she said. They drove to the Sumner residence in silence. As they arrived and were about to get out of the car, a black Range Rover sped up and stopped abruptly in front of them. Upon recognizing the car, Clark's expression darkened. It was Damon's car, someone he both feared and disliked. Damon was known for his reckless and unpredictable behavior. He had refused to take over the Sumner Group when Richard wanted him to run the company, choosing to start his own business instead. Everyone had expected him to fail, but within five years, his company had grown to be worth several times more than the Sumner Group. Clark couldn't stand Damon, partly out of jealousy. Once, a comment Clark made about Damon reached Damon's ears, and in retaliation, Damon refused to collaborate with the Sumner Group, costing them millions. Damon rarely attended family dinners, and Clark had hoped to avoid him. Luck wasn’t on his side today—they met at the door. He didn’t notice Nyla’s stiffened expression when she saw Damon get out of his car. Clark opened the car door and greeted, "Uncle Damon." Damon glanced at him indifferently, his gaze briefly landing on the passenger seat before he nodded and walked into the house. Nyla let out a deep breath. When Damon looked her way, she had forgotten to breathe, fearing he might say something outrageous. He was known for his unpredictable nature, always doing whatever he pleased. Fortunately, he said nothing. She decided she needed to talk to him privately later. As Clark and Nyla walked into the living room, they saw it was already filled with people. Richard and Marie, the family heads, were chatting with Damon. He was the kind of person who naturally stood out in a crowd. Noticing Nyla’s gaze on Damon, Clark frowned. "Why are you staring at my uncle?" Nyla withdrew her gaze and replied coolly, "None of your business." Her coldness irritated Clark. "Nyla, you know I don’t like you paying attention to other men." Ever since they got together, Clark had been extremely controlling, not allowing Nyla to interact with other men. She used to think this was a sign of his love, but now it seemed laughable. She sneered. "And I don’t like you sleeping with other women, but you seem to enjoy it just fine." Clark said through gritted teeth, "This is a family dinner. We’ll deal with this later." "If you don’t want me to bring it up, then stay out of my business," she retorted. Clark didn’t want to cause a scene now because it might affect the Sumner Group and his standing with Richard, who still held all the company’s shares. As they talked, Marie called out, "Nyla, Clark, you’re here! Come sit down!" Nyla took a deep breath, forcing a smile as she approached. She might not like the Sumners, but she maintained basic manners. "Hello, Grandpa, Grandma," she greeted with a smile. Marie, who had been urging Damon to settle down and get married, looked pleased to see the couple. "Come, sit down." She turned to Damon with a hint of dissatisfaction. "Look at Clark. He manages the company well and has a beautiful wife. They might have children soon. And you? Almost 30 and still single. If you don’t bring a girlfriend next time, don’t bother coming!" Damon glanced at the couple with a smirk. "She is indeed beautiful." He just wondered how that petite frame would suffer if she were to have children. Nyla frowned, feeling uncomfortable with Damon’s gaze. Clark also noticed the inappropriate way Damon looked at Nyla. It wasn’t the look of an elder but more like a man admiring a woman. His hand clenched into a fist, and his body tensed. Marie sighed. "My point is, when will you bring me a daughter-in-law?" "Depends. If I meet someone I like, maybe I’ll bring her back tomorrow," Damon replied nonchalantly. "You’re too picky! I’ve arranged a good match for you. Date's tomorrow, don’t ruin it." "Then you’ll probably have to apologize to another old friend tomorrow." Frustrated, Marie snapped, “You’re going to drive me crazy!” Damon glanced at Clark. “Clark's been married for years. Instead of pushing me, why don’t you encourage him to have kids?” Marie nodded, realizing Damon wouldn’t listen to her. She turned to Nyla and Clark, her expression softening. “Nyla, you and Clark have been married for a few years now. When are you planning to have children?” Chapter 6 Nyla lifted her head to speak, but Clark grabbed her hand and smiled. "Grandma, we're working on it!" Nyla tried to pull her hand away, but Clark's grip was too tight. If he wouldn't let her be, she wouldn't make it easy for him either. She turned to Marie. "Grandma, I'm looking for a job right now, so having children might have to wait." The room fell silent. Clark's grip on Nyla's hand tightened painfully, and she winced. Damon glanced at Clark's hand on Nyla, noticing the bulging veins, then looked away indifferently. Clark’s aunt, Anne Sumner, sneered. "Nyla, don't blame me for being blunt. You've been married for years. How can you not have a child yet? If it weren't for Clark insisting on marrying you, do you think your family could have ever married into the Sumners? "You should be grateful. If you don't want to have Clark's child, there are plenty of women who do. If someone else steps in, you’ll be the one looking silly." Besides, Anne thought, "Who knows if Nyla is fertile?" She sounded like she meant well, but her gaze at Nyla was filled with an air of superiority. Marie frowned at Anne, disapproving. "Anne, enough." Anne pursed her lips but stayed silent. Marie turned back to Nyla with a kind smile. "Nyla, you and Clark are still young. If you don't want children yet, that's fine. Just don't overwork yourself. Our family isn't short on money. You can work if you want, but take it easy." Nyla nodded. "I understand, Grandma." With that, the awkward moment passed, and the room returned to its previous warmth. Seeing the attention shift away, Clark pulled Nyla out of the living room. Once they reached the gazebo in the backyard, he released her. "Nyla, have you lost your mind? Do you want everyone to know about our fight?" Nyla rubbed her sore hand and said, "I was just being honest." "Honest?" Clark scowled. "Should I call your father then?" Harrison Jayston was ill and couldn't handle stress. Nyla planned to divorce Clark before breaking the news to him gently. She glared at Clark. "You wouldn’t dare! You were the one who cheated. What right do you have to be so self-righteous?" Clark clenched his hands, a flicker of guilt crossing his face before it was replaced by impatience. "I promised it wouldn’t happen again. If you don't want to see Jordyn, I'll fire her. What more do you want?" Nyla felt like there was a communication breakdown between them and turned away. "I don't want to argue with you here." When Clark saw her red-rimmed eyes, he softened. "Nyla, I truly know I was wrong. Just don't mention divorce, and I'll make it up to you. I love you. I can't let you go." Nyla found it laughable. How could he claim to love her while being with another woman? Just thinking about him with someone else made her sick. "I will never forgive you." Betrayal was her bottom line. She couldn’t pretend nothing had happened or reconcile with him. Clark knew Nyla well enough to understand that he had to be patient. He believed she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, she would have made a bigger scene when she found out. As long as he refused to divorce her, she would eventually forgive him. "Fine, we won't talk about it now. If you don't want kids yet, we’ll postpone it to two years later. Since you want to work, I'll have my secretary find you a position at the Sumner Group." Nyla laughed at his arrangement, a mocking look in her eyes. "Clark, do you see me as a puppet you can control?" Hurt by her gaze, Clark frowned. "How am I controlling you? You don't want kids now, so I agreed to wait two years. You want to work, so I'll arrange it. What more do you want?" "Stop pretending. I don't want kids because I want a divorce. I want to work to sever ties with you." Clark looked at Nyla's stubborn face, displeased. Since their wedding, she had been like a canary in his cage. He couldn't let her go. "As long as I don't agree, this marriage won't end. Even if you tell a lawyer I cheated, do you have proof?" Clark's confident tone and controlling demeanor made Nyla step back, trembling with anger. She finally saw how selfish and disgusting he was. She had wasted eight years—the best years of her life, from 18 to 26—loving this man. "You make me sick, Clark!" Seeing the undisguised disgust in Nyla's eyes, Clar | LEARN_MORE | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692& | Indulge in story | https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/ | 866 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | findedc.com | DCO | https://findedc.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15692&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468455042_1262834138099234_1389968434765802098_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=IhfugVb4SSQQ7kNvgEebnmv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A5AsuE4EtgDuHXJA8Yd8OBI&oh=00_AYD_8SCv17OnDZ2dbCJlZAtLWcqVHgG1FXwOx3yTAsI9gQ&oe=675EDDC7 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Indulge in story | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Build a Business! Franchising in Arizona now | Looking for a family-friendly investment opportunity? Our educational child care franchise offers the perfect blend of financial stability and work-life balance. | LEARN_MORE | https://franchise.lightbridgeacademyfranchise.com/ | Lightbridge Academy | https://www.facebook.com/LightbridgeAcademy/ | 7,207 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | lightbridgeacademy.franchise | DCO | {{product.description}} | https://franchise.lightbridgeacademyfranchise.com/inquire-today?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=Arizona | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469111986_924890876260955_6901241151579714352_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=uHqNccQt6SQQ7kNvgEI08Bb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AO_FQTFcEBq7uf4z1CFiQQU&oh=00_AYBvmnL8h6DCU_wx_zJBUvP4kIpoU2vdHNmS87wlun2DRg&oe=675EAE22 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Lightbridge Academy | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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**2019 Chevrolet Silverado 1500 Custom** (FOLLOW US ON OUR SOCIALS https://linktr.ee/alphamotorsut) **5.3L V8 EcoTec3 | 4WD | Rugged, Reliable, Ready for Anything** If you're searching for a truck with the power to get the job done and the style to stand out, look no further than this **2019 Chevrolet Silverado 1500 Custom**. Powered by the robust **5.3L V8 EcoTec3** engine and equipped with 4WD, this Silverado delivers the perfect balance of capability and modern features. ### Highlights You’ll Appreciate: - **Performance That Doesn’t Quit:** - The **5.3L V8 EcoTec3 engine** offers 355 HP and 383 lb-ft of torque, providing effortless power whether towing, hauling, or cruising. - Paired with a **6-speed automatic transmission**, it ensures smooth performance and reliable handling. - **4WD capability** and an **automatic locking rear differential** make tackling rough roads and off-road trails a breeze. - **Bold, Functional Design:** - Sleek Custom trim styling with body-color bumpers and grille for a modern look. - **UPGRADED 20” aluminum wheels** wrapped in brand new 35" tires for an aggressive stance and sure-footed performance. - **CornerStep rear bumper** and **EZ Lift tailgate** for easy bed access. - **Workhorse Capability:** - Factory-installed **trailering package** with a built-in trailer hitch and 7-pin connector. - **Maximum towing capacity of up to 9,600 lbs**, ideal for towing trailers, boats, or equipment. - Bed equipped with **12 cargo tie-downs** and LED lighting for ultimate functionality. - **Tech to Keep You Connected:** - Chevrolet Infotainment 3 system with a **7" touchscreen**, Bluetooth, Apple CarPlay, and Android Auto. - USB ports for charging and connectivity. - HD rearview camera with hitch guidance for easy trailer hookups. - **Comfortable, Spacious Interior:** - Durable cloth seating with room for six thanks to the front bench seat. - **Power windows and mirrors** for convenience. - **Remote keyless entry** and **remote start** to make every drive seamless. - **Safety You Can Trust:** - Stabilitrak with trailer sway control for confidence on the road. - Tire Pressure Monitoring System and hill start assist. The **2019 Chevrolet Silverado 1500 Custom** is the ultimate combination of rugged capability and practical design. Whether you’re at the job site, on a road trip, or handling weekend projects, this truck is built to keep up with your lifestyle. **Ready to make it yours? Contact us today to schedule your test drive!** GET FINANCED TODAY! Follow the link to get approved! To see a full list of our current vehicles visit our website at www.alphamotorsut.com! If you have any questions don't hesitate to give us a call at our cell phone numbers Spencer or Fernando (385)800-1761 ,(Se habla Español) Alpha Motors LLC is not responsible for any misprints, typos, or errors found in our website pages. Any price listed excludes sales tax, registration tags, and delivery fees | MESSAGE_PAGE | Alpha Motors, LLC | https://www.facebook.com/thealphamotorsut/ | 2,860 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Send message | 0 | MULTI_IMAGES | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469986109_626113439744229_7279214357657102309_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=boKNUrSqgt4Q7kNvgHNmTeR&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Ay9SfUFBfrkQkRlRE0gblOB&oh=00_AYBYv7GljSOxmpr5XWV7xEpCn7MsPMJZn2BnRRlzq432aw&oe=675EC573 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Alpha Motors, LLC | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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3 Beds 1 Bath - Apartment | 3 Beds 1 Bath - Apartment - $2,900.00 🏡 Just Listed: Stunning 3-Bedroom Apartment in Peterstown, Elizabeth, NJ!🏡 ✨ Fully Renovated | 🛏️ 3 Bedrooms| 🚿 1 Bathroom 🚗 2 Designated Parking Spots| 🧺 In-Unit Laundry | 🚪 Barnyard Doors | 💡 Dimmers Throughout This modern gem is packed with style and convenience! The open layout features gorgeous barnyard doors and adjustable dimmers to set the perfect mood in every room. Central AC and Central Heat, Plus, you’ll never worry about parking with 2 reserved spots, and doing laundry is a breeze with the in-unit washer & dryer. 🌟 Key Location Features: - Easy access to Routes 1&9, NJ Turnpike, Garden State Parkway, & I-278 - Just minutes from the Goethals Bridge, Bayonne Bridge, & Outerbridge Crossing for quick trips to NYC or Staten Island - Close to Mattano Park, O’Brien Park, top-rated schools, and local shopping! Perfect for commuters or families, this apartment offers the ultimate blend of style, comfort, and convenience! 🚇🌳 📲 Don’t miss out—schedule your showing today before it’s gone! Facebook Marketplace | CONTACT_US | https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/106732839517 | Alejandra Jarrin | https://www.facebook.com/Alejandra-Jarrin-108007582007502/ | 0 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Contact us | 0 | IMAGE | https://facebook.com/marketplace/item/1067328395177925/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | REGULAR_PAGE | 1 | 0 | 0 | Alejandra Jarrin | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | "I, Barrett Warren, vow with my life that I'll take no concubine! Carissa Sinclair shall be my one and only!" These were the words that convinced Carissa Sinclair, the daughter of general, to hide her martial talents and forsake her promising future to marry into the crumbling Warren family. Even on their wedding night, when Barrett was abruptly summoned to the battlefield, Carissa never complained. She used her dowry to support the struggling Warren household, waiting faithfully for his return. But she never imagined that when Barrett finally returned, the first thing he would do was marrying his new love... --- At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage to Aurora." he said, his voice steady, " She will be joining our household. There's no question about it." Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Fell in love? Huh, looks like he is determined in breaking the vow he made a year ago... Carissa's soft smile wiped off by a mocking one, she had once believed Barrett’s victory would earn him a higher rank, freeing her from the burden of supporting the Warren household with her dowry. Yet instead, in exchange for his victory, he only asked the king for another woman's hand, and now he even dared to silence her with his so-called 'glorified victory'... Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and Aurora is amicable. Mother liked her a lot upon seeing her, even her health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please be generous enough to welcome Aurora." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them." Barrett interrupted, "You're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her. Also rest assured. Mother has promised me that Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things." “Oh, that's what you and mother think I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa couldn't help but laughing. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left in the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowry and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high... | LEARN_MORE | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831& | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | shgjfh.com | DCO | https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463430846_3918983931754783_3857163581980999957_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=BNHLX-AjZ9oQ7kNvgFAPR5x&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A24TR1bsAZhyRnn-NPkKq5L&oh=00_AYDyzNJudeJsuz1lfoqCUSXq-Wgz65dImvZEFQw1BWYERw&oe=675EB8E1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE | http://instagram.com/queens_boots | Queens Boots | https://www.facebook.com/61567055214583/ | 502 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Visit Instagram Profile | 0 | instagram.com | CAROUSEL | http://instagram.com/queens_boots | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469942953_459062400583213_1313251111475104538_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DU4qckh1yFQQ7kNvgGocKdk&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AShCl1ul42Llh5JeNGN4gbn&oh=00_AYCuaQ_OY4Bkj94xwn9ODyjhn4MotK4XTAhMMfFk1j_96Q&oe=675EC5EB | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Queens Boots | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Sgt. Splendor (Eric Mcfadden & Kate Vargas) | Sgt. Splendor live at Brewskis on December 13th | 9pm! Featuring Kate Vargas and Eric McFadden, this powerhouse duo blends blues, rock, and Southwestern roots into a captivating performance. Don’t miss it! 🎸💥 | EVENT_RSVP | https://www.facebook.com/events/520408247251815/ | Brewskis | https://www.facebook.com/brewskisogden/ | 7,543 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | INTERESTED | 0 | Sgt. Splendor (Eric Mcfadden & Kate Vargas) | EVENT | Sgt. Splendor live at Brewskis on December 13th! 🎤🔥 Featuring Kate Vargas and Eric McFadden, this powerhouse duo blends blues, rock, and Southwestern roots into a captivating performance. Don’t miss it! 🎸💥 | https://www.facebook.com/events/520408247251815/ | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469645551_592704003353871_8740221575122652117_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6RBvbgFKHt0Q7kNvgHt651q&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Auy3YpS-tZPPCCPYHnM0L5h&oh=00_AYAlUIZcJkGXZcLOLsRiO42Fq61SHlqPX86dDXzY_XjguA&oe=675EC981 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Brewskis | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | In Debra's last life, she loved Juan so much, but everyone knew that the one he cherished was Shelia. After Debra was drained of her last bit of value by Juan, she tragically died on the operating table. Reborn in this life, Debra swears never to repeat the same mistakes, and she will make Juan regret what he has done! "Get the defibrillator! Increase the voltage!" "Doctor! The patient is experiencing massive bleeding, and the A-type blood from the blood bank was just urgently taken away." The intern nurse's hands were covered in blood, and she trembled helplessly. Who would take away the all the blood they needed at the last moment? The woman lying on the bed was pale. Her lips were dry, and her eyes started to lose focus. "Juan..." "What?" "Juan Nichols..." The intern nurse made out the name murmured by Debra Frazier. Juan Nichols was the most influential businessman in Seamar City. The doctor was on the verge of collapse. He dialed the wrong number three times before finally getting it right. He quickly pleaded with the person on the other end of the phone, "Mr. Nichols, your wife is experiencing massive bleeding, but the blood from the blood bank has been taken away. Please, come and see her for the last time." But Juan's voice was filled with indifference. "She's still alive? Call me when she's dead." With that, he hung up the phone. All the light disappeared from Debra's eyes. 'Juan, do you hate me so much? Even at this point, you still don't want to see me. ' The machine emitted a flat, cold beep, indicating the patient's vital signs had disappeared. Debra felt her soul leaving her body. In her lifetime, she loved Juan dearly. As the only daughter of the Frazier family, she should have enjoyed the best life. But to marry Juan, she sacrificed herself and her family. In the end, she met a tragic fate. Debra slowly closed her eyes. Given another chance, she would never make the same mistakes. ... "Madam, Mr. Nichols wants to take you to the auction. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Sophie asked. Debra gasped and opened her eyes. Everything in front of her was strikingly familiar. This place was Juan and her home. They had been married for a month, but Juan had rarely visited her. She remembered that Juan was attending a land auction, and due to the occasion, he had to bring his family along. But this was all five years ago. 'How could it be? ' she thought, deeply confused, 'Am I reborn?' "Mr. Nichols has never stayed overnight before. You should seize this opportunity." Sophie’s voice brought Debra back to reality. She picked out a white gown, hesitating. "How about this one, Madam?" Looking at it, Debra gave a self-deprecating smile. It was well known that Juan favored Shelia. In the past, she often dressed like Shelia to please Juan Miles. Shelia liked white dresses, so she followed suit. But for this auction, Juan didn't inform her of the change in companion and brought Shelia instead, making her look ridiculous in a white dress similar to Shelia's. The thought of the past made her laugh. "No, I'll wear that one," she said, picking up a red dress she had never tried on before. Debra never liked plain clothes. Shelia was just a poor college student. Debra felt that she must have lost her mind to wear cheap clothes for a man. "But Mr. Nichols likes white dresses," Sophie said hesitantly. "I'll wear this one," Debra made up her mind and said. "Throw away all those white dresses. I don't like them." Sophie sighed and complied. Debra looked at herself in the mirror, still vibrant and beautiful. But in a few years, she would be worn down by Juan's torment. Before that happened, she would end it all. In the evening, Debra appeared in a burgundy dress that accentuated her curves. Her delicate makeup, curls, and a mole under her eye made her mesmerizing. She looked like a painting, untouchable. Not far away, a man in a white shirt and black combat boots saw her. With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Marion Houston asked, "Who is she?" "You don't know her? She's Debra, the daughter of the Frazier family and Juan's wife," said his friend, Randy Osborne. "I just saw Juan entering with another woman. Maybe we'll witness a showdown between the mistress and the wife. It will be fun." Marion made no comments. Randy clicked his tongue. "Juan's got a terrible taste, his wife is much prettier than the skinny woman he brought. Don't you think?" Randy turned around, but Marion was nowhere to be seen. "Damn it!" he cursed, quickly catching up with Marion. Meanwhile, Shelia, in a white dress, held Juan's arm timidly. "I've never been to such an event before. Maybe I should go back." "You'll get used to it. You'll be attending these events frequently in the future," Juan said. Shelia nodded. Juan was about to enter with Shelia when Joe spoke up. "Sir, won't we wait for Mrs. Nichols?" Juan frowned. "Didn't I ask you to tell her not to come today?" Joe glanced at Shelia, and she quickly said, "It's not Joe's fault. I told him not to inform Debra. With my status, I'm afraid of gossip, so I thought it would be better for Debra to accompany you in." Shelia lowered her head like a scared hare. Juan rubbed his temples. He didn't want Debra to show up at all. "Mr. Nichols..." Shelia murmured, biting her lip. "It's alright." Juan patted Shelia's head and said to Joe, "Go intercept her and send her away." In the crowd, there were murmurs of surprise. Joe looked over and was also shocked. "I'm afraid it's too late." | LEARN_MORE | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=1 | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | thebvhwysgng.com | DCO | https://thebvhwysgng.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13914&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463956934_832516948956211_2350907764249594106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xGPt_GqOADAQ7kNvgHoavGY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6MRB9cug8CeCsyubloGSRM&oh=00_AYBxL1Q8qLmcbIJaQPCKSrGdtQmTehkeHuDADWQavOLTGA&oe=675EDEA1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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H.Matamoros, Tamaulipas. ☎️ 868 307 9532 🕘HORARIO. Citas de... Lunes a Viernes - 9:00am a 7:00pm Sábados - 9:00am a 5:00pm Domingos - Cerrado 📍UBICACION Sobre la Avenida cantinflas, esquina con calle Los Pirules. Fracc Praderas. Matamoros, Tamaulipas. | WHATSAPP_MESSAGE | https://api.whatsapp.com/send | Consultorio "Dental Team" | https://www.facebook.com/100083124769129/ | 3,521 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Send WhatsApp message | 0 | MULTI_IMAGES | https://api.whatsapp.com/send | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469887771_1624575525164189_3369475260852385715_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=glpmg9N8ygAQ7kNvgFX9-L1&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A_d2KEO5AWWnuAJsucAIMpN&oh=00_AYAnh75iXKWNVN4geHPtAQ-NM8O4w3EGIUfWSVpfi2Ds-w&oe=675EDC08 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Consultorio "Dental Team" | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Vuelve conmigo, amor mío | En medio de la ruina económica de su familia, ella renunció a su preciado violín y se convirtió en la dócil mascota de su esposo, solo para encontrarse con el desprecio de este. Afortunadamente, ella por fin despertó, se divorció con valentía y reinició su carrera musical, alcanzando un gran éxito y provocando el remordimiento de su ex. ===== Joelle Miller examinó minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atención cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenía una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. Había descubierto que, en los días importantes, Nochebuena, San Valentín e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se había ausentado de todos esos días durante los últimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron más que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "¿Lo ven? Él siempre guarda para mí la parte más jugosa de una sandía". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "¡Y miren esta sorpresa! Recogió de la iglesia un amuleto de bendición para mí". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la única cuenta a la que Joelle seguía. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abrió. En la habitación poco iluminada apareció Adrian. Gotas de agua caían de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminación, sus atractivos rasgos permanecían intactos. Joelle cerró instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que lo vio. Esa noche él no estaba ahí por decisión propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como quería un bisnieto con desesperación, lo obligó a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabían que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirá si quedas e**arazada o no", declaró Adrian con una voz resonante. ¿Qué quería decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarró del tobillo y la atrajo hacia él. Joelle palideció ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensó de miedo. "¡Adrian! Basta, no quiero...". Empezó a luchar frenéticamente. Era una completa humillación verse obligada a vivir en esa situación con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, así que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguántalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lágrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneció a medida que la desesperación se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difícil es mucho más interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentó con rencor. Después de ducharse, se marchó sin mirar atrás, como si no quisiera quedarse más tiempo ahí. Joelle no entendía qué papel tenía en su vida. ¿Solo era un juguete para su placer? ¿O una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gélido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropó más con su manta. No solo temblaba de frío, sino que sentía su corazón desgarrado, ahora no conocía en absoluto al hombre que había adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrás, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebió demasiado. Cuando se despertó, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podía revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomó las riendas y organizó su matrimonio. Desde entonces, él estaba convencido de que Joelle lo había hecho a propósito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por más que creyera que lo había d**gado. Después de todo, habían crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendía todo. Para él, ella no era más que la nefasta mujer que había saboteado su relación con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que él se veía en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostraría esa misma ternura. No pudo contener más las lágrimas y sucumbió a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos términos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantó inusualmente temprano. Después de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajó las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada doméstica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rápidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocía sus preferencias dietéticas. Joelle se tomó su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, ¿por qué anoche no convenció a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentó Leah con simpatía. Había sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que había visto cómo los dos se convertían de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostró incómoda, pero lo ocultó con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intenté, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, él tenía el corazón en otra parte. Más concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudó y agregó con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller está muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrás, le habían reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, así que entendía los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatía hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lágrimas debido a la tensión emocional. Sí, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenía tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia Redención en busca de un amuleto de bendición para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompió el silencio. Cuando Leah salió del comedor, Joelle agarró el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesó con voz ronca. Capítulo 2 En declive Joelle había tomado una decisión: quería el divorcio. No tenía sentido seguir alargándolo. Tras un silencio atónito, Katherine soltó una estridente carcajada. "¿Te quedarás con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ¡Oh, por Dios! ¡Joelle, te convertirás en una multimillonaria!". "No, no será así". Joelle había firmado un acuerdo cuando se casó con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibiría nada. "Entonces, ¿por qué te estás divorciando? ¡Tienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordó la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, así como la humillación posterior. Había sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por él la ayudaría a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabía que había sido una completa tonta. ¿El sufrimiento hacía que Adrian la amara más? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le haría sufrir. Joelle se rio de sí misma y cambió de tema: "Por cierto, ¿recuerdas el favor que te pedí?". "Sí, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violín, aunque debo decir que será un desperdicio de tu talento". "Está bien", respondió Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No será un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "¿Cómo que no será un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio…". Katherine se quedó en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. Después de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridículo. Hacía tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibían tocar en público. El primer día de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerá en todo lo que necesites. Tu único trabajo es tener bebés y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminó su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subió las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violín abandonado. Había sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco después de recibirlo, este sufrió un derrame cerebral y cayó en coma. Su hermano mayor terminó asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, así que la dejó perseguir su sueño de tocar el violín. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle movió el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrás, un accidente le había lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no había vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentía en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confió en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltó una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchó la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "¡Señor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavía se preocupaba por Joelle. Quizás si ella le decía algo amable, su relación podría mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venía a casa durante el día. Apenas había dejado el violín cuando se abrió la puerta. Ahí estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle había aprendido a tocar el violín cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la había elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razón, había dejado de tocar. Hacía un momento, la había escuchado desde afuera y le pareció una interpretación mediocre. ¿Cómo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo miró y bajó la cabeza para volver a guardar el violín en su estuche. "¿Qué te trae por aquí?", murmuró. "¿Necesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondió él fríamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el día. De no ser por esa obligación, Adrian no habría regresado. Irene se enfadaría si no iban juntos. Joelle sonrió con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplía. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podía encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tú tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondió. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezó a hervir dentro de él. Sin decir nada más, se dirigió al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque él no solía estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenía la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah también podía hacer. Su única ventaja, tal vez, era ser más joven y más guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. Tenía el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesó el corazón. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declaró con una voz tan suave como la brisa. Había agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintió extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la miró con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson está en declive. Sin mi apoyo, ¿vas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caída de la familia Watson, Joelle pasó de ser amada a quedar en ridículo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podían librarse. Incluso sus momentos íntimos con Adrian la hacían sentir degradada. Joelle se mordió el labio y se enderezó. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mío". Solo quería que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habían dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "¿Y de dónde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querías ser independiente, no deberías haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontró entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. Sí, había utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, ¿lo que era suyo no era también de él? Además, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les había dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendía a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre había despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con él era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejaría de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ¿Estaba sugiriendo que ella debía salir del matrimonio con las manos vacías? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legítimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mío. Pero no te preocupes, no pediré mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedó paralizado y su mirada se agudizó. Sus labios formaron una fina línea mientras apretaba la mandíbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se había preparado mentalmente, no podía soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponía más ansiosa. De repente, sonó el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacó de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "¡Adrian!". Capítulo 3 Siempre mantendré la cabeza en alto La frustración de Adrian crepitaba como estática. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "¡No se trata de eso!", replicó Joelle. La había malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazón latiendo con urgencia, corrió tras él. "¡Adrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejó de subir las escaleras y giró la cabeza. El celular en su mano había dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, ¿no se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntó burlonamente con una mirada gélida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, ¿por qué no se lo dices tú misma a la abuela? ¡No quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerró de golpe detrás de él, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisión. Joelle se apoyó contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizó al suelo. Una risa amarga emergió de sus labios. Irene había organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se había visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabía muy bien. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, lo más efectivo sería hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estúpida parte de ella se había aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo había mencionado primero a él, porque lo veía como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidó un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca había querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia había sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella había intentado pasarla por alto. Sus últimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, debería enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparó para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenía un vínculo muy especial con ella. En parte, había aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. Quería cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba más. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecía consumirla. Era consciente de que él no la amaba. ¡Nunca lo hizo y nunca lo haría! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonó su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "¿Shawn? ¿Qué ocurre?". "¡Señora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca había escuchado. Se le heló la s**gre y agarró el celular con más fuerza mientras permanecía en la escalera. "¿Dónde está mi hermano? ¿Qué le pasó?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistió a una reunión de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que b*iera. Supuestamente volvería a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistió en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedó congelada y la furia recorrió sus venas. "¿Erick no sabía que eso podría matarlo?". "¡Erick es un s**vergüenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chóferes de la familia Miller. ¡Señora Miller, tiene que venir rápido! El señor Watson está siendo operado y los médicos han emitido dos avisos de condición crítica. ¡No pude aguantar más, así que la llamé!". El asistente parecía estar al borde de las lágrimas. Joelle sabía que él no se habría puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situación fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la había protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrías que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debía estar en peligro. Joelle sintió como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formó en su garganta. Al bajar del último escalón, tropezó y se cayó con fuerza, torciéndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolvió a la realidad y las lágrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "¡Oh, no, señora Miller, tenga más cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corrió a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarró el brazo de Leah con la visión borrosa a causa de las lágrimas. Intentó hablar, pero las palabras le salían entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ¡Tengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintió su urgencia y respondió sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ¡Le pediré al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos después, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volvió hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazón de la criada se ablandó. Incluso con el rostro pálido y surcado de lágrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ¡Qué muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sé qué hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegó al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirófano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomó. Joelle se acercó y lo encontró arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en s**gre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. Más tarde habría tiempo para eso. Cuando la condición de Shawn fue más estable, Joelle llevó al asistente a un lado. "Cuéntamelo todo. ¿Cómo ocurrió esto?". El asistente vaciló, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenó específicamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestión de vida o muerte. ¿Piensas que todavía es una opción no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondió el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea más llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn había luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrían desvanecido hacía mucho tiempo. Su deseo más profundo era que su hermana viviera cómodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecía por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguiría siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabía que no podía cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspiró profundamente y preguntó: "¿No mencionaron mi relación con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas más difíciles a usted". Joelle soltó una risa amarga. Jamás había estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podía soportarse a sí misma. Solo hacía una hora que le había pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligió personalmente. ¡Mientras sea la señora Miller, mantendré la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrás de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenía una sonrisa fría en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frágil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a él. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se había dado cuenta de que ella realmente no quería el divorcio. La mujer que había parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su título como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no había sido más que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacías. Era tan astuta que lo había d**gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tácticas tan engañosas, ¿cómo podría irse tan fácilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle sería una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciándose de él. Capítulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta Hacía mucho que Joelle se había vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. Observó sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordó los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ¡Qué pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeó. "¡Joelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, así que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozó una leve sonrisa. "¿Qué te trae al hospital?", preguntó mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicación de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "También vine a pedirte perdón, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "¿Descuidado?", replicó ella. "Tu hermano casi m*ta al mío, ¿y crees que una disculpa bastará para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeció y agarró la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondió él con una voz tan gélida como el invierno. "No fue a propósito". Luego, se volvió hacia Rebecca y agregó suavemente: "Vamos, ¿no viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendió todo. Había esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, había venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, sería por obligación, nada más. Pero sabía que no debía esperar que él la defendiera. "¡Rebecca, no olvidaré lo que hizo Erick!", espetó. Rebecca dobló las piernas y se desplomó sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapó justo a tiempo y la abrazó con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenía malas intenciones. ¡También está en el hospital!". "¿Ya está muerto? ¡Si no, tendrá que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solía arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la única familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperación, y su madre había fallecido en un accidente de tráfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habían sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentándose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos más oscuros, Shawn llevó sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasión por el violín. Ahora la idea de perderlo también a él era insoportable. Su único deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ¿cómo puedes decir eso?", sollozó Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijó su fría mirada en Joelle. "¿Qué deseas?". "Shawn recibió dos avisos de condición crítica. ¿Qué hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeó, su frágil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "¡Joelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ¡Por favor, ten compasión!". Se desmayó antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantó en sus brazos y le dio una última mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejó y la dejó clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareció una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, había sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtió en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que había sido. Ella solía ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sólo para complacer a su marido. ¡Qué patético! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? Los capítulos disponibles son limitados aquí, haga click el botón abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo más contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederá a este libro) &9& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa | Romance Novel | https://www.facebook.com/100083771162998/ | 48,398 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.manobook.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214427999940186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467856739_594053266481271_4152953179474436254_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cO9EwQ77D0EQ7kNvgGPEMyb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=APqTf-8pDMts5b_9zj2AVWl&oh=00_AYBD_EIemz3hocb1IdSA_Hdcekz6sfv94tnT-K-fGsNn5A&oe=675EB276 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Romance Novel | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Scratch & Dent Appliances | LOW Prices! | SHOP_NOW | https://www.crabtreefurnitureco.com/catalog/applia | Crabtree Furniture & Appliance | https://www.facebook.com/CrabtreeFurnitureandAppliance/ | 2,668 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Shop Now | 0 | crabtreefurnitureco.com | CAROUSEL | LOW Prices! | https://www.crabtreefurnitureco.com/catalog/appliances?utm_source={{ad.name}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469620837_1994284587740185_2614774056599837697_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=lEqoLRK3igEQ7kNvgH4APJK&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A93y7HiXuUsKu3jLWiBkQIg&oh=00_AYDivsdJv8SS7yNR86DOgUprcXHb-3Cw3tqqoOKYN_fw8w&oe=675ECBEC | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Crabtree Furniture & Appliance | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | It had been three years of marriage. Justine Thorpe finally found her husband, Ash Vanderbilt, in the OB-GYN clinic of a hospital. He hadn't shown up for three months. However, he was not alone. Another woman—his mistress—was with him. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Justine. Her name was Jenny Thorpe, and she had been living as Justine's replacement in the Thorpe family for 16 years. Justine had suspected her husband of having an affair for at least six months, but she never imagined it would be with Jenny. Not that the revelation was entirely surprising, now that she thought about it. Everyone in Sol's upper class knew that Ash's true love had always been his childhood friend. Justine was the devil who had gotten in the way. Seeing Ash and Jenny together somehow relieved Justine. The mystery was finally solved. She watched them enter the elevator. Ash's delicate eyelashes were lowered as he spoke softly to his companion. Justine had never seen him this gentle before. Jenny was grazing her slightly protruding belly, nodding bashfully. Justine and Jenny closely resembled each other, yet Justine could never mimic the seductive femininity that Jenny exuded. Suddenly, Jenny lifted her head and met Justine's gaze before ducking into Ash's arms as if frightened. "Ashie!" she mumbled. Just as always, Jenny was putting on a show again. Ash looked up with a glare. His eyes met Justine's, and the gentleness on his face dissipated, replaced by that all-too-familiar apathy and annoyance. Justine and Ash were married only because their parents had wanted them to be. She had lost her parents when she was three, though, and while she had been missing, Jenny had come out of nowhere and stolen Justine's identity. By the time Justine was finally found. Ash's mind had already been set—he only cared for his "childhood friend". The seniors in the family had had to force him to take Justine's hand. Justine did not mind. The only thing she loved about Ash was his looks, but even that was beginning to wear thin. He seemed more and more like a stranger to her. - The elevator door shut. Justine thought their encounter was dramatic. Just imagine how much of a soap opera episode it would be like if she ran at Ash, slapped him, and then confronted Jenny! "Jean! When did you get here? I was just about to grab this medicine for you!" Justine turned to meet Iris Carr, her manager. She smiled and signed, "An expecting mother needed help." Iris studied her heart-stopping beauty and felt a pang in her heart. Justine was so gorgeous, kind, gentle, and an extraordinary dancer. She was a mute who outshone so many people Iris had known. She had even been the prima ballerina of a well-known ballet company, until… "Here. Your painkillers," Iris said, her eyes reddening slightly as she choked back a sob. "How could you just… injure your spine? You finally managed to become the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale! If you could just finish this tour, you could have..." Becoming the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale ballet company was the dream of countless dancers worldwide. And Justine had been considered after just one interview—it was incredible! The tragedy weighed heavily on Iris. Justine had always been silent about her family matters, leading Iris to list her as orphaned on her resume, stating she had grown up in an orphanage. Over time, Iris had even come to believe it herself. The more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Justine smiled faintly, seemingly unaware of the sympathy in Iris' face, as she received the painkillers. A year ago, Ash's uncle had hired a hitman on his life. Justine's attempt to save him resulted in her spinal injury. Ash had found the best doctors money could buy and purchased expensive medical equipment for her. The medical team later concluded that her treatment was complete. Unfortunately, two months later, her old injury was aggravated while she was preparing for the tour. After another examination, Justine's career was essentially over. While the spinal injury wouldn't affect her daily life, she could no longer dance. Justine had informed Ash immediately, but he had yet to respond. Maybe he never cared. She had cried her heart out after returning from the hospital, but ultimately, she accepted her fate. This was not the end of the world. After some reflection, Justine decided to continue her tour. She would get treatment alongside it, determined to end her career as a ballet dancer on a high note. This evening's performance would be her last. However, that morning, she woke up to find her painkiller supply depleted. Justine squeezed the paper bag, her eyes feeling dry. It was as if she were a character in a soap opera. Meeting Ash and Jenny felt like a cruel joke. The pain in her spine flared slightly. Regret washed over her. If only she had never tried to save Ash. Instead, he survived long enough to become a villain, insulting the handsome face Justine once adored. She tucked the painkillers into her pocket and took out her phone. Her long lashes veiled the coldness in her eyes as she looked down at the screen. She then selected Ash's number, typed a message, and sent it immediately. - "Why was she in the OB-GYN, Ashie?" At the basement parking lot, Jenny subconsciously shielded her belly and added, "Could she be, you know…" "That's impossible," Ash replied firmly. Jenny looked away to hide her surprised glee. So Justine had never managed to sleep with him in all three years of marriage? Well, it wasn't that surprising. Everyone in Sol knew that, as a boy, Ash had almost been strangled to death by his mute and mentally ill mother. Traumatized, Ash harbored hatred for his birth mother—and for people who were mute like her. Thus, when his maternal grandparents forced him to marry Justine, it felt like a cruel joke aimed at Ash. There was no way he would ever sleep with her. Poor Justine! A laughingstock, was she not? So what if she was beautiful? What if she could perform some snobby, pretentious dance? Ash had still abandoned her. How could she ever compete with Jenny for Ash's heart? Jenny suppressed her glee and pretended to look sad. "Oh, Ashie… I bet the one person Justine hates the most is me. You are aware of what transpired. She nearly took my life when she returned to the Thorpes. And now she saw us at the OB-GYN," she said. "I should explain myself to her once I get back. I don't want her to throw another fit—" "She won't," Ash interjected. Justine was his simp, always obeying his wishes. For years, there had been fabricated scandals circulating online about celebrities sleeping with him, yet Justine had never questioned him about any of it. She trusted him—like a machine programmed to smile and serve him. "Don't overthink it, Jenny. She won't hurt you," he added. "I'll have someone escort you home safely." Jenny still looked like she was about to cry. She was on the verge of getting into Ash's car when she suddenly caught sight of Justine in the parking lot. Ash had assured her that everything would be fine, but what made him so certain? Jenny could never forget the day Justine chased her with a kitchen knife like a rabid dog. It was a true display of Justine's character. Did she really believe she could charm Ash into loving her by hiding her true nature? Did she think she could be Mrs. Vanderbilt forever? It was almost laughable. "Juju!" Jenny called out cheerfully. Justine had always hated that nickname and would go ballistic over it. What if she reacted that way again this time? Ash's expression darkened as he shot a brief glance at Justine, immediately noticing how thin she had become. Justine turned to them and nodded politely as if she had no idea who they were. She signed to the woman beside her, entered her ballet company's car, and drove away. Jenny gritted her teeth. She did not take the bait! She squeezed out some crocodile tears and grabbed Ash's sleeve. "Ashie, Ashie! Did you see that? She didn't even acknowledge us! This is all my fault! I shouldn't have come to you for help even if I have no one else to turn to… Because we were engaged before, so this had to look really bad… "Oh no, I'm the one who ruined your marriage! I should have just stayed with those guys!" she sobbed. Ash ignored her. He was fixated on what Justine had signed: "I don't know them. They mistook me for someone else." "Ashie, you gotta chase after her!" Jenny cried out as though she cared about preserving Ash and Justine's relationship. Ash was unfazed. He absent-mindedly glanced at the sleeve Jenny was grabbing and realized that Justine had bought this coat for him. She had won a ballet competition that day and used the prize money to purchase it, presenting it almost like a tribute. Ash yanked the sleeve away from Jenny. "I've told you. She won't mind." At that moment, his phone vibrated. Ash scanned the screen, and his eyes suddenly grew bitterly cold as the words leaped into view: [I want a divorce.] Chapter 2 At the Grand Theater of Sol. A towering man stood in the darkness where the audience gathered. He felt as cold as winter. His eyes were fixed on the stage as the Black Swan darted across it, agile and mesmerizing. The Black Swan's movements were fluid and firm, sensual and tempting. The man almost wished he could possess her right now. The performance was nearing its end, so the man turned away and strode toward the backstage. - The performance ended. Justine felt a quiet pain in her waist, but she gritted her teeth through the production. The crowd erupted in ovation. She took one last yearning glance at the stage and her adoring audience before returning backstage. Iris had been watching her every move with concern. "Is it hurting? I can cancel the fan meeting and photo session if you need it. You can rest in the breakroom, and once the rest of the performance is over, I'll come for you," Iris suggested. Justine waved reassuringly. Many of these fans had traveled all the way to Sol to see her performance—to meet her. How could she let them down? Soon, the photo session concluded. After checking in with Justine, Iris left to direct the stage. Suddenly, Justine found herself alone. She looked around as memories flooded back. Ballet had been a part of her for as long as she could remember. Concerned that Justine's disability might hinder her job prospects, the orphanage's director had signed her up for ballet classes after discovering her talent, despite the lack of funding from the orphanage. All that hard work and dedication was gone like the wind because of her career-ending injury. How could anyone not feel regret? Justine removed her makeup and pressed her hand against her waist, trying to support it as she tiredly headed to the prima ballerina's room. It was dark inside. She reached for the light switch. Suddenly, from the shadows, a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. Then, the door shut and locked behind her. Panic surged through Justine. The scent enveloping her was familiar. Why was Ash there? Before she could answer her own question, he pressed his lips forcefully against hers. More kisses followed, violent and punishing. Justine wanted to shove him away, but Ash was a hulking mass of angry muscle, dominating her completely. Fear surged as she bit his tongue, tasting blood, but he didn't stop. Jenny had no idea how wrong she was about Justine and Ash's life. Their marriage had been consummated quickly, thanks to the "intervention" of some elders. Although Ash might resent Justine's existence, he was undeniably addicted to her body. They had known each other for so long and so well that they instinctively understood how to arouse and please one another. This knowledge was etched into their flesh, a part of their movements. Justine's thoughts spiraled into chaos. Suddenly, she felt a bite on her shoulder. She could tell Ash was upset just from the strength—and it irritated her. What was his problem?! He had always wanted this divorce! he had signed the paper with his name on the day of their wedding! With Justine gone, he would finally be able to marry the woman he really wanted, right? So why is he angry now? Because she was the one who had suggested it instead of him? The backstage was starting to fill with people. She could even hear one of the assistant artistic directors rushing past her room. If anyone were to knock—or even open—her door, Justine would be famous in the scene for the worst reason possible! Justine bit her lips, forcing herself not to let out even a should. Unfortunately, this only made Ash more beastly. He hated silence, so he did everything he could to make her scream and yelp. - The light was on, bright and blinding. Ash sat languidly on the couch, his shirt and suit surprisingly neat. In contrast, Justine's expensive ballet dress lay torn. After a shower, she slipped into an oversized practice garment while Ash glared at her. "A divorce?" he asked, cutting straight to the chase. It was difficult to discern his emotions from his voice. Justine studied him—he was still as handsome as ever, but gone was the youthful, teenage look she once loved. In its place stood an indifferent, reserved man in a suit. Her eyes no longer sparkled with admiration and yearning when she looked at him. She nodded firmly. Ash snickered. "What? Because of Jenny?" For some reason, the thought of Justine exploding over his affair with Jenny excited him. Unfortunately, she simply shook her head determinedly. "I don't love you anymore," she signed. "That's why I want a divorce." Reality shattered Ash's fleeting excitement. Her straightforwardness left no room for ambiguity—she didn't even hint at clinging. His mind went blank. Suddenly, he recalled that rainy night many years ago when that woman had pushed him into the mud, signing furiously, "I don't love you anymore! I am not your mother! You are disgusting, just like your father! Go away! I don't want to see you anymore!" It felt as though all emotions had drained from him. Ash rose and glared at Justine frostily. "Suit me just fine. You stole this marriage from Jenny back then, anyway. She finally gets what's always been hers." "Congratulations," Justine signed earnestly. Ash was stunned. He had not expected that from her. He remembered Jenny begging Justine not to take him away when Justine had taken out a lipstick and written on the wall, right in front of their parents, 'He is mine, and only mine!' The same woman… just congratulated Jenny. Rage inexplicably flared within him. Granted, this marriage should have ended sooner. It had been delayed because she had saved his life while sustaining grievous injuries a year ago, but now she was the one requesting a divorce. That worked to Ash's advantage, right? He had no reason to be mad. "My lawyer will contact you tomorrow at noon to finalize our divorce," he said. Justine nodded. Surprisingly, she felt not a hint of sadness or longing. "Good. We can announce our divorce at the family dinner tomorrow evening," she signed. Ash looked away from her. she had this all planned out, hadn't she? It was as if she could not wait to have every tie with him severed. Chapter 3 Ash sneered and went through the door. Justine watched his hulking frame, suddenly recalling hazy memories of her teenage past: a younger version of him, tall and lean, with his back against her. Despite her earlier calm, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. "Justine…" He had stopped by the door and turned to face her. "I no longer answer to my grandfather, Justine. So there's zero chance of you going back to being my wife after this. Don't regret it. "And most importantly—don't give Jenny trouble. You've tormented her enough." Ash understood how obsessive her love had been. Justine's life was so devoid of meaning that the only two things she had were ballet and him. This was why Ash was convinced that Justine's sudden change of attitude stemmed from spite after seeing Jenny. Once she calmed down, he was sure she would regret this decision. His job was to ensure her regret was futile. She could no longer return to him—and he would never accept her. Justine was kind and courteous to everyone except Jenny. Ash had never managed to protect her well enough—the poor girl had endured much of Justine's wrath. That was why he was determined not to let Jenny suffer for him any longer, no matter how hysterical Justine could be. "Trust me, Mr. Vanderbilt. You should say this to her," Justine signed, her eyes gentle as always. "She should not mess with me." Otherwise, Jenny would suffer worse. - Justine was nothing if not determined. When Ash was her prize, no one—not could have gotten in her way. But now that she wanted him out of her life, she wouldn't shed a tear for him. After Ash left, Justine cleaned up the room. She picked up the torn pieces of her favorite ballet dress. It had been tailor-made for her—a piece of luxury she had won in an international competition. Fixing it would require a lot of money. She had to demand compensation for it in the divorce agreement! Just then, she heard Iris' voice from outside. "Jean? Are you up?" The performances had ended a while ago. Iris had arrived earlier, but the light in the room had been off, so she had assumed Justine had been sleeping. Justine lit a lavender candle, and once the stench of Ash's intrusion faded, she opened the door. "It's over?" she signed. "Other troupes have all left except for your group! Everyone's waiting for you at the party," Iris replied, doing her best to mask her sadness. Yes, it was a party, all right—a farewell party. Suddenly, Justine's phone rang, startling her. Few people ever called her phone. Those who knew her preferred video calls. But this was an audio call. "Looks like a landline number," Iris murmured. She quickly looked it up on the Internet. "That's… Eudaimonia Home in Saintwood. Why is a nursing home calling you at this hour?" Justine answered the call before Iris finished her explanation. "Is this Justine Thorpe? Good evening. This is Eudaimonia Home. Mrs. Aurora Roch hasn't been feeling too well for the past two days. If you can, please come here as soon as possible. She would like to meet you." Justine was shocked. - The trip took three hours, and it was already one in the morning when Justine arrived. The nurse who had called her led Justine to Aurora's room. "She's been expecting you," the young woman said. The sight of a sickly, bony woman on a sickbed greeted Justine. Aurora had once been the director of Glascape Orphanage and had been a mother figure who raised Justine. She was the one who had recognized the potential ballerina in her and let her shine. Three years ago… While suffering from an incurable disease, Justine's grandfather found her in the orphanage and wanted her to return home. Justine refused—until some bloggers discovered Glascape Island. The rustic beauty of the fishing town quickly spread across the Internet, attracting several corporations eager to transform it into a tourist destination. At that critical moment, Aurora was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Justine faced a difficult choice. She needed money to prevent the island's purchase and save Aurora. Thus, she approached her grandfather and agreed to a deal. Soon after, Aurora informed Justine that she had contacted a hospital abroad where she would receive treatment. They parted ways but promised to stay in touch. "The treatment went well," she would say. "I met someone I love in the wonderful continent of Aestra. I would like to spend my last few years there." Justine believed her. Aurora had discovered her stomach cancer at an early stage, so her chances of recovery were high. Justine sincerely hoped Aurora was living happily out there, free from any shackles. Then Justine decided to marry Ash. That was when Aurora suddenly came to see her. They had a big argument, and afterward, Aurora stopped contacting Justine. - For years, Justine had been trying to locate Aurora. She would ask around and chase down leads, but she never managed to find her—until today. On her way to the hospital, the nurse provided details about Aurora's illness. The cancer cells had been spreading even back when they had their fight. "Jean, is that you?" Aurora's voice sounded familiar and foreign at the same time. Justine approached her, choking back tears. Aurora examined her face and smiled. "Oh, Jean. You're even more beautiful now!" she whispered. Justine studied her in disbelief. Suffering had taken so much from her. Aurora was left with nothing but bones and skin! Justine could not help but cry. "I thought you found someone you love! A-And you're spending your last days somewhere in Aestra!" Justine signed slowly. "So why are you here? Why are you… dying?" Aurora's eyes reddened. "I'm so sorry. I lied." Justine cast her eyes at Aurora's face, shakily holding her hands. She pressed her forehead against the back of Aurora's hands—just like she used to when she was a child. But there was no warmth left in Aurora's hands. They were frighteningly cold. "Love, you're all grown up now. You have to… learn to accept death… Mine… and Ares'..." Ares… Justine felt her blood freeze. Memories flooded her—it was a beautiful day. A young man ran across the white waves as they rolled. He laughed and turned back to her, his smile brighter than the sun. "Come over here for a hug, Little Justine!" he had called. Pain coursed through Justine’s limbs. She met Aurora's gaze, her eyes brimming with tears of agony. Chapter 4 Aurora knew exactly what was on her mind. She had raised this child, after all. Half a year after Ares' death, the Thorpe family located Justine in Glascape. Aurora hadn't wanted to be separated from the young woman, but Justine's worsening mental state had made her reconsider. Justine had taken it poorly, wasting all her time searching for news about a man who was already dead. She had been a woman possessed—everyone feared she would become more self-destructive. Aurora had hoped that sending Justine away to a new place with her original family might help her move on. That was why she had accepted the Thorpes' offer. Thus, Justine returned to Sol. Who would have thought Justine would marry someone not long after? Aurora knew how much Justine had loved Ares. There was no way she could have accepted another man in her life so soon—let alone a husband. Fearing it was a political marriage of convenience at the cost of her child's agency, Aurora had rushed to Sol. That was when she met Ash Vanderbilt. The young man had just returned from studying abroad. Most terrifying, though, was how much he resembled Ares physically. The only difference between them was the feeling they evoked. Justine had gone mad! She had latched onto Ash as if he were her last hope, utterly convinced in her denial that Ash Vanderbilt was an amnesiac Ares Vance. Any mention of the truth—Ares' death—would send Justine into uncontrollable hysteria. So why was she so different today? Why was she looking at Aurora with such crushing dejection in her eyes… without a single retort of denial? "Y-You know… he's not him, d-don't you?" Aurora whispered shakily. Justine nodded tearfully. Of course, she knew! Ahhh, Ash could not muster even the smallest amount of the kindness Ares had so effortlessly displayed. However, back then, Justine could not bear the thought of living in a world without Ares. She had deluded herself, clinging to an impostor, surviving through Ash's superficial semblance of him. How else could she have lived this long? But Ash... was a disappointment. He wore those suits so frequently now that it had become harder and harder to see Ares' ghost in him. Aurora let out a pained sob. "No, no, no. How cruel has he been to you…" How cruel had Ash been to Justine? How much hurt had she endured to break a spell so ingrained in her? What had it taken for Justine to admit she had been living in a delusion? The implication stabbed Aurora like a knife. The equipment connected to her began to beep shrillily in alarm. Justine panicked. She was about to call the nurse when Aurora suddenly grabbed her wrist. "Jean… once I'm gone, you're not bound to anyone in this world anymore… Do you understand me?" she croaked. "Leave them. Go home. L-Live… your life... You are free, Jean." Justine nodded frantically, pressing the emergency button over and over. Aurora's breathing grew erratic, but her eyes were fixed on Justine. She could not leave just yet. Her precious girl was still there, all alone. No one would stand for her. No one would speak for her. Alone. "J-Jean..." she whispered one last time, holding Justine's hand. "C-Call me..." Justine trembled. "Call me... M-Mom..." Aurora exhausted all her strength. Her body collapsed into Justine's arms, her breath short. The old woman was hyperventilating, looking at Justine with a pleading gaze. Justine had not been born mute. It was trauma—from before her time in the orphanage—that had caused her mutism. Aurora had taken her to countless specialists, but the effects of the treatments had been discouragingly small. Now, all Justine could hear was the ringing in her ears. She nodded vigorously and opened her mouth, trying to force out a sound. Her throat felt strange. Panic welled inside her. Time seemed to slow. All she could produce was silence. The nurses rushed into the room, and Justine felt herself being pulled away from Aurora. Chaos surrounded her, accompanied by the incessant ringing in her ears. It wasn't until she heard the long beep from the machine that the ringing finally subsided. One of the nurses gently closed Aurora's eyes. She had been watching Justine until the very end. Then, they covered her pain-twisted face with a piece of white cloth. It was not the first corpse Justine had ever seen. The first time was at a funeral home in Glascape. Aurora had howled, her voice thick with tears, "Ares! no, no!" 'You see this, Ares? You loved me so much, and yet I wasn't there when you ended your life. I never even visited you once in so many years. 'She raised me, right? She just wanted me to call her Mom. And I couldn't even do that. 'I'm a terrible person,' Justine thought. - Aurora had left notes for her burial. There was to be no funeral. She wanted to be cremated immediately. She had also appointed Justine to decide what to do with her ashes and belongings. As Aurora was pushed into the crematory, the nurse who had cared for her the longest collapsed to her knees in tears, howling. But Justine could only watch in cursed silence. Her lips were pale as she tried to call out to Aurora in her mind. - The first snow had arrived on Sol. Ash's meeting had just ended. Robin Letto, his secretary, rushed to his side. "Mr. Vanderbilt! Ms. Pearce said she can't seem to contact Mrs. Vanderbilt," she said hesitantly, too afraid to even breathe too loudly. Ash’s mood had been in the gutters today. It was as if the air itself could freeze around him. Logically, after regaining full control over the family business and outmaneuvering his uncles, Ash should have been overjoyed. Yet, he was the exact opposite. Ash frowned. "Fine." He expected her to regret it, but he hadn't expected it to happen so soon. Now, divorce was back on the table. Despite Ash's thoughts, there was a renewed spring in his step, something even he failed to notice. Nearby, Robin acutely sensed the change in his demeanor. His mood, unexpectedly, seemed to have improved. Ash returned to his office and booted up his laptop. The document he had been working on appeared on the screen: the divorce agreement. He had been revising the terms of the compensation Justine was entitled to receive. The offers were generous. The money alone would be enough for her to live comfortably for a lifetime. He had purchased a property for her abroad. Knowing she had been accepted as the prima ballerina of the Academie Royale, he had bought her a villa in Voue, the capital city of Charlemagne, where the ballet company was based. To Ash, these gestures were his way of expressing gratitude for saving his life. - At noon, a meticulously dolled-up Jenny stepped into Ash's car, and they drove to a Michelin-starred restaurant she had been eager to visit for ages. Grinning sweetly, she cooed, "Ngaww, I don't know what came over me! I just had to eat at this restaurant! You're such a gem, Ashie!" Ash smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're happy." Jenny nodded firmly. "Of course I am! You're always so nice to me." She hesitated for a moment. "Um… Did Justine… you know…" Ash's smile faded. "Let's just eat." Jenny felt a surge of satisfaction at his darkened expression at the mere mention of Justine. Lunch soon ended, and Ash needed to return to work. "I've kept you long enough, Ashie! Good luck with work!" she said brightly. "I'm off to meet my friends for afternoon tea!" Ash briefly glanced at her belly. "Please take care of yourself." "Of course!" she chirped, waving him off. Once he was out of sight, Jenny's smile disappeared. The innocence drained from her expression as she dialed a number. "Hey. Are you sure Justine will be at the Thierry family's soiree?" she asked. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14797&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14797&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465733853_502380432950668_5964851641982863637_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=_BQtfwFqEPYQ7kNvgGqO-QJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A6MRB9cug8CeCsyubloGSRM&oh=00_AYA_7aDh0wkREndtn989xIptMm6H2rhPmHapwbn5dBp3ow&oe=675EDD23 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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New 2025 Hyundai Palisade Calligraphy AWD | $51,801 | VIN:KM8R7DGE2SU844527 | LEARN_MORE | https://www.beardmorehyundai.com/new/Hyundai/2025- | Beardmore Hyundai | https://www.facebook.com/beardmorehyundai/ | 393 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | beardmorehyundai.com | CAROUSEL | VIN:KM8R7DGE2SU844527 | https://www.beardmorehyundai.com/new/Hyundai/2025-Hyundai-Palisade-9d70c557ac181da3e3b7831bcd03780a.htm?alstad_source=car&alstad_vin=KM8R7DGE2SU844527&alstad_year=2025&alstad_make=Hyundai&alstad_model=Palisade&alstad_condition=new&alst_action=car&alst_action_value=KM8R7DGE2SU844527 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469936748_616012597767008_7169391490743459884_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Vpc98y4b2u4Q7kNvgGxB6YY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A_vHUTB2MHffc6YSrd97G2B&oh=00_AYA0l1l2OmBWeWiPxfkcGwe88KhbLptOolmrZtF72MCjJQ&oe=675ED352 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Beardmore Hyundai | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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Yo soy tuya y tú eres mío | Después del divorcio, finalmente se enteró de que a ella le habían diagnosticado depresión por su culpa. Se arrodilló y le rogó que lo perdonara, pero ella ya no quería amarlo... ===== Capítulo 1 El regreso de la exnovia Raegan Hayes estaba un poco distraída. No podía pensar en nada más que en las palabras del médico. "¡Felicitaciones! Está embarazada". De repente, Mitchel Dixon le pellizcó el brazo. "Oye, ¿en qué estás pensando?". Antes de que ella pudiera responder, Mitchel se levantó. Luego, él entró al baño. Raegan permaneció inmóvil en la enorme cama. Sus mechones húmedos se pegaban a sus sienes y mejillas. Estaba mirando al techo con los ojos llenos de lágrimas. Después de un rato, sacó el informe de embarazo del cajón del velador. Había ido al hospital por un incesante dolor de estómago. Tras un análisis de orina, el médico le dio la noticia. ¡Tenía alrededor de cinco semanas de embarazo! Era toda una sorpresa. Mitchel y ella nunca planeaban el embarazo. Tras devanarse los sesos, recordó el día de la concepción. Había sido el mes pasado, después de una fiesta. Mitchel la llevó a casa... Adentro del baño, se escuchaba correr el agua. Mitchel era su esposo y llevaban dos años casados en secreto. Era su jefe en el trabajo, el presidente del Grupo Dixon. Todo había sucedido con suma rapidez. Recién la habían contratado en la empresa cuando accidentalmente se conocieron en una fiesta. Días más tarde, el abuelo de Mitchel enfermó de gravedad. Fue entonces cuando él propuso un matrimonio falso para cumplir el último deseo del anciano. Ambos firmaron un acuerdo prenupcial y acordaron esconder su matrimonio al público. Era probable que su unión terminara en cualquier momento. Era una ocasión poco convencional. Sin embargo, Raegan se consideraba afortunada. Ni en un millón de años pensó que se casaría con el hombre del que estuvo enamorada durante ocho años, así que aceptó con entusiasmo. Mitchel estuvo muy ocupado después de la boda, ya que trabajaba la mayor parte del tiempo. Raegan deseaba estar más con él en casa. Pero se sentía tranquila porque no tenía rumores ni escándalos con otras mujeres. A pesar de su leve indiferencia, Mitchel era el esposo perfecto. Raegan tuvo sentimientos encontrados mientras observaba el resultado de la prueba de embarazo. Finalmente decidió contarle la verdad a Mitchel. También quería decirle que no lo había conocido recientemente, sino que lo había amado desde hacía muchos años. De repente, la ducha del baño dejó de sonar. En cuanto Mitchel salió, sonó su teléfono, así que salió al balcón con una toalla de baño para contestar la llamada. Raegan comprobó la hora y vio que ya era medianoche. No pudo evitar sentirse incómoda. ¿Quién lo llamaba a una hora tan intempestiva? Mitchel estuvo unos minutos en el balcón. Luego, regresó a la habitación. Su cuerpo era un espectáculo digno de contemplar. Tenía voluminosos abdominales en su vientre y sus brazos eran fuertes y musculosos. ¡Era un excelente hombre! Aunque Raegan lo había visto así antes, se sonrojó y su corazón comenzó a acelerarse. Ajeno a sus miradas, Mitchel agarró su camisa y sus pantalones de traje de la cama, se los puso y se anudó la corbata con sus delgados dedos. Su hermoso rostro tenía un contorno claro que lo hacía verse más digno esa noche. Era toda una obra de arte. "No me esperes despierta". ¿Qué? ¿Iba a salir? ¿A estas horas? Raegan agarró con más fuerza la prueba de embarazo mientras le daba una mirada decepcionada. Inconscientemente retiró la mano. "Ya es muy tarde", soltó después de pensar un rato. Los dedos de Mitchel se quedaron congelados sobre su corbata. Con una leve sonrisa, le pellizcó el lóbulo de la oreja. "¿Te da miedo la oscuridad?". Raegan se sonrojó hasta la raíz del cabello. Estaba a punto de responder cuando Mitchel la soltó. "Pórtate bien, ¿sí? Necesito hacer algo. No me esperes despierta". Tras esas palabras, se dirigió hacia la puerta. "Mitchel". Raegan corrió para alcanzarlo. Mitchel se dio vuelta y la miró con seriedad. "¿Qué pasa?". Había un ápice de frialdad en su voz. Una nube negra descendió sobre ellos mientras se miraban fijamente. Un poco angustiada, Raegan dijo en voz baja: "Me gustaría visitar mañana a mi abuela. ¿Puedes acompañarme?". Su frágil y enferma abuela siempre quería verla. Por eso quería llevar a Mitchel y asegurarle que eran muy felices. "Hablemos mañana al respecto". Sin aceptar ni negarse, Mitchel se marchó apresuradamente. Varios pensamientos rondaban la mente de Raegan mientras se duchaba y regresaba a la cama. No podía conciliar el sueño. Tras dar vueltas y vueltas, se levantó de la cama y se preparó un vaso de leche caliente. Algunas noticias en línea llegaron a su teléfono. Pero, como no le interesaban, estaba a punto de eliminarlas cuando una llamó su atención. El conocido nombre la hizo abrir el artículo. La noticia decía: "La famosa diseñadora Lauren Murray fue vista hoy en el aeropuerto con su misterioso novio". Lauren llevaba un sombrero amplio. La figura del hombre se veía vaga, pero el contorno de su cuerpo bastaba para mostrar que era apuesto. Raegan agrandó la imagen y su corazón dio un vuelco. ¡Era Mitchel! ¿Había cancelado la reunión de la tarde para recoger a su exnovia del aeropuerto? Raegan se sintió molesta, como si tuviera una roca en el estómago. Sus manos estaban temblando y marcó inconscientemente el número de Mitchel. El tono de llamada la devolvió a sus sentidos. Estaba a punto de colgar cuando, de repente, se conectó la línea y se escuchó una voz desde el otro lado. "¡Hola!". Era una suave voz de mujer. Raegan se quedó paralizada y tiró el teléfono. Fue entonces cuando sintió náuseas y la bilis subió a su garganta. Cubriéndose la boca, fue corriendo al baño y vomitó en la taza del váter. A la mañana siguiente, Raegan llegó temprano al trabajo. Mitchel le había insistido en que dejara de trabajar después de casarse, pero ella quería ganar su propio dinero. A pesar de que no se opuso, Mitchel le pidió que trabajara como su asistente y lo ayudara con las tareas diarias. Matteo Jenkins, el asistente principal, estaba a cargo de sus asuntos más importantes. Era el único empleado de la empresa que sabía sobre su matrimonio. Desde el principio, la oficina del presidente solo tenía asistentes hombres. Reagan era la primera y única mujer. Su contratación había roto el protocolo, así que otros trabajadores se preguntaban si estaba aquí por la puerta trasera o era alguien especial para Mitchel. Pero luego se dieron cuenta de que él no le daba un trato especial. Curiosamente, eso hizo que la despreciaran más. Después de todo, la empresa es un campo de batalla. Era extraño que Raegan mantuviera tanto tiempo su trabajo siendo tan incompetente. En ese momento, uno de sus colegas le entregó un documento y le pidió que lo llevara a la oficina de Mitchel. El hombre no había regresado a casa anoche. Raegan estaba tan preocupada que no pudo pegar un ojo toda la noche. No podía pensar en nada más que en la mujer que contestó su teléfono cuando ella había llamado. ¿Mitchel estaba con esta en aquel momento? Raegan no podía aceptar ese hecho. Pero intentó mantener la calma momentáneamente. Pasara lo que pasara, merecía un resultado gratificante por todos sus años amando a Mitchel. No podía ser en vano, ¿verdad? Con mucha calma, presionó el botón del ascensor y subió a la oficina del presidente. Antes de salir, se alisó el cabello para asegurarse de tener buen aspecto. Cuando llegó a la oficina, vio que la puerta estaba entreabierta. Adentro se escuchaba la voz de un hombre, así que se detuvo al instante. "¡Vamos! ¿Sientes algo por Raegan o no?". Era Luis Stevens, un amigo de la infancia de Mitchel. "¿Qué quieres decir?", preguntó Mitchel fríamente. "¡Sabes exactamente lo que quiero decir!". Luis chasqueó la lengua con impaciencia. "Raegan me parece una buena chica. ¿No es tu tipo?". "¿Acaso a ti te gusta ella?", preguntó Mitchel descuidadamente. "¿Sabes qué? ¡Olvídalo!". La risa de Luis sonó bastante dura en los oídos de Raegan. Hablaban de ella como si fuera una cosa. Respirando hondo, agarró con más fuerza el documento. Pronto volvió a escucharse la voz de Luis. "Por cierto, esta mañana vi los rumores sobre el misterioso novio de Lauren. Eras tú, ¿verdad?". "Sí". "¡Vaya, vaya! Esa mujer todavía te tiene comiendo de la palma de su mano. Siempre la complaces". Luis suspiró y siguió burlándose de Mitchel. "La ausencia aumenta el cariño. Dime, ¿ustedes dos...?". Su conversación explotó como un trueno sobre la cabeza de Raegan. Su rostro palideció y su cuerpo se volvió tan frío como el hielo. ¡Así que el que al lado de Lauren sí fue Mitchel! Cada palabra se clavó en su corazón como un cuchillo. De repente, varias voces susurrantes llenaron su mente. Estaba mareada. Su visión se puso borrosa. Raegan se sostuvo de la pared y retrocedió un paso. Fue entonces cuando la puerta se abrió desde dentro. "¿Raegan?". Capítulo 2 Amor unilateral Fue Luis quien abrió la puerta, como si fuera a salir. Raegan juntó las manos y se volvió hacia él con un asentimiento. "¡Hola, señor Stevens!". Sin esperar una respuesta a su saludo, pasó junto a él y entró a la oficina con el documento. Mitchel estaba sentado tras un amplio y lujoso escritorio. Se veía bastante guapo con ese traje y corbata a juego. Raegan notó que no era el mismo atuendo que llevaba cuando salió de casa anoche. ¿Cómo se había cambiado? Con la mirada gacha, se tragó la pregunta y dijo: "Señor Dixon, esto es del Departamento de Marketing. Por favor, fírmelo". Mitchel miró inexpresivo el documento mientras lo firmaba. Raegan salió inmediatamente después. Luis aún seguía parado en el umbral. No fue hasta que ella se perdió de vista que se volvió hacia Mitchel. "¡Oye!", susurró. "¿Crees que nos escuchó?". Los atractivos ojos de Mitchel no mostraron ninguna emoción. Era obvio que no estaba escuchando a su amigo. En su opinión, Raegan siempre había sido dócil y nunca había tenido celos de nadie. Su obediencia era todo lo que él le exigía a cambio de tratarla bien. En el ascensor, Raegan aguantó la respiración para retener sus lágrimas. Pero no le funcionó. Había pensado que dos años serían suficientes para que Mitchel se diera cuenta de lo mucho que ella lo amaba y le correspondiera. Ahora resultaba que no era más que una ilusión. Siempre tendría un papel secundario frente a Lauren, su verdadero amor. Reagan se secó las lágrimas una vez que el ascensor se detuvo. De no ser por su rostro pálido, se veía normal cuando se abrieron las puertas. Luego, fue hacia la sala de descanso para prepararse una taza de té. Varios empleados estaban charlando adentro. "Chicos, ¿se han enterado? Lauren Murray ha regresado del extranjero". "¿Y quién es ella?". "¡Oh, Dios mío! ¿No la conoces? Es la heredera del Grupo Murray y una diseñadora bastante reconocida. Y sobre todo es la única novia que el señor Dixon ha mostrado públicamente. ¡Es su primer amor!". "¿Por qué es tan importante que haya vuelto? ¿No se rumorea que el señor Dixon tiene algo con Raegan?". "¿Raegan? ¡Imposible! El señor Dixon nunca admitió estar saliendo con ella, y es exigente a la hora de elegir pereja. Solo mírala. Ni siquiera es tan hermosa. Sin embargo, se comporta como si ya fuera la señora Dixon. ¡Qué ridícula!". En la puerta, Raegan esbozó una sonrisa burlona mientras los escuchaba. Todos los demás veían la verdad excepto ella. Su amor era unilateral. "¡Ja, ja! ¿La señora Dixon se despertó de su sueño salvaje?". De repente, escuchó una voz detrás de sí. Raegan se volvió para encontrarse con Tessa Lloyd, la prima de Mitchel, quien siempre la había despreciado. Tessa también debía haber oído los chismes de los empleados. Lo último que Raegan quería era discutir con ella en la empresa, así que se dio la vuelta para irse, pero la mujer le bloqueó el camino. Con una taza de café en la mano, Tessa comentó sarcásticamente: "Lauren ha regresado. ¿Crees que Mitchel te seguirá dando atención?". Raegan se quedó callada. Tras unos segundos, Tessa continuó con sus burlas. "Me enteré de que eres buena en fingir. ¿Qué pasará si te desenmascaro delante de todos? Sé que te gusta la compañía de hombres...". Raegan apretó los puños. "Señorita Lloyd, estamos en la empresa", espetó. "Si te interesan esos negocios, ya sabes adónde ir". "Tú...". El rostro de Tessa se transformó. Rápidamente levantó la mano y vació la taza de café sobre Raegan. Esta última no pensó ni por un segundo que Tessa haría una locura como esa, así que alzó los brazos para bloquear el líquido de su cara. El café le quemó el brazo. "¡Ay!", gritó Raegan, frunciendo el ceño debido al dolor. "¿Por qué hiciste eso? ¿Estás loca?". Como era la hora del almuerzo, muchos empleados pudieron ver el escándalo. Tessa se mostró aún más complaciente cuando vio que el número de espectadores aumentaba. "¿Por qué eres tan engreída?", escupió. "¿De verdad crees que todos no saben que eres una pobre sin padres? Y tienes el descaro de...". De repente, se escuchó un grito. Tessa había sido silenciada por una bofetada. Ahora estaba boquiabierta. No había esperado que la callada y tímida Raegan la abofeteara. Tessa se sostuvo la mejilla y se la quedó mirando un rato. "Tú...", tartamudeó. "¿Me pegaste? ¡¿Cómo te atreves?!". "¡Sí, te pegué!", espetó Raegan. "Parece que necesitas aprender a tener cortesía". Sí, había perdido a sus padres cuando era niña, pero no permitiría que alguien la pisoteara por eso. Tessa crispó el rostro mientras fruncía el ceño rabiosamente. Como prima de Mitchel, estaba acostumbrada a que la elogiaran y respetaran. Esto nunca había sucedido antes. "¡Raegan!". Tessa arremetió contra Raegan como un toro furioso y alzó la mano para devolverle la bofetada. Pero Raegan estaba preparada para lo que se avecinaba, así que agarró la muñeca de Tessa con tanta fuerza que esta no pudo moverse. Como era más baja, luchó como un pulpo, cuyos tentáculos se habían atascado en una trampa, "¿Cómo te atreves a ponerme tus sucias manos encima?", maldijo. "¿Quién te crees que eres? ¡Solo eres la sirvienta de Mitchel!". Sus duras palabras atrajeron a más personas a la sala de descanso. "¡Suficiente!". De la nada, se escuchó una fuerte voz desde atrás. Mitchel había salido de su oficina, solo para encontrarse con ese alboroto. Toda la sala se sumió en un profundo silencio. "¿Mitchell?". Tessa se quedó helada cuando vio a su primo, ya que siempre le había tenido miedo. Su madre también le advertía que no lo provocara. No obstante, cuando recordó a Raegan abofeteándola, puso una expresión lastimera y comenzó a sollozar. "Mitchel, mira mi rostro. ¡Me abofeteó!". La luz del sol caía sobre el hermoso rostro de Mitchel. Raegan se sintió muy afligida y bajó la cabeza para mirar la parte posterior de su brazo, quemada por el café. Las miradas de ambos se encontraron. Con el ceño fruncido, Mitchel dijo: "Raegan, ¿olvidaste las reglas de la empresa?". Raegan contuvo la respiración ante su crueldad. No podía creer lo que estaba escuchando. Nadie se atrevió a hacer ningún sonido. Raegan se quedó parada con su esbelta figura. Cuando la contrataron, Mitchel le advirtió que el Grupo Dixon no era un lugar para que perdiera el tiempo y que no toleraría ningún error suyo. Raegan entendía por qué adoptaba esa postura. No obstante, estaba desesperada por saber si había oído esas duras palabras de Tessa o si solo estaba fingiendo porque estaba de acuerdo. ¿En serio solo la veía como una sirvienta? Aterrada de recibir la ira de Mitchel, la multitud no tardó en dispersarse. Algunos empleados se atrevieron a mirar desde la distancia, pues no quería perderse de un buen espectáculo. Raegan se estremeció de pies a cabeza cuando vio los ojos fríos de Mitchel. Mirando a Tessa, se pellizcó la palma de la mano para reprimir sus emociones. "Lo siento, señorita Lloyd. Como empleada del Grupo Dixon, fue mi error golpearla". Tessa alzó la barbilla con complacencia. "¡Ja! No crees que quedarás libre de culpa con una simple disculpa. No lo creo...". "La bofetada no tiene nada que ver con la empresa, así que me niego a disculparme contigo. Ahora me retiro", agregó Raegan. Luego, pasó junto a Mitchel sin mirarlo de nuevo. "Tú... ¡Alto!". Tessa estaba echando humo. Jamás en toda su vida había sido tan humillada. Siempre era la acosadora, no la víctima. La humillación era tanta que ni siquiera se tranquilizaría haciendo pedazos a Raegan. "Mitchel, ¿escuchaste lo que acaba de decir esa mujer?", gritó señalándola. "A pesar de que me abofeteó, sigue siendo muy arrogante. Dile que regrese. ¡La abofetearé hasta que llore pidiendo piedad!". Mitchel observó la delgada espalda de Raegan con una expresión ambigua. "¡Basta!", espetó alzando la mano. Tessa no creía que su primo tuviera debilidad por Raegan. Supuso que ella no le importaba en absoluto. "La próxima vez, conseguiré a alguien que le dé una lección a esa tipa", siseó con los dientes apretados. "¡Tessa!". Mitchel la reprendió con un tono helado mientras entrecerraba los ojos. Tessa empezó a temblar. "Solo te lo diré una vez", agregó él sombríamente. "Olvídate de lo que pasó hoy. Deja tranquila a Raegan". Tessa sintió su boca secarse. Todas las malvadas ideas que tenía contra Raegan desaparecieron en un instante. "Está bien...", tartamudeó. "Entiendo...". Mitchel le lanzó una mirada fría y se volvió hacia Matteo. "A partir de hoy, las personas irrelevantes no tendrán permitida la entrada". Tessa empezó a halagar su decisión. "¡Muy bien! Esta es una empresa muy importante. No todo el mundo puede entrar aquí". Matteo dio un asentimiento a su jefe, se acercó a Tessa y le mostró la salida. "Señorita Lloyd, por aquí, por favor". Solo entonces Tessa se dio cuenta de que ella era la persona irrelevante. Si bien intentó hablar con su primo, Matteo le bloqueó el paso y los guardias de seguridad la echaron. No tuvieron ni un poco de piedad. Era inútil luchar. Mientras tanto, Raegan se cambió de ropa cuando regresó a su oficina. Tenía el corazón lleno de tristeza mientras recordaba la mirada de Mitchel hacía unos minutos. Pronto llegó la hora de salida. Raegan tomó su bolso y se dirigió hacia la puerta, pero Matteo la detuvo. "El señor Dixon tiene que resolver algo urgente, así que me pidió que la llevara a casa". Raegan lo rechazó sin pensarlo dos veces. Antes estaba ciega, pero ahora veía toda la situación. No era nadie a los ojos de Mitchel. ¿Cómo podía acompañarla a visitar a su abuela si ni siquiera se preocupaba por ella? Al llegar al hospital, Raegan encontró a la enfermera a punto de darle la cena a su abuela. Raegan asumió su puesto e hizo el trabajo. Su abuela siempre había vivido en el campo, disfrutando de una vida tranquila. Pero todo cambió el mes pasado, cuando su chequeo médico mostró que sus páncreas estaban mal. Raegan insistió en traerla a la ciudad para que recibiera un mejor tratamiento. Su abuela no sabía sobre su matrimonio con Mitchel. Raegan había planeado sorprenderla, pero ya no era necesario. Una vez que su abuela se quedó dormida, salió del hospital y esperó un taxi. A lo lejos, un lujoso auto negro se detuvo en la entrada. Los ojos de Raegan se iluminaron. Era el vehículo de Mitchel. ¿Había venido para recogerla? En ese momento, olvidó todo el dolor que había sufrido. ¿Lo había malinterpretado? ¿De verdad se preocupaba por ella, contrariamente a los rumores? La puerta del conductor se abrió y Mitchel salió del auto. Raegan caminó hacia él con el corazón rebosante de alegría. Pero se detuvo en seco. Mitchel acababa de caminar hacia el otro lado para sacar a una mujer del vehículo. Su hermoso rostro era una máscara de angustia y compasión. La sonrisa de Raegan desapareció y su corazón se hundió. Capítulo 3 Hay que divorciarnos La figura alta de Mitchel se acercaba cada vez más a Raegan; sin pronunciar una palabra, pasó junto a ella. Era difícil saber si realmente la vio o si decidió ignorarla a propósito. Raegan, por su parte, notó que la mujer que lo iba tomando del brazo era la misma que ayer fue fotografiada con él; su nombre era Lauren. Raegan sintió como si sus zapatos estuvieran hechos de plomo mientras se alejaba, perdiendo por completo la noción de las cosas que sucedían a su alrededor; distraída, paró un taxi y lo abordó. De repente, el chófer dijo: "Señorita, ¿a dónde la llevo?". Raegan quedó atónita por un momento. Volver a su casa en Villas Serenity era el último que quería hacer en ese momento, después de todo, era solo cuestión de tiempo antes de que ese lugar dejara de ser su hogar. Después de un rato, finalmente respondió: "Por favor, lléveme a Crystal Bay". Ella compró un apartamento en dicha zona después de casarse con Mitchel. En su momento, tenía esperanzas de traer a su abuela a la ciudad, por lo que compró ese apartamento con ayuda de una hipoteca; no era tan grande, pero tenía espacio más que suficiente para dos personas. Su esposo nunca entendió por qué quería comprar un apartamento; incluso se ofreció a regalarle uno más grande, pero ella se negó. Al recapitular todo lo que hizo en el pasado, se dio cuenta de que comprar ese apartamento fue la única decisión acertada que tomó a lo largo de los últimos dos años. Cuando llegó al complejo de apartamentos, Raegan se sentó sola en el patio, esto en un intento por despejar su mente. Los recuerdos de los últimos dos años eran agridulces; el tiempo pareció transcurrir en un abrir y cerrar de ojos a pesar de que fueron más de setecientos días y noches. Bien decían que el amor podía mover montañas, pero en el caso de Raegan, su amor no fue capaz de mover en lo más mínimo aquella piedra llamada Mitchel. Finalmente se dio cuenta de lo tonta que fue, convirtiéndose en el hazmerreír de todos. Ya era tarde en la noche cuando la chica finalmente decidió entrar a su apartamento. En cuanto salió del ascensor, vio a su esposo parado frente a la puerta. Sus mangas estaban arremangadas casualmente y los botones superiores de su camisa desabrochados, lo que dejaba al descubierto su largo cuello y parte de su clavícula; apoyado en la pared junto a la puerta, su hermoso rostro lucía serio. Raegan se quedó paralizado por un momento. ¿Por qué él estaba ahí? ¿No se suponía que estaba en el hospital con Lauren? ¿Qué lo trajo aquí? Sus ojos se encontraron casi de inmediato. Con el abrigo doblado sobre su brazo y una de las manos en el bolsillo, el hombre entrecerró los ojos en cuanto se percató de su presencia. "¿Por qué no contestaste el teléfono?", preguntó él con un poco de molestia en su tono. Raegan sacó su celular y vio que accidentalmente lo había puesto en modo silencioso; descubrió que tenía cinco llamadas perdidas de su esposo. ¿Mitchel le hizo tantas llamadas porque no pudo encontrarla? ¡Era un suceso sorprendente! Antes de hoy, esto la habría hecho sentir fascinada. Pero ahora, la chica simplemente puso de vuelta su celular en su bolso, se cruzó de brazos y dijo con voz ronca: "No lo escuché sonar". Mitchel levantó la mano para revisar la hora en su reloj antes de pronunciar con impaciencia: "Te estuve buscando durante dos horas seguidas". Después de arreglar todo para Lauren, regresó a casa solo para encontrarla vacía. Buscó a su esposa por todas partes, pero al no hallarla por ningún lado, le pidió a Matteo que revisara las imágenes de las cámaras de vigilancia de todos los caminos que salían de la empresa. Más tarde descubrió que la chica había ido a Crystal Bay sin notificarle con antelación. "La próxima vez avísame cuando tengas planeado venir aquí, ¿de acuerdo? Anda, volvamos a casa", dicho esto, el hombre caminó hacia el ascensor sin dedicarle otra mirada, mostrando abiertamente su intención de volver a las Villas Serenity. Pese a sus palabras, Raegan no se movió ni un centímetro; ella se limitó a mirar su ancha espalda mientras reflexionaba con cierto disgusto. Quería que le avisara cuando tuviera planeado volver aquí... Pero, ¿acaso habría un futuro para ambos? Mitchell se dio vuelta solo para ver que su esposa no había avanzado ni un solo paso. Frunciendo el ceño, él le preguntó: "¿No puedes caminar? ¿Quieres que te cargue?". La luz del pasillo iluminaba su rostro, haciendo que su perfil lateral luciera casi perfecto. La chica respiró hondo antes de declarar: "Hay que divorciarnos". "¿De qué hablas?", la voz de Mitchel sonó fría y su hermoso rostro cambió de inmediato. "Quiero vivir en mi propia casa, después de todo, pronto nos convertiremos en completos extraños". La chica forzó una sonrisa, pero su corazón se estrujó dolorosamente, como si alguien lo estuviera destrozando poco a poco. "¿Seremos completos extraños?", Mitchel sonrió con frialdad antes de lanzar una pregunta directa: "¿Qué clase de relación crees que sostenemos actualmente?". Su interrogatorio dejó a Raegan atónita por un momento. Este hombre se lo había dejado muy en claro desde el principio; su matrimonio era una mera fachada que se produjo de mutuo acuerdo y donde no existía el amor. En opinión de los demás, no eran más que jefe y subordinada. Mitchel era uno de los hombres más atractivos y codiciados en Ardlens; muchas jóvenes ansiaban su amor e incluso estaban dispuestas a emprender toda clase de acciones con tal de obtener su atención. La pregunta que le hizo momentos atrás le recordó a la chica todos estos hechos. ¿Acaso Mitchel tenía miedo de que ella no lo dejara ir tan fácilmente? Si ese fuera el caso, no podría estar más equivocado... Después de morderse el labio inferior para ocultar su amargura, Raegan dijo: "Lo siento, señor Dixon. Creo que pensé demasiado las cosas, pero sí necesito que de ahora en adelante me dejes en paz. No tienes que volver a venir aquí". Después de decir eso, ella no pudo evitar romper en llanto. ¿Cómo no iba a estar triste después de cortar todo vínculo con el hombre que había amado durante una década? Se trataba de un periodo bastante considerable, pero independientemente de lo difícil que fuera, sabía que era hora de superarlo; tenía que dejar de soñar. Curiosamente, en ese momento la luz del pasillo empezó a parpadear. La mirada hostil que Mitchel le estaba dedicando a la chica hizo que la chica se estremeciera. Aunque él entendía que las mujeres a veces se comportaban de manera extraña, sentía que Raegan acababa de cruzar la línea. Los ojos del hombre brillaban como antorchas ardientes en ese momento, pero cuando vio las lágrimas que derramaba su esposa, la rabia dentro de él se extinguió al instante. Entonces, dijo en voz baja: "Si esto es por lo que pasó entre Tessa y tú, yo...". "No, no se trata de ella. Señor Dixon, por favor, vete lo antes posible". En realidad habían sucedido muchas cosas entre ambos, y el incidente con Tessa era el más insignificante de todos. Sintiéndose exhausta, Raegan pasó junto a su esposo y se preparó para abrir la puerta. Mitchel no estaba nada satisfecho con esta exhibición de terquedad; tras desatarse la corbata con irritación, él dio un paso adelante y la agarró por la muñeca. "Detente, ¿quieres?". Un segundo después, le pasó el brazo por el hombro y la abrazó; en ese instante se dio cuenta de que la chica estaba ardiendo, como si alguien acabara de prenderle fuego. "¿Tienes fiebre?". Raegan se sintió mareada, por lo que apoyó débilmente la cabeza sobre el hombro de su esposo. Esto complicó aún más la situación; Mitchel bajó la cabeza para mirarla. Reagan tardó en percatarse de lo que estaba sucediendo; cuando finalmente se dio cuenta de que su cuerpo estaba demasiado cerca del de él, trató de alejarse. Para su mala suerte, antes de que pudiera escapar, el hombre tiró de ella hacia atrás y la sujetó por la cintura. Con una expresión gélida, dijo en voz baja: "¿A dónde crees que vas?". La luz volvió a parpadear. De la nada, Mitchel la levantó y luego se dirigió al ascensor. Aturdida, Raegan preguntó suavemente: "¿Qué estás haciendo?". "¿Qué te parece que estoy haciendo?", comentó él. "Obviamente te voy a llevar al hospital". "¡Por supuesto que no!", la chica gritó a causa de la sorpresa y pareció recuperar más fuerzas. Existía la posibilidad de que se complicara su embarazo en caso de recibir un tratamiento inadecuado; aunque el bebé no llegó en un momento adecuado, seguía siendo su pequeño y era su deber protegerlo. Raegan siguió luchando por liberarse de los brazos que la mantenían cautiva. Sin embargo, su fuerte agarre hizo que sus esfuerzos fueran en vano. "No seas tan terca. Estás enferma, así que debes ver al médico", le aclaró Mitchel con firmeza mientras caminaba hasta el ascensor con ella en brazos. De repente, ella le dio una patada en señal de protesta. "¡Bájame! ¡No quiero ir al hospital!". &15& | LEARN_MORE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/11878375-fb_contact-spj | Heat stories | https://www.facebook.com/61563777993401/ | 339 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn more | 0 | fbweb.manobook.com | IMAGE | https://fbweb.manobook.com/11878375-fb_contact-spj57_8-c201-0506-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214131293880186 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466406927_1296115984734079_2748100250690813793_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=rc5AXI_3IocQ7kNvgGXjsWb&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=APqTf-8pDMts5b_9zj2AVWl&oh=00_AYCao6LEPXEvA2RYJjyYZNCAwFOmzZfDo8ch8la4dOV5qg&oe=675EA9C0 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Heat stories | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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🔞Attention! Do not read in public!👉 | For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take. | LEARN_MORE | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut | Random Reading | https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/ | 321 | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | 0 | Learn More | 0 | beokn.com | DCO | https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}} | 1969-12-31 18:00 | https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/464613788_1229065298338733_5472258890189944958_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=tyYaXVK2ZgMQ7kNvgF8q4DY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AFD6Ak-mu7Ekr2g2u7OYVgz&oh=00_AYCFH7Ae4-F3h_rXRZenfBCLXpVvnWTky9jDkED46o7_Ow&oe=675EB8A1 | PERSON_PROFILE | 0 | 0 | 0 | Random Reading | 0 | 0 | 1969-12-31 18:00 | View Edit Delete |
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