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2,648,381	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648303}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	😍Read the next chapters👉	It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.	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2,648,383	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648303}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	😍Read the next chapters👉	It was actually very obvious whether a man loved a woman or not. Angela Graham knew it very well. For example, Dexter Bamford could spend a fortune buying out all the billboards in the central business district to celebrate the birthday of his first love, Elena Carrey. He did so that the whole city would be able to tell his sincerity toward her. But for Angela's birthday, all she got was just a small, six-inch cake. In fact, it was the very same cake the nanny had gotten on her birthday. Angela chuckled when she saw the cake. It made sense, after all. Although she was Dexter's legally wedded wife, the actual Mrs. Bamford, her job scope wasn't much different from the nanny's anyway. The only extra task she had was sleeping with Dexter. Angela felt tears well in her eyes when she thought about this. The loneliness in her eyes stood out like a sore thumb amid the noisy surroundings of the party. Dexter had been late to the party as always. Actually, he had planned on staying at the banquet hall for a while longer, but he had received a message just then. He opened up the message, not bothering to hide anything from Angela. It was as if her feelings weren't even worth considering at any point. "It kinda hurts… Can you come over?" Along with the message was a photo of a woman's bare back, decorated all over with love bites, as if she had just finished rolling in the sheets with her lover a few minutes ago. It was very suggestive. Angela couldn't even describe what she was feeling anymore. She just felt the discomfort in her stomach start to intensify. She knew the person who had sent Dexter the messages. It was his secretary, Erica Carrey, Elena's younger sister. She had just never imagined that Erica was also one of Dexter's bed partners. Angela stared at Dexter's phone for a long time. It wasn't until Dexter addressed her that she finally snapped back to her senses. "Done staring?" Angela raised her head, her gaze meeting Dexter's dark eyes. Dexter's facial features were partially hidden in the shadows under the dim light. He exuded a cold and aloof air as he threw Angela another glance and nonchalantly slipped the phone back into his pocket. He didn't seem the least bit hurried or anxious at all, and he certainly wasn't remorseful that his wife had found out about his affair. He didn't even care whether Angela would throw a fuss about it. Meanwhile, Angela simply lowered her head like a guilty child who had just done something wrong. She shifted her gaze at once. She just simply couldn't hold this against him. After all, following what had happened the last time, her father, Bill Graham, had remarried, and Angela didn't have any support from her maternal family. They no longer wanted to have anything to do with her. Her mother, Marie Jetson, used to own a company called Jetson Co., but Bill had completely taken over the company. He had also long forgotten his promise to Marie and abandoned Angela for the sake of his new wife, Judy Miller, and her son, Zack Graham. Angela had nothing left aside from the title of Mrs. Bamford. She was just Dexter's trophy wife. She knew that she had no right to question Dexter, the head of the household who provided for her. It didn't matter that she used to be a very famous designer in the industry. Just as Dexter was about to leave, Angela tugged on the corner of his shirt and said, "Dexter, can you come home earlier today? I've got something to tell you." Dexter looked at her with a half-smile and suddenly came close to her. He chuckled in her ear and said, "What, tonight? Someone's eager today. I'm taking this as an invitation." Angela shuddered suddenly. Dexter had never gone easy on her in bed. However, the people around them couldn't help teasing them watching their interaction. They joked that Dexter and Angela kept behaving like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase with how often they stuck to each other like glue. Still, Angela knew that this so-called intimacy was only a show. Dexter had never viewed her as his equal. To him, she was nothing but a decoration item that he owned. He had been forced to marry her, so she was a liability to him. He also thought it was all a ruse to curry favor with him. Without giving Angela a chance to answer, Dexter nodded at the rest of the guests and left the place. … That night, Dexter got home even later than usual. Angela glanced at the clock and saw that it was close to dawn. She sat in the living room as she waited for him. When she saw him enter the house, she got up and approached him. As she took his coat from him, she thought it vaguely smelled like peaches. Obviously, this scent didn't belong to her. She held the coat closer and took another sniff. "Dexter—" Just as she started to speak, she was immediately interrupted. However, it was obvious that Dexter misunderstood her. "What's up? Why are you sniffing like a dog?" He said it nonchalantly, as if reminding Angela about her position in this marriage. She was Mrs. Bamford, a nanny who should always turn a blind eye to Dexter's tomfoolery, serve him food, and satisfy him in bed whenever he wanted. She was not to bother about anything else that didn't concern her. "Whatever you have to say, you can wait until I've showered," Dexter said, walking around Angela as he left. A short while later, Dexter emerged from the bathroom with a head of messy hair. His bathrobe hung loosely on his shoulders, revealing his toned abs and sexy V-line. Angela hurriedly stood up from the couch and didn't dare to look up at him. It had been so many years, and Dexter still managed to hypnotize her like this every time. When they had been in high school, she had accidentally bumped into his table, knocking his textbook off to the ground. From the moment he had smiled at her and told her it was okay, with the sun shining in the back, Angela had fallen for him, hook, line, and sinker. But she then recalled the phone call she had received from Judy that afternoon, saying that Zack had racked up a huge debt from his gambling addiction. Apparently, they had no choice but to put a mortgage on the house Marie had left for Angela to repay his debts. That house had belonged to Marie all along and had nothing to do with them! How could they have done such a thing? Angela gritted her teeth and said, "Dexter, I'd like to participate in the international design competition this year." The prize money was well worth up to eight figures. Angela wanted to use the money to redeem her mother's house. "You waited for so long just to ask me this? Aren't you a little too free now, Mrs. Bamford?" Dexter asked, curling his lips up in a smirk. "You're not suited to reveal your face in public." Angela grabbed Dexter's arm anxiously and said, "I'm not revealing my face to the public. I won't let other people know that I'm Mrs. Bamford." Dexter had long lost his patience. He looked at her mockingly and said, "And why should I believe you?" Exactly. Why should he believe her? The coffee Bill had prepared for Dexter back then had been drugged. Angela had known nothing about it, but they hadn't been able to trust each other for years because she had been the one who had given it to Dexter. Angela released her hold on Dexter's arm. If she didn't participate in the competition, then how else could she get so much money? Suddenly, a huge force swept Angela off her feet. She found herself falling against a cold, steely chest. Dexter's icy voice sounded from behind her. "Giving up so soon? Actually, if you perform well tonight, I can perhaps think about it." "Perform what?" "What do you think?" Dexter suddenly blew in Angela's ear, getting her in the mood. As usual, the lobes of Angela's ears turned a bright red color. Dexter felt aroused all of a sudden. He hugged her tightly from the back and leaned in to kiss her earlobes. Yet, Angela suddenly felt annoyed. Dexter often acted on his primal instincts. He was the only one who had a say in whether they would be having that night or not. Hadn't he just come back from someone else's bed that night? That woman didn't satisfy him? Before Angela could push him away, Dexter's phone suddenly started ringing loudly, ruining the mood. He went to answer the phone. The sound of a woman sobbing could be heard on the other end of the line. Chapter 2 Dexter glanced up at Angela before speaking gently into the phone. "What's the matter? Don't cry." Angela watched as Dexter changed into his outdoor clothes and left for the second time, for some other woman and that too, on her birthday. Her eyes stung with tears. She didn't feel sleepy anymore after Dexter left. Thinking she would get a book or two to read, Angela headed into the study and happened to see a contract. The contract was placed right in the center of the table, as if anyone was welcome to take a look at it. It was a contract between Dexter and Elena, his first love. Angela couldn't believe that they were still in contact with each other. The contract was very thick. It had started when Angela had first gotten married to Dexter, spanning five years. Angela's hand shook. The more she read, the more shocking it was for her. The latest date was actually last night. As it turned out, everything that Dexter had done for her, whether a celebration or an anniversary date, had been meticulously planned out by Elena. That explained everything! No wonder Dexter had been so gracious to set off a fireworks display just for her when she had made a fuss about him and Elena. The fireworks display had been a grand show of colors, lighting up the night with the words "LOVE YOU", the very two words Angela had been wanting to hear from Dexter since forever. She had felt so touched then. She could still remember how elated she had felt when she had seen the two words in the sky. But now, after reading this contract, she finally understood that the fireworks display she had been so proud of had been nothing but another one of Dexter's tactics to toy with her emotions. And yet, she had naively thought that maybe he did have a place for her in his heart after all. Angela closed her eyes. She had never felt such despair like she did today. She was going to have to divorce him. … Dexter didn't return for the rest of the night. The next morning, Erica called, telling Angela to bring Dexter's tie and cufflinks to the company. She told Angela to hurry up since Dexter had an important meeting that day. Angela packed the things and headed over to Bamford Co. However, as always, she was stopped by the receptionist. "Good morning, miss. Do you have an appointment today?" Angela could already recite their next conversation with her eyes closed. "None." "I'm sorry, but you can't go up without an appointment." It didn't matter if Angela proved that she was Dexter's wife. "We're sorry, but we didn't receive any orders, so we can't let you up. It's the same for everyone else." In fact, if Erica were there, she would also mock Angela and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, but Mr. Bamford is the one who sets the rules here." So, this time, Angela didn't give them a chance to humiliate her anymore. She said, "I do, but my appointment is with Ms. Carrey. Please call her and ask her to come down." The receptionist stared at Angela for a brief while before calling Erica. Erica appeared very quickly. "Did you bring the things, Ms. Graham?" She never called Angela "Mrs. Bamford" in front of other people. She was also somewhat dismissive of her, talking to her as if she were just talking to a delivery man. In the past, Angela would always treat Erica with the utmost respect because of her status and position. But now, she was already planning to leave Dexter. "I did. Where's Dexter?" "Mr. Bamford is very busy. You can just hand me the things without having to wait for him. He won't show up anyway," Erica said condescendingly. Angela sighed in relief. She lifted a corner of her lips in a smirk and passed the items to Erica. "Okay. I'll pass you his things. I just thought of telling him that next time, it would perhaps be more appropriate for him to get his driver to send these things to him. "Also," Angela added, giving Erica the once-over. "As his secretary, isn't it your job to make sure that you have at least a few sets of his neckties and cufflinks as a spare? Aren't you being a little incompetent since you don't even have any extra sets for him?" With that, Angela walked away. She couldn't be bothered to argue with a mistress and teach the latter to mind her position. Dexter only caught sight of Angela's back as she left when he came out of the door. He looked at Erica and asked in confusion, "She left?" Erica opened her mouth to say something but decided against it. She didn't know what was wrong with Angela today. Usually, Angela would always beg to stay at the company, and Dexter would always appear when she was arguing with Erica. But it was somehow different today. It was as if Angela was a completely different person altogether. At the very least, she didn't stay back to wait to catch a glimpse of Dexter anymore. Erica frowned. "Yes. She left without saying anything else." Dexter found it strange. He felt a little frustrated too. "Don't bother about her. Hurry up and get to the meeting." The meeting lasted the whole day. It was already evening by the time it ended. Dexter got into his black Luxury car and went straight home to the villa. His driver, Chet Sanders, cut the engine and hurriedly got around the car to open the door for Dexter. As soon as Dexter got out, the maids came out to greet him. "You're back, sir! Madam has been in her room all day and refuses to eat anything. We're not sure if anything's wrong with her." When he heard this, Dexter was stunned for a moment. His eyes turned dark with emotion. Angela must be jealous. She probably didn't like that he had left last night, and she was throwing a fuss because she felt threatened. Dexter went upstairs, jeering at her in his heart. He saw Angela folding her clothes in front of the wardrobe when he stepped into their bedroom. He reached up to loosen his tie, leaning against the side as he openly eyed her from top to bottom. This was Angela, his wife. Aside from that pretty face of hers, she was absolutely useless to him. Come to think of it, she was pretty good with doing chores around the house. She was even better than the nanny at it. Angela didn't make a sound. Seeing that she wasn't saying anything, Dexter didn't feel like questioning her either. He just went to change out of his work clothes. He thought that by the time he was done changing, knowing Angela's temperament, her anger toward him would have already dissipated by then. She would then pour him a drink and gently ask him if he'd had dinner. She would always pretend as if nothing bad had ever happened. So, when Dexter noticed a suitcase at the door after he was done changing his clothes, he stared at it in surprise. "Are you going out?" Dexter asked, frowning slightly. Angela packed up the last of her belongings and raised her head to meet Dexter's gaze. Dexter's eyes were deep, and he exuded an air of elegance. It was still just as Angela remembered him from when she had first met him. He was a brightly shining star, and she simply couldn't take her eyes away off of him. However, as time passed, Dexter had only seemed to hate her even more. Angela stared at him silently for a long time. She stared at him for so long that her eyes began to feel dry, and they slightly welled up with tears. She then took a deep breath and said slowly, "Dexter Bamford, let's get a divorce." Chapter 3 Dexter could hardly believe what he had just heard. Throughout his marriage with Angela, he had only ever seen a submissive and hopeful look in her eyes. He knew she feared losing him. The term "divorce" was probably the thing she had feared hearing the most in the past three years. But now, she had uttered it so casually. When Dexter had seen Angela's retreating back at the office this morning, he had already felt annoyed. That emotion resurfaced again. Dexter questioned in a cold voice, "What? Are you upset because I didn't accompany you yesterday? Or is it because I refused to let you participate in that ridiculous competition? "Angela, are you out of your mind? You cried and begged to be Mrs. Bamford. You live in a villa and have luxury cars to drive you around. I even propped up your failing family. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?" The disdain and contempt in his words made Angela feel a chill run down her spine. She should have known better. She couldn't hold back anymore. She retorted loudly, almost shouting, "Mrs. Bamford? So what if I'm Mrs. Bamford? Have you ever seen a rich man's wife as pathetic as I am?" She stormed into the study, grabbed a bulky contract, and threw it in front of Dexter forcefully. "You should know what this is better than I do! I'm expected to keep up appearances in front of your family. But when I come home, even the household staff can show me attitude! "What kind of wife spends her birthday being yet another portfolio addition to a fireworks designer and is given the very same six-inch birthday cake that was given to the nanny? "While it is true that I got to become Mrs. Bamford because of my family's plotting, I don't want it anymore! Do you have a problem with that?" Dexter found this side of Angela unfamiliar. At the same time, he thought she was being ridiculous. "Do you think you can just get into this marriage and end it as you wish? You'd be too naïve to think so!" He raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Do you think you can come and go as you please in the Bamford family? What about the debt you and your family owe me?" "Whatever the Graham family owes you, go to them. What do I owe you, Dexter? I don't owe you a thing! Even if I did, three years of warming your bed should have been enough to repay it!" Angela countered. She didn't want to argue with Dexter anymore. So, she picked up her only suitcase and turned to leave. After three years of being Mrs. Bamford, all her belongings didn't even fill a small suitcase—this was proof of the miserable life she had been leading. As she approached the staircase, a strong grip pulled her back. Dexter's expression was stormy as he gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Warming my bed? Is that how you see yourself? Ha! It seems I've overestimated you. You don't even know how to be proactive in bed or please me. Shall I give you a chance to demonstrate what you're capable of now?" Angela's eyes widened in disbelief as the dull pain radiated from her chin. Out of reflex and in retaliation, she slapped Dexter. As her hand landed on his face, a loud slap echoed in the enclosed space. The air around them seemed to freeze at that moment. A surge of anger shot up in Dexter's heart. In the next second, Angela felt the world spinning around her as Dexter picked her up and threw her onto the bed. His expression was terrifying, and he exuded an imposing air. Pinning Angela down, Dexter placed his hands on either side of her head. She felt his heavy breaths on her face. They were mere inches apart. Angela tensed up upon sensing the looming danger. As she stared at the vivid handprint on his face, she couldn't help but cower a little. Dexter bit down on the side of her neck and spoke unkind words in the most intimate way possible. "You're making a scene because you're jealous. Are you that bothered about Elena? Isn't pretending your specialty? What? Can't keep it up now?" The mention Elena struck a nerve with Angela. She swallowed down the nervousness from slapping him earlier and tried to push Dexter away impatiently. This was the first time Angela had shown refusal, or it could also be that Dexter was simply too used to their physical contact. Either way, Angela's actions ignited his desire, and he suddenly felt aroused. Angela had always had an alluring figure; she had beautiful curves in all the right places. Though she was passive in bed, they actually got along very well physically. Dexter brushed a few strands of stray hair off her forehead, his gaze darkening. He then leaned in, his lips lingering over hers. One of his hands moved to grip her soft waist. Angela came to her senses and realized what Dexter was about to do. Usually, she found it hard to refuse him when he was this forceful. But now that she intended to divorce him, this forced intimacy was uncalled for. "No, Dexter! Stop…" Angela was unaware of the impact that her soft, moaning tone had on a man. There was even a hint of a sob in her meek protest. Angela cursed herself for being so weak. All it took was a light kiss from Dexter, and what was supposed to be a firm rejection sounded like she was playing hard-to-get instead. Well, Dexter was into this. His wandering hand trailed lower as his lips brushed over her earlobe. "Isn't it too early to ask me to stop now? It always takes a few rounds before you start begging for mercy." Angela's face turned red with embarrassment, and she had a flustered look in her eyes. Even if Dexter didn't want to admit it, he was indeed aroused when he held her intoxicating body in his arms so closely. Just as he was about to tear her clothes away, she reached out and stopped him. Angela asked through ragged breaths, "There are no more protective measure. Are you sure about this?" Dexter paused, and reason took over. He realized that he wasn't that desperate to bed her. After all, having a child with Angela wasn't part of his current plans. Nevertheless, he felt reluctant to let go of her when the mood was just right. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, "Are you threatening me?" "No, I'm simply stating a fact." Angela stubbornly looked up at him, standing her ground. At that moment, something snapped in Dexter, and he found the face staring back at him incredibly infuriating. "You could just take a pill!" he growled, disregarding her objections. Angela's face was wet with tears. Once again, she saw her true worth in Dexter's eyes. Even calling her a bed partner would be too generous. A bed partner had the right to say "no", but she didn't even have the right to refuse. The abrupt ringing of Dexter's phone interrupted their imminent intimacy. He casually picked up his phone, not really concerned at first. But upon seeing who was calling, he quickly lifted himself off Angela. Chapter 4 Dexter cleared his throat with a light cough before pressing the answer button. "Yes, Grandpa?" The robust voice of an old man came from the other end. "Dexter, I may be sick, but I'm not dead. Did you even know it was Angie's birthday yesterday?" Upon hearing this, Dexter glanced at Angela before speaking politely into the phone. "Of course I knew it was her birthday yesterday. I even organized a grand celebration for her." "Hmph! Don't try to fool me!" Joseph Bamford scolded. The next moment, there was the sound of Joseph angrily handing the phone over to his butler, Gary Butler. Gary took over the call and spoke respectfully to Dexter. "Mr. Bamford Jr., Mr. Bamford Sr. has been feeling some discomfort in his chest over the past couple of days. If you have the time, bring your wife along to visit him at Bamford Manor. Mr. Bamford Sr. might not say it, but he probably misses the pasta she makes." Dexter remained silent for a moment before agreeing. "I'll bring her over shortly, Mr. Butler." After hanging up, Dexter calmly adjusted his cuffs and asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Didn't you post any birthday photos yesterday?" With just that question, Angela understood what he meant—the lack of photos had caused Joseph to worry. "Grandpa isn't well, and he's getting on in years. Whatever you may be thinking, keep it to yourself in front of him. Understood?" Dexter warned. Angela nodded wordlessly and got up to get dressed. Joseph was the only one in the Bamford family who had ever truly treated her well. When she had been ten, Marie had end life saving Joseph. After that, Bill had gotten married again, and Judy had become her stepmother. Bill had used this debt of gratitude to secure Angela a foothold in the Bamford family. Feeling sympathy for her and having always liked Angela, Joseph had forced Dexter to marry her. She and Dexter getting divorced was a private matter. So, there was no need to trouble Joseph about it. He didn't need to know. Dexter went downstairs first and picked out a car from the garage. He didn't ask Chet to drive him to Bamford Manor. Instead, he drove the car out himself. The engine emitted a low hum in the night. Angela changed into a white camisole dress and draped a pale blue shawl over it, accentuating her curves. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the pale skin on her neck was partially visible, adding a touch of allure. She forcefully tugged on the handle of the door to the back seat, but it wouldn't budge. The window on the passenger side rolled down halfway, and Dexter's impatient voice came from inside. "Get in the front." Angela hesitated only briefly before opening the door and getting in. Dexter stepped on the accelerator pedal somewhat heavily as he drove off. The inertia caused Angela to be thrown back into her seat slightly, making her frown. She glanced sideways at Dexter, who had one hand resting on the wheel. He was completely focused on the road, seemingly oblivious to her presence. He had always been like this. In their three years of marriage, he had seldom given her any of his attention unless it had been necessary. Over the years, Angela had rarely gotten to ride in his car. The times she had gotten to sit in the passenger seat were few and far between. Now that she was preparing to divorce Dexter, she didn't bother to engage him further. Hence, the drive was silent. The car stopped in front of Bamford Manor, which was on the outskirts of town. With its lush greenery and vast expanse, it resembled castle grounds from the last century—rustic yet grand on the outside and luxurious on the inside. Just as Angela was about to open the door to get out, Dexter grabbed her wrist. "Hold on." She turned around in puzzlement to see Dexter looking unusually serious. "What?" she asked curtly. "Let me remind you again—Grandpa can't handle surprises. Think carefully before you speak," Dexter reminded warily. Angela nodded, her tone cold as she replied, "I know." As she got out, she shrugged her shoulders against the chilly night air. With brisk steps, she walked toward the entrance. Dexter watched her back, noticing that she didn't wait for him. He caught up with her in a few strides and placed a hand over her shoulder. He felt her halt, and her body stiffened for a brief second. Ultimately, she didn't pull away. In the main hall on the first floor, Dexter's mother, Fiona Rosewell sat elegantly, holding a steaming cup of dandelion tea prepared by the maids. She didn't even look up when Gary announced Dexter and Angela's return. Angela wasn't surprised. For the past three years, Fiona had always been indifferent toward her. Once, Angela would have felt hurt upon being given the cold shoulder. But now that she was on the brink of divorce from Dexter, none of it seemed to matter anymore. Knowing that Dexter would never take the initiative to greet Fiona, Angela took the initiative to greet her instead. After a moment, Fiona reluctantly nodded and said, "Oh, you're here. Go greet your grandfather." She sipped her tea daintily—a signal for them to leave her alone. Her gaze lingered on Dexter's hand that was on Angela's shoulder, and she frowned slightly. She had always disliked seeing them being intimate. Dexter, as usual, ignored her and walked straight past her. Fiona and Dexter had been estranged for years. Once, Angela had tried to act as a mediator between them. Now that she had her own troubles, she no longer had any energy to spare them. She followed Dexter into Joseph's bedroom and found the latter looking somewhat weary as he leaned against the headboard. Upon hearing the door open, Joseph looked up. His eyes lit up with joy when he saw it was them. "You're here, Angie! I was just thinking of you, birthday girl. Gary, go bring the gift I prepared for Angie." Joseph's cheerful expression nearly brought tears to Angela's eyes. In this household, he was probably the only one who had bothered to prepare a gift for her. "Grandpa, I heard you've been unwell lately. Don't worry about me. Your health means more to me than any gift you could give," Angela said with concern. She chatted with Joseph for a while before going off to make him some fresh pasta. As soon as she left, Joseph's expression became grim. He looked up and narrowed his eyes at Dexter, who had been silent since he had entered the room. "Cat got your tongue?" The corners of Dexter's lips became slightly downturned. "Didn't I bring her back to see you?" "Don't act innocent, Dexter. I'm warning you, don't keep this up until it's too late. Angie is a good woman—don't take her for granted! Keep an eye on the Graham family. They're not easy to deal with either. "As for that other Carrey woman… You'd better cut ties with her completely! Don't upset Angie, you fool." Dexter mumbled a few vague responses, hoping to end the conversation. Joseph was about to lose his temper when Angela returned with the fresh pasta. "Here's the pasta, Grandpa. Give it a try and see if it is as good as you remember," Angela said. Joseph noticed that Dexter and Angela had barely had any interaction with each other ever since they had arrived. In his eyes, this was a clear sign of trouble. He was especially worried because Angela's eyes no longer shone when she looked toward Dexter. Joseph felt an urgency to intervene on behalf of his oblivious grandson. He took a spoonful of the pasta and praised it. Then, he asked with a smile, "Angie, I'm getting older. I hope that my home can be a bit more lively, you know? When are you two planning to give us a new family member?" Chapter 5 Angela had just gotten out of the car and steadied herself when the black Cullinan drove off without any hesitation, leaving her in a cloud of dust. She stood there in a daze for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh and thought, "That's right. He's always been like this." But before she had time to dwell on her misery, her phone rang urgently. Angela took out her phone and saw that it was an unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Graham? I'm the property manager for Villa Heights. I'm calling to confirm if your property has been sold." "Why do you ask?" Angela's heart skipped a beat. Over the years, she had managed the property, so the contact information listed was hers. However, when Marie had passed away, she had been too young. So, Bill had put all of Marie's assets under his name. When Angela had been young, he had used to say to her, "When you grow up and find your Prince Charming, I'll turn this house into a castle for you both to live in happily ever after!" But in just a few years, everything had completely changed for the Graham family. Angela sometimes wondered if Bill was still the same father who used to love her mother dearly and cherish her. Whenever Bill hadn't been home, Judy hadn't allowed Angela to eat at the table. She had come up with the excuse that girls needed to stay in shape and had made Angela go hungry several times a day. Apart from her outerwear, her clothes had always been too short. The freezing winter wind would seep right into her sleeves and chill her to the core. Angela had developed arthritis at a young age, yet Judy had always complained to Bill, saying, "I don't know what else to do! I pamper her, but she's never satisfied. She's always complaining of feeling pain here and there. Anyone who didn't know better would think I'm mistreating her!" Upon hearing that, Bill had responded furiously, "Can't you let us have some peace, Angela?" The first slap she had ever received from Bill had landed on her cheek at that moment. Later on, he had even sacrificed her for his own selfish desires by sending her to Dexter's bed. Angela hated herself for spending three years trying to win Dexter's love and failing ultimately. Frustrated, she clenched her fists tightly. It seemed she couldn't rely on anyone. She would have to reclaim what was rightfully hers on her own. However, she knew she couldn't rush things—she had to take it step by step. First, she needed to secure her mother's house no matter what. The property manager's voice on the other end snapped her back to the present. "The moving company is clearing out the house, saying it has a new owner." Angela was stunned and felt a surge of panic. Hadn't they agreed to give her more time? Why should she bear the consequences of her good-for-nothing stepbrother's actions? "I'm coming over right now!" She hung up and quickly hailed a cab back to her home. But when she arrived, the house was barely recognizable. The place was filled with unfamiliar men in gaudy clothing. The furniture was overturned. The photos of her and Marie were carelessly tossed on the floor. A fat, middle-aged man with a bald head stepped squarely on Marie's face in one of the pictures. "Stop! Who gave you permission to come in?" Angela shouted angrily. The man turned around, grinning sleazily when he saw her. "The house is mine! I can come and go as I please. And who might you be, little lady?" Angela looked at the fat man in front of her in disgust, pointing toward the door. "This house is mine! I'm asking you to leave immediately!" The man guffawed as he said, "Did you all hear that? She says the house is hers!" The men around him joined in, egging him on. "Since when did you get a wife, Tony? She's fighting you over the property!" "Well, she's pretty, but we've never seen her." "Yeah! Introduce us to your beautiful wife, Tony!" The fat man, Tony Koch, felt emboldened by their provocation. He walked up to Angela with a lewd grin. Laughing raucously, he offered, "Come on, pretty lady. Give me a smile! Tell me which room you like. I'll let you choose first!" Angela silently estimated when the police would arrive after she had called them. She stepped back coldly, her face full of disdain. Tony got even more excited when he saw her retreat. "Hey, don't back away!" He reached out, attempting to touch Angela's cheek. Just then, she heard the screech of car brakes outside. She smiled slightly and delivered a crisp slap to Tony's greasy face. Tony stared back in shock, unable to believe that this delicate-looking woman had dared to hit him. "Why you… Do you have a death wish?" he snarled, grabbing a wooden frame from the floor and hurling it at Angela's head. Angela quickly dodged. At that moment, the property manager arrived and said loudly, "Sir, miss, please calm down. The police are at the gate. Let's handle this peacefully!" Upon hearing the property manager's words, Tony hesitated. However, the mocking looks from the people around him made him refuse to back down. "Fine, let's see what kind of punishment she gets for causing trouble on my property!" … Angela had never expected the person who had bailed her out of the police station would be Dexter. When she saw him, he had one hand on the car window, He looked devilishly handsome. His gaze toward her was filled with disdain. "Well, this is unexpected, Mrs. Bamford." The mocking smile on his face was clear to see. "I didn't expect I'd need to come and get you from the police station on the first day you ran away from home." Angela felt a wave of humiliation but held back her tears. She put on a defiant expression and replied, "Since you find it so troublesome, why don't we just get divorced tomorrow? That way, you won't be troubled by my problems anymore." After some time, he chuckled. "Still acting tough, huh? What makes you think I'll comply with your wishes? Get out!". "Don't call me again if you get into this kind of trouble." The Car Continental GT sped off, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake. Angela crouched down and hugged herself, trying to find some warmth in the cold night. … Over the next few days, Angela rented a small apartment and found a new job. With the police's help, she was granted a three-month grace period. If she could gather enough money within three months, she could buy back Marie's house. During this time, the property couldn't be auctioned or have its ownership title transferred. This meant that she could no longer remain as a rich man's wife who had nothing to her name. The first thing she needed to do was to be able to support herself financially. Things didn't go as she wished. On her first day at work, the HR manager nervously called her over and asked, "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bamford?" Chapter 6 Angela frowned and denied it without a second thought. However, the manager didn't believe her. "Regardless, we just found out that you have no work experience. I'm sorry, but we can't hire a complete newbie like you." Even though Angela repeatedly assured him of her expertise in design, the manager was adamant about not going through with hiring her. As Angela stared at the manager, who looked deeply troubled, she instantly understood everything. It was Dexter! He was forcing her to give in! Amidst the strange gazes everyone was casting her way, Angela took her belongings and left. At that moment, she felt an urge to call Dexter and ask him why he was doing this. Still, she resisted that impulse and refrained from acting on it. She kept convincing herself not to let this get to her. It was just a job—she could find another. Angela dragged her exhausted body back to her rented apartment, only to find her belongings thrown out and lying miserably in the hallway. Nothing had been spared—even her brand-new bedding and toiletries had suffered the same fate as they lay in a pile outside. Shocked and furious, she immediately called the landlord. "Sorry, but I can't rent to you anymore. I'll transfer your rent back," the landlord replied curtly, not even giving her a chance to question him. Seconds later, she received 2,000 money on Venmo. Once again, the image of Dexter's handsome yet maliciously amused face appeared in her mind. Unable to bear it any longer, she called him. For once, he picked up within ten seconds. "What's wrong? Have you finally come to your senses?" His tone was casual, and there were the sounds of a lively gathering in the background. But the moment he spoke, everything around him fell silent. It seemed everyone was waiting to hear how Angela would make a fool of herself. "Are you making my life difficult for fun, Dexter?" Angela asked. Her eyes were red, and her nose tingled. She was on the verge of tears. Yet, she forced herself to stay composed and not let her voice break. On the other end, there was a brief pause before Dexter let out a cold laugh. "Of course I'm not doing it for fun. I want you to experience what life would be like without the Bamford family—" "You're sick!" Angela spat harshly and hung up before he could finish his sentence. Her shoulders shook slightly as she slid down the cold wall as tears finally streamed down her face. She wiped them away, but they wouldn't stop. Dexter knew her pain more than anyone else, yet he had chosen to rub salt on her wounds. "Dexter, you're a bad egg!" she screamed, her chest heaving. After a long while, she slowly stood up and found a hotel through a quick online search on her phone. She needed somewhere to stay for a few days before she could start afresh. … Meanwhile, in a luxurious VIP suite at Mystique Bar, the earlier liveliness had vanished. In its place was an eerie silence. Everyone exchanged looks, seeing the shock and confusion mirrored in each other's eyes. Who had Dexter been talking to on the phone just now? He had been cursed at, and the person had even hung up on him. The shrill exclamation from earlier—"You're sick!"—seemed to linger in the air, weighing down the atmosphere even more. Dexter's expression was grim. The scowl on his face was so pronounced that it intimidated the people around him. He gripped his phone tightly, staring at the phone screen, which showed that the call had ended. The name "Angela" was right at the top of the list of recent calls. Staring at her name, Dexter seemed to see her defiant face in his mind's eye. "What's wrong, Mr. Bamford?" asked a young man. The person asking was Zayn Jewell, a childhood friend of Dexter's. He was the one who had arranged the gathering that evening. "Nothing." After a brief silence, Dexter stood up and lifted his long legs to step over the obstacles blocking his way. As he walked out, he announced, "I'm leaving." He was tall and muscular—even his back looked imposing. Erica was already waiting outside. As Dexter tossed his coat to her, he ordered coldly, "Take me to Bliss Garden." He thought Angela had acted out of line that day and that she needed stern disciplining. Angela's angry outburst reverberated in his mind constantly as he got into the car and seated himself. Irritated, he loosened his tie. Erica asked, "Mr. Bamford, why are you going to Bliss Garden?" Normally, she wouldn't ask questions. Her reaction was out of the norm that day. Dexter's expression darkened. "What? Do I need to report to you now?" Erica turned pale instantly. She lowered her head and explained, "I'm sorry, Mr. Bamford. Mrs. Bamford is no longer at Bliss Garden." Dexter frowned and asked irritably, "What do you mean? Where did she go?" Erica recounted her conversation with Angela's landlord in Bliss Garden succinctly. "Who told you to do that?" Dexter's gaze was icy, and he exuded a menacing chill all over. No wonder Angela had been furious—she had been pushed to her limits. Erica trembled in fear and struggled to come up with an adequate explanation that could justify her actions. However, her mouth felt like it was glued shut, and she couldn't utter a word. "Find her!" Dexter ordered coldly. His expression remained the same, but it still sent a chill down Erica's spine. The gentle summer night breeze blew softly. Angela trudged along the city's main street with all her belongings. She went from one hotel to another. She had to admit that Dexter was ruthless. With just a little effort, he had plunged her into the depths of despair. This was a huge city, yet she couldn't even find a place to stay. Angela had thought about going home, but that place was hardly home to her anymore. Suddenly, it began to rain. As the rain grew heavier, Angela and her meager belongings were soaked through in no time. Angela ran desperately in the rain. Eventually, she found shelter in a self-service banking kiosk. With that, she finally had a moment to catch her breath. She found a cheap motel that didn't require any registration on her phone. When the rain stopped, she took a cab there. The motel was in poor condition, and it had thin walls. So, she didn't sleep well all night. The next morning, she woke up with a fever. She felt hot for a moment, but cold in the next. Due to her sickness, she drifted in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, Angela heard the door open. She jumped out of bed immediately, feeling alarmed. Dexter stepped in, and it was clear he wasn't pleased. When their eyes met, her guarded expression didn't soften in the slightest. She asked, "What are you doing here?" Of course, he was there to watch her misery. What Dexter first noticed upon stepping in wasn't the defensive look on Angela's face. He scanned the shabby room and frowned while thinking, "I can't believe she'd rather stay here than admit defeat and come home." "I came to see what my dear wife has been up to these past two days," Dexter said blandly, sitting down on the dingy couch. The lingering scent of the previous occupants' body odor and sweat clung to it. The moment his nose caught the stench, he stood back up, feeling repulsed. "So, is life on the streets fun?" he asked, looking at Angela with amusement. He observed her frail frame. Though she looked thin and weak, her gaze was sharp and defiant. Something was different about her. "It's none of your business." Angela's head ached, and her knees felt like they would buckle at any moment. Even her voice sounded lethargic. She wrapped herself in her clothes and sneezed. It made her head throb even more. Dexter quickly sensed that something was wrong with her. He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, noticing right away that she was burning up. His hand shot up to her face and forehead, and an even warmer temperature registered on his fingers.	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2,648,386	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648384}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	1,660	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	befant.com	DCO		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&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/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1hyb8ehPR-EQ7kNvgFnIoOW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYB8HWTVyicpUUgvGBsFPtST3iO20F0Wx5qKe09WaQee-g&oe=676EAF6D	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,387	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648384}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	1,660	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	befant.com	DCO		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&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/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1hyb8ehPR-EQ7kNvgFnIoOW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYB8HWTVyicpUUgvGBsFPtST3iO20F0Wx5qKe09WaQee-g&oe=676EAF6D	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,393	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648260}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,774	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	IMAGE		https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468200226_8863044273756961_6312928078787021587_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CnMNMfmKBDEQ7kNvgF-MUaV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYAvnzFJ1aKTZE2aRfiLTST6Mo8sPlUz1lfxwJpOW2B5cQ&oe=676ED044	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,392	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648384}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner." His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers. I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite. The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement. Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world. His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf. My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface. He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry. "Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat. I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my chest under the pendant. His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest. "Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware. My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent. "Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance. “Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf. The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine. He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt. "The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..." "Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary." We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind. "I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately." Raven's skilled hands gripped my haunch, drawing a soft gasp from my lips. His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat. His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure. "You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf." Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more. The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure. "My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna." "Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it. Then his phone buzzed. At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again. Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before. "Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary." He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered. "This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically. I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read. "I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up. "Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it." He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf." "Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway." He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise." The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin. I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him." It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack. Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees. Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory. It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony. The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care. "You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect." The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy. "He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite. The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me. "It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps." The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg. "Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone. Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone. Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed. "Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first." I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk. The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise. My phone chimed. "Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early." The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid. "Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me." The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop. My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's haunch, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago. "This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..." But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago. I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing. His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses. Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty? Chapter 0002 Sylvia’s POV Sleep eluded me after last night's revelation. I spent hours staring at the cold, empty space beside me in our bed. Dawn found me in our kitchen, staring at Astrid's photo from last night. The intimacy in their embrace twisted my heart, even though I knew - rationally - that Raven wouldn't cross that line. Not with James's widow. Not with the woman carrying his dead Beta's child. But hadn't I said that every time before? When did he rush to her side during pack meetings? When he spent hours "comforting" her while I handled pack duties alone? Astrid - widow of James, Raven's former Beta who end life protecting him three months ago. I'd always encouraged Raven to look after her and had even defended him when others whispered about how much time he spent with her. "She's grieving," I'd say. "She needs support." I'd even brought her soup when morning sickness hit. This was different though. This wasn't just another missed dinner or forgotten appointment. This was our wedding anniversary. Moments before that photo was taken, he'd been in our bed, whispering words of love, our bodies joined as one. His marks were still fresh on my skin when he left me for her. "I need to talk to him," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "Calmly. Rationally. There has to be an explanation." "Get it together," I whispered to myself, my wolf stirring weakly within me. "The pack needs its Luna." The monthly safety inspection couldn't wait, even if my mate hadn't come home all night. I forced myself up, wincing at my still-throbbing ankle from last night's fall. My wolf's usual healing hadn't kicked in - another sign of her weakening strength that I couldn't afford to dwell on. The pack grounds were already busy when I arrived. Warriors training, pups playing, daily life continuing as if my world hadn't tilted on its axis hours before. I focused on my checklist, methodically checking each area's safety protocols. The accident happened near the training grounds. I was noting some loose boards that needed repair when a blur of motion caught my peripheral vision. A young wolf - clearly new to the pack from his unfamiliar scent - came tearing around the corner at full speed. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing at something. "Watch out!" I called, but it was too late. He slammed into me hard, his momentum sending us both sprawling. My already weakened state meant I couldn't catch myself properly. Pain exploded through my forehead as it hit the edge of a training post. Warm blood immediately began trickling down my face. "Oh, goddess!" The boy scrambled up, shifting back to human form. His eyes went wide at the blood. "I... I didn't see you!" I pushed myself up slowly, fighting a wave of dizziness. "This is exactly why we have rules about running in the training areas. You could have seriously hurt someone." Instead of contrition, his expression shifted to defiance. "It was an accident! Why are you making such a big deal about it?" "A big deal?" I pressed my hand to my bleeding forehead, trying to stay calm. "You were running full-speed in a training zone without looking where you were going. What if I had been one of the younger pups? Or someone elderly?" "Whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Just wait until my sister's mate gets here. He'll show you how we handle stuck-up wolves who think they can boss everyone around." The surrounding pack members who had gathered gasped. I almost wanted to laugh at the bitter irony - this pup had no idea he was threatening his Luna. "Your sister's mate?" I kept my voice level, though blood was now dripping onto my collar. "And who might that be?" "You'll see." He smirked. "He's coming now. He'll scare you to death." Familiar footsteps approached from behind. My heart clenched as Raven's scent washed over me - mixed with Astrid's. Of course. Of course, she'd be with him. "What's happening here?" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. I turned slowly, dignity intact despite the blood on my face. And there they were - my mate with Astrid at his side, her hand resting delicately on his arm like she belonged there. "Your Luna was attacked," I said coolly, watching his face. "This pup shifted without warning and drew blood. He refuses to apologize." Raven's eyes narrowed at the blood on my face, but before he could speak, Tommy straightened up with a smirk. "You should see my sister and Alpha Raven together," he announced proudly, clearly emboldened by Astrid's presence. "They look like a real Alpha pair. Not like..." His eyes raked dismissively over me. "Tommy," Astrid's soft voice carried a gentle reproof. She pressed closer to Raven, her hand resting delicately on his arm. "You shouldn't say such things. Alpha Raven and I are just... close friends." But her eyes told a different story as she gazed up at him. "He's been so kind to me during this difficult time." Raven's arm moved automatically to support her waist. The gesture was small, but it spoke volumes. How many times had he held me like that? When had that protective instinct shifted to another woman? "She's weak!" Tommy continued, encouraged by Raven's silence. "Can't even dodge a playful jump. How can she be our Luna if she can't even have pups? Everyone can see who really belongs at our Alpha's side—" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears. Can't even have pups. The words struck like physical blows. my weakened wolf, my mate's growing distance - all my private shame laid bare before the pack. "Tommy." Raven's Alpha voice was cold with anger as he focused on the defiant pup. "You've not only broken pack safety protocols, but you've injured your Luna. This behavior—" "Raven," Astrid's soft voice interrupted, breathy with distress. Her hand tightened on his arm as she swayed dramatically. "Oh... I don't feel well..." She pressed her other hand to her stomach, her face going pale. I watched, heartbreaking, as my mate's attention immediately shifted to her. His arm went around her waist, all thoughts of pack discipline forgotten. "What's wrong?" "My stomach..." she whimpered, pressing against him. "The baby..." The baby. James's baby. The child my dead friend would never know, growing in the abdomen of a woman who used it as a weapon. "We need to get you to the healer," Raven said urgently, already turning away. He barely glanced at my bleeding forehead. "Tommy, we'll discuss your behavior later." "But Raven-" I started, my vision blurring slightly. "Later, Sylvia," he cut me off, leading Astrid away. "This needs immediate attention." I stood there, blood dripping onto my collar, watching my mate walk away with another woman. The whispers started immediately: "She's gotten so weak lately..." "The Alpha clearly prefers Astrid's company..." My wolf whimpered, too weak to even growl at the disrespect. The wound on my forehead throbbed in time with my pulse, each beat sending fresh pain through my skull. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. "Luna?" One of the pack healers stepped forward hesitantly. "Let me help with that cut..." I backed away, somehow keeping my feet under me. "I'm fine. Everyone return to your duties. Tommy, report to my office tomorrow morning to discuss pack safety protocols." The walk back to my office was endless. Each step was a battle against dizziness and nausea. By the time I closed my door, my legs were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I slid down the wall, finally letting the tears fall. They mixed with the blood on my face, hot and bitter. My wolf curled up small and quiet within me, as broken as I was. Not because I thought Raven was sleeping with Astrid. Although my wolf was weak, she told me that he did not betray our physical bond. But what hurt worse was watching him choose her again and again. Every time she swayed, he caught her. Every time she called, he ran. Every time she needed him, he forgot about everyone else—including his Luna, his mate, his wife. A knock at the door made me flinch. "Sylvia?" Raven's voice. "Let me in." I didn't move. "Please, little wolf. I brought medicine for your head." A laugh bubbled up in my throat - harsh and foreign. He'd left me bleeding to tend to Astrid's latest dramatic episode, and now he wanted to play caring mate? I opened the door. Raven stood there with a first aid kit and concern in his eyes. The same eyes that had looked at Astrid with such urgency minutes ago. "Let me help," he said softly, reaching for me. I stepped back, maintaining distance. "How is Astrid? And James's baby?" His face flickered at the deliberate mention of his dead Beta. "She's fine. Just stress." "Of course she is." The words came out bitter. "She's always fine after she gets what she wants." "Sylvia..." He sighed, setting down the first aid kit. "You know I have to look after her. After James..." "After James end life saving you, yes. I know." I pressed my hand to my throbbing head. "But when did looking after her start meaning abandoning your actual duties? Leaving your injured mate? Ignoring pack discipline?" "You're bleeding," he said instead of answering, reaching for me again. "Let me-" "Don't." I held up a hand. The look of hurt on his face almost made me take back my words. Almost. But I remembered the photo Astrid had sent, the way she clung to his arm, the countless times he'd chosen her needs over mine. "I love you," he said softly, reaching for me again. This time, I let him pull me into his arms, too tired to resist. "I love you more than anything, Sylvia. You're my mate, my Luna, my everything. I'm sorry I've made you doubt that." Chapter 0003 Sylvia’s POV "Just a bit further," Raven's warm hand pressed against my lower back, guiding me through the pack's shopping district. After yesterday's confrontation in my office, this sudden tenderness felt like a peace offering. "I want to show you something special." My wolf, still weak from whatever was affecting her, nonetheless purred at his touch. Despite everything - the photo, the injuries, the constant presence of Astrid - my traitorous heart still skipped when he looked at me like this, like I was his whole world. "Another apology gift?" I tried to keep my tone light, though the bandage on my forehead from yesterday's incident still stung. His fingers tightened slightly on my waist. "Not an apology. A reminder." He stopped in front of David's Jewelry, the pack's finest artisan shop. "A reminder of who we are together." The bell chimed softly as we entered. David, an elderly wolf with clever hands and kind eyes, looked up from his workbench. "Alpha, Luna! I have it ready." "Have what ready?" I turned to Raven, but he just smiled mysteriously. "Show us your finest pieces, David," Raven commanded, but his voice was warm. "Let my Luna choose what speaks to her heart." David brought out tray after tray of exquisite jewelry. Diamonds that caught the light like Starfire. Rubies deep as fresh blood. But it was a delicate silver necklace that caught my eye - moonstones arranged like a cascade of tears, or perhaps stars falling through a night sky. "This is beautiful." I couldn’t help reaching for it. "Ah." David smiled. "A unique piece. I crafted it using moonstone from the sacred caves. There will never be another quite like it." Raven lifted the necklace gently. "Perfect for my Luna. Turn around, love." I swept my hair aside, shivering as his fingers brushed my neck. The metal felt cool against my skin, but Raven's breath was warm as he fastened the clasp. "Beautiful," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder. The bell chimed again. "Oh!" A familiar voice broke our moment. "What a gorgeous necklace." My muscles tensed as Astrid glided into the shop, one hand resting on her slightly swollen belly. After yesterday's confrontation and injury, I was in no mood for another of her performances. "Astrid." Raven straightened, but his hand stayed on my shoulder. "Shopping for the baby ceremony?" My grip tightened on the necklace. "Baby ceremony?" "Didn't Raven tell you?" Astrid's eyes widened with fake innocence. "He's helping me plan James's baby's naming ceremony. It's tradition for the Alpha to stand in when... when the father is gone." Something cold settled in my chest. "Is it?" "Sylvia," Raven stepped forward, his expression pleading. "As Alpha, it's my responsibility to look after James's family." "And as Luna, it's mine to organize pack ceremonies," I countered. "Yet this is the first I'm hearing of it." Astrid sniffled delicately. "The necklace just reminded me so much of the ones James used to give me... and with the ceremony coming up..." David cleared his throat. "As I mentioned, it's a unique piece. But I have other lovely-" "Please," Astrid's eyes filled with tears. "Seeing it... it's like a sign from James. Like he's telling me he's watching over his child." I felt Raven's fingers tighten on my shoulder. Felt the shift in his energy. I saw the moment Raven's resolve cracked. "Sylvia, love... maybe you could pick another necklace for your birthday? This one would mean so much to Astrid..." The shop went very quiet. "What?" My voice came out barely a whisper. "You have so many beautiful pieces," he continued, not meeting my eyes. "And Astrid has lost so much..." "Are you serious?" I looked between them - my mate of five years and the widow who'd slowly been taking my place. "This necklace was meant for your Luna, your mate, and you want to give it to another woman?" "Don't be selfish," Raven's voice hardened. "I've bought you countless jewels. One necklace won't hurt." "Selfish?" The word hit like a physical blow. "I've watched you slowly pull away from me. I've endured the pack's whispers about my weakening wolf. I stayed silent when you missed our anniversary for her. And I'm selfish?" "Please don't fight," Astrid whimpered. "I never meant... I just miss James so much..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Stop it!" I snapped. "Stop using James's memory to manipulate everyone! If you need help with the baby, we can hire a nanny. The pack has resources-" "No." Raven's voice cracked like thunder. "James end life saving my life. I owe him everything. I will personally ensure his child and mate are cared for." "What about my father?" The words escaped before I could stop them, years of buried pain erupting. "He end life defending this pack too. He end life in a war your father started, Raven. Where was this devotion then?" The room temperature seemed to drop. Raven's face went white, then dark with rage. "That's enough!" Raven's eyes flashed Alpha red. He stepped back, jaw clenched. "You've gone too far." "Have I?" My fingers found the necklace clasp. "Or have you just never gone far enough for me?" Astrid's tears had mysteriously dried. She stepped closer to Raven, placing a hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go..." "No." Raven wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll go. You don't need this stress in your condition." I watched, numb, as my mate led another woman toward the door. Just before they left, Astrid turned back. Her eyes met mine over Raven's protective arm, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, but it was enough. That smile. That calculated, victorious smile. My heart stopped as years of "coincidences" suddenly realigned in my mind. Every time she'd swooned during pack meetings, it had been when I was speaking. Every stomach pain had struck just as Raven and I were having a moment. Every "emergency" had interrupted our private time. All those times I'd defended her to others: "She's grieving," I'd said. But now, watching her triumphant smirk, I saw the truth. The door closed behind them with devastating finality. I walked out of the shop, the bell's cheerful chime a mockery of the moment we'd shared minutes ago. Through the window, I saw Raven helping Astrid try on my necklace and saw her lean into him with practiced vulnerability. My fingers found my phone, scrolling to Elena, my best friend since childhood. The only one who knew everything - about my father, about how I'd fallen for Raven despite our families' history, about how I'd given up my birthright to be his Luna. The phone rang twice before she answered. "Elena?" My voice cracked. "Can I come over?" "Always, love. What's wrong?" "Everything," I whispered, watching through the window as my mate adjusted the necklace on another woman's throat. Chapter 0004 Sylvia’s POV Dawn light crept through Elena's guest room window, painting shadows on unfamiliar walls. I hadn't slept, the events from the jewelry store playing on an endless loop in my mind. The necklace. Astrid's tears. Raven's betrayal. A soft knock echoed through the house. "Sylvia?" Elena's voice carried from downstairs. "Raven's here. He's... he's been sitting at the door all night." My wolf stirred weakly, responding to our mate's proximity despite everything. I moved to the window, and my breath caught. There he was - the powerful Alpha of the Silver Moon pack, sitting on Elena's doorstep like a penitent wolf. His usually immaculate clothes were wrinkled, and dark circles under his eyes matched mine. A bouquet of moon flowers - my favorites, so rare they only bloom at midnight - trembled slightly in his hands. "Go away, Raven," I called down, hating how my voice shook. He looked up, those dark eyes that had once held my whole world were now filled with desperation. "Please, little wolf. Just five minutes." "You gave up your right to call me that when you gave my necklace to another woman." "I was wrong." His voice cracked. "I was so wrong. Please, just let me explain." Elena appeared at my side. "Want me to chase him off? I may not be an Alpha, but I can still bite." I almost smiled. "No. I need to face this." The walk downstairs felt endless. Each step was a battle between my heart, which still ached for him, and my pride, which screamed to remember his betrayals. I opened the door. Raven immediately dropped to his knees, the mighty Alpha kneeling before me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love." "Sorry for what?" My voice came out bitter. "For missing our anniversary? For abandoning me while I was bleeding? For giving my necklace to Astrid?" "All of it. Everything." He reached for my hand. I let him take it, watching as he pressed his forehead to my knuckles - a wolf's deepest gesture of submission. "I've been a fool. I let my guilt over James cloud my judgment. But I promise you, I've fixed it." "Fixed what?" He looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "Everything. I've arranged for Astrid to move to one of the pack's remote properties. I've hired the nanny you suggested. I've deleted her number and removed her from pack meetings. She'll be cared for, but she won't come between us again." My heart stuttered. "You... you did?" "I should have done it months ago." He pulled something from his jacket - a velvet box. "And this... I spent all night searching every jewelry store in three territories." Inside lay a necklace almost identical to the one from yesterday. Almost, but not quite. "I don't want a copy," I said, even as tears threatened. "I don't want another woman's leftovers." "You're right. You deserve better." He set the box aside, still on his knees. "You've always deserved better. Do you remember when we first met? Not as adults, but as pups?" The memory rose unbidden. Me at six years old, lost in the forbidden woods between territories. Him at eight, found me crying under a silver moon. "You gave me your jacket," I whispered. "Led me home even though our packs were at war." "I knew even then." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Knew you were meant to be mine. Through all the fighting, all the politics, all the tragedy - you were my constant star." "Until I wasn't." I pulled my hand away. "Until Astrid needed you more." "No," he caught my fingers again. "I lost my way, but you've always been my true north. Please, little wolf. Let me make this right. Let me prove myself again." "How?" "I'll do anything." He pressed something else into my palm - his phone. "Look. I've already deleted her contact. Check my messages and my calls. I'm an open book to you." I scrolled through, seeing he was telling the truth. "The baby ceremony..." I began. "Marcus will handle all preparations for the baby blessing ceremony," he said, hope blooming in his eyes. "I won't even attend. My place is with my Luna, celebrating our anniversary properly this time." He reached for my hand again. "Just us, little wolf. No interruptions, no pack business, no... distractions. I swear on the moon herself." My wolf whined softly, wanting to believe. Memories flooded back - countless moments of joy and love before Astrid entered our lives. The way he'd held me through my father's death. The way he'd defied his own pack to mate with me. "I need time," I said finally. "Take all you need." He stood slowly, relief evident in every line of his body. "I'll wait forever if I have to." I looked at the necklace again. It was beautiful, but... "I think I'll get you something too. Show you I'm willing to try." His smile - that rare, real smile that crinkled his eyes - made my heart ache. "I love you, little wolf. Never doubt that." I watched him leave, hope warring with caution in my chest. After he disappeared from view, I picked up the discarded necklace box, running my fingers over the velvet. The jewelry inside sparkled, catching the morning light—beautiful, but not quite the same as the original piece. "Maybe I'm being too harsh," I whispered, my wolf stirring with longing. The sight of our proud Alpha on his knees, the desperation in his eyes, the way he'd spent all night searching for a replacement necklace... "Hey." Elena squeezed my shoulder. "I know that look. You're already forgiving him, aren't you?" "Not forgiving exactly," I said slowly, closing the box. "But maybe... maybe willing to try? " I set the necklace box down carefully. "I think... I think I want to meet him halfway. Show him I'm willing to try too." Elena's eyes lit up. "Shopping trip? I know just the places for Alpha-worthy gifts." The mall was quieter than usual this early. Elena and I wandered, looking for something worthy of an Alpha, of the mate who'd just humbled himself to win me back. A familiar voice drifted from the luxury boutique ahead. "Oh yes, my husband is so generous." I froze. Astrid. "These are gorgeous pieces, madam," the saleswoman gushed. "Your husband has excellent taste." "He does spoil me." Astrid's laugh tinkled like snek. "Especially now, with the baby." I edged closer, staying out of sight. "Another piece for your collection?" The saleswoman was wrapping something in silk. "He insists. Says nothing's too good for his..." Astrid's voice dropped sweetly, "family." My eyes fixed on the credit card in her hand as she paid. Black metal with a familiar silver moon insignia - Raven's secondary pack card. Three months ago, he'd casually mentioned needing it back, something about pack accounting and consolidating expenses. "Have you seen my black pack card?" he'd asked then, barely looking up from his papers. "The backup one?" "It's in my wallet," I'd replied, already reaching for it. "Though I've barely used it." "Good. The council wants all secondary cards recalled. Something about tighter financial controls." I'd handed it over without a second thought. My mate is always so responsible with pack finances. Always so concerned about proper protocols. Now I watched that same card—the one that was supposedly canceled for pack security—glinting in Astrid's manicured hands. The card he'd taken from me, his Luna, only to give to her. All those pretty words this morning about ending their connection, about putting our marriage first... while she still had access to pack funds, to his accounts, to his trust. "Your husband must really love you," the saleswoman smiled. "Oh yes." Astrid caught my eye in the mirror, her smile turning razor-sharp. "He does." The world tilted sideways. All his pretty words, his promises, his show of deleting her contact - worthless. He didn't need her number when he was still funding her shopping sprees, still letting her call him husband. My wolf, weak as she was, howled in agony. I stumbled back, memories taking on new, horrific meanings: "I've arranged for her to move..." - To a luxury property? "I've hired a nanny..." - While giving her his credit card? "She won't come between us..." - Because he'd hidden their connection better? My phone buzzed - Raven, sending a photo of dinner preparations for our makeup celebration. Another text arrived immediately after a receipt from the boutique, forwarded from his bank alert. Astrid's purchase was made seconds ago with his card. Chapter 0005 Sylvia’s POV "You manipulative fool!" Elena's voice cut through the pristine shopping atmosphere. Several customers turned to stare as she planted herself in front of Astrid. "Calling yourself his wife while wearing the jewelry you stole from his actual mate?" Astrid's practiced mask of innocence slipped into place as she pressed a protective hand to her belly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just shopping with the allowance my... husband has given me." "Allowance?" Elena spat the word. "You mean the credit card you're flashing around? The one that belongs to my best friend's mate?" "Oh." Astrid's eyes flickered to me, still standing in the doorway. Her lips curved into a poisonous smile. "You're making such a fuss over nothing. No wonder Raven prefers my company. At least I don't suffocate him with jealousy and send my friends to fight my battles." The saleswoman shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should-" "No." I found my voice, at last, stepping forward. "Let's have this out right here. Every penny you've spent is our pack's common property - my mate's money. You need to pay it back." Astrid laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Pay it back? With what money? My mate end life protecting your precious Alpha. The least you can do is let him take care of his friend's widow." She gestured at her shopping bags. "Besides, Raven gives it freely. Unlike you, I don't have to beg for his attention." "Using James's memory again?" Elena's eyes flashed gold. "Is that your only trick?" "At least I gave James pups before he end life." Astrid's voice dripped honey-coated venom. "Poor, barren Luna. Can't even give Raven one child. No wonder he-" The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed through the cafe. Silence fell. "How dare you?" I whispered, trembling with rage. "You use James's memory, manipulate everyone's guilt, play the grieving widow while spending pack money on luxury goods-" Astrid’s wolf exploded out of her, fangs snapping at my throat. I barely managed to dodge, my weakened wolf struggling to respond. Elena shifted instantly, putting herself between us. Astrid's claws caught my thigh before Elena could block her, tearing through flesh and muscle. The pain was shocking—I'd forgotten how vulnerable I'd become. Blood soaked through my dress where her claws had shredded both fabric and skin. But instead of pressing her advantage, Astrid shifted back to human form, one hand protectively curved over her belly. Her eyes glittered with malicious triumph. "How dare you attack me?" she gasped, loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "I'm carrying a noble warrior's child! James's baby!" Her voice turned venomous as she lowered it for my ears alone. "If anything happens to this child because of your jealous attack, imagine how Raven will feel. Losing his best friend's baby because his mate couldn't control herself?" Elena snarled, still in wolf form, but we both knew we were trapped. Any move against Astrid now would make me look like the aggressor—the Luna attacking a expecting a baby widow. "You manipulative—" Elena started to lunge forward, but I grabbed her with my good arm. "Don't," I whispered. "It's what she wants." The world spun slightly as blood continued to soak my dress. The mall's pristine floor now bore crimson droplets. But the physical pain was nothing compared to watching Astrid's smug smile as she wielded her expecting a baby like a weapon, knowing I couldn't fight back without looking like a monster. "Luna!" Sarah, our pack healer, pushed through the gathering crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of my injury. "You're not healing—you need treatment immediately." The world tilted dangerously as she examined the wound. "You need to come to the clinic immediately. You're not healing properly." Elena supported me as we hurried to Sarah's clinic, leaving behind the chaos of scattered shopping bags and shocked onlookers. Each step sent fresh pain through my thigh, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I'd become. "I don't understand," I whispered as Sarah cleaned the wounds. "I used to be one of the strongest wolves in the pack. Now I can barely shift." Sarah's hands stilled. Something flickered across her face. "Actually... I have your latest test results. The ones about your wolf's weakness and the... the fertility issues." My heart stopped. "And?" Elena gripped my good hand. Sarah's smile was radiant. "It's not permanent! Your wolf isn't naturally weak, Luna. And you're not barren. With proper treatment, you could be back to full strength within months." The words hit like a physical blow. All this time... all these years of thinking I was broken... "I can..." My voice cracked. "I can have pups?" "There's no reason you couldn't, once your wolf regains her strength. You and Alpha Raven could start your family within the year." Joy bubbled up through the pain, so intense it brought tears to my eyes. A family. The dream I'd thought forever out of reach. The one thing I'd wanted more than anything. "All those years," I whispered, remembering every disappointment, every pitying look, every whispered comment about the Luna who couldn't give the Alpha heirs. "I thought there was something wrong with me." Despite the pain in my thigh, despite the morning's confrontation, hope bloomed in my chest. Raven had sworn to make things right between us. With my condition treatable, with the possibility of pups in our future... "I have to tell him," I breathed, sliding off the examination table. "Elena, I have to" "Go." She hugged me carefully. "But be careful. " I barely felt my injuries as I rushed home, my heart lighter than it had been in months. A future stretched before me - one with strong pups playing in our yard, my wolf running freely under the moon, my mate's proud smile as our family grew... But... The sight of luggage in our driveway stopped me cold. Expensive suitcases. Designer bags. A small mountain of possessions was carried into my home by pack servants. "Ah, Sylvia." Raven appeared in the doorway, his expression grave. "We need to talk." "What's going on?" But I knew. Deep in my soul, I knew. "I heard about the fight." His voice held disappointment. Like I was a misbehaving pup. "Attacking a expecting a baby she-wolf? Causing her such stress in her condition?" "She attacked me! Her wolves-" "After you slapped her." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, given the situation, Astrid doesn't feel safe in the remote property. She doesn't trust the nanny, not after this. She needs to be somewhere I can personally ensure her safety." "So you're moving her into our home?" The words tasted like ashes. "Just until she calms down. Until she feels secure again." He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It's the only way to protect James's child." The test results burned in my pocket. The hope of our own family turned to dust. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "Your Luna." "And she's carrying my best friend's baby." Finally, he looked at me. "A friend who end life for me. Please, Sylvia. Just until the baby comes." ohhh, her smile. All this time, I'd been playing a game I didn't even know the rules to. Every move I made pushed Raven further into her web. Every reaction gave her more power. And now she was moving into my home. My territory. My life. The joy of the test results crumbled to nothing as I watched another woman claim my space, my mate, my future. I felt like a fool. Chapter 0006 Sylvia’s POV "You can't just bring her into our home without even discussing it with me," I said, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. We stood in our bedroom, where hours ago I'd been celebrating the possibility of having pups, of fixing our marriage. Now those dreams felt like ashes in my mouth. "What would you have me do, Sylvia?" Raven ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You attacked a expecting a baby she-wolf." "I slapped her," I cut in. "After she flaunted your credit card after she called herself your wife after she mocked our inability to have pups. One slap, Raven. And in return..." I yanked up my skirt, revealing the angry red gashes that scored my thigh. The wounds still hadn't healed—a testament to my wolf's weakened state. "Look at what your precious widow did to me, Raven. Look!" His eyes widened as he took in the wounds. For the first time since this mess began, I saw genuine shock cross his face. "She did this to you?" His fingers reached out but stopped short of touching the wounds. "Oh, Raven!" Astrid's voice cracked perfectly on his name as she appeared in our doorway. Her timing, as always, was impeccable. Tears sparkled in her wide eyes, one hand pressed to her belly while the other braced against the doorframe. The very picture of a distressed expecting a baby woman. "I was so scared," she whispered, those tears now sliding down her cheeks. "When she slapped me... all I could think about was the baby. James's baby." Her voice broke on his name. "I just... I reacted. My wolf... she only wanted to protect our pup." I watched my mate's face, seeing the conflict war across his features. The wounds on my leg spoke of violence, but Astrid's tears spoke of vulnerability. My strong, decisive Alpha—the man who could command hundreds of wolves with a single word—stood frozen between his mate and his supposed responsibility. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken accusations. Through our weakened bond, I felt his turmoil, his desire to protect both women before him. "Astrid," he said finally, his voice carrying that Alpha authority I used to love. "Regardless of provocation, you attacked my mate. The Luna of this pack. That cannot happen." Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. Finally, he was seeing through her act— "You're right!" Astrid's knees buckled as she sank to the floor, one hand still protectively curved over her belly. The movement was graceful despite her apparent distress. Everything about her was always so perfectly choreographed. "You're absolutely right, Alpha. Luna." She turned those tear-filled eyes to me. "I was wrong. So wrong. I should never have let my fear control me. Without James, I just feel so... so vulnerable. Every threat seems so much bigger." My wolf wanted to snarl, to expose her manipulation. But I'd played this game before. Every time I reacted to her provocations, I looked like the aggressor. Every time I called out her manipulation, I seemed paranoid. "Get up," I said coldly, watching her performance with new eyes. "Save your tears for someone who hasn't seen both your faces. The sweet, helpless widow you play for Raven, and the smirking manipulator who sent me that photo on our anniversary night." "Sylvia!" Raven's reproachful tone made my wolf whimper. "She's apologizing. She's carrying James's pup—" "James's pup," I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "How convenient. The perfect shield, isn't it? Every time you want something, every time you overstep, you just need to mention James or pat your belly, and everyone falls in line." "Please," Astrid whispered, her voice small. "I know I've made mistakes, but I'm trying—" "Trying to take my place?" I stepped toward her, noting how she shrank back even as her eyes glittered with challenge. "Trying to move into my home? Trying to steal my mate?" "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice resonated through the room. "Both of you need to calm down." I turned to him, really looked at him. My mate. My Alpha. The man I'd loved since we were pups ourselves. Five years of marriage, of building a life together, and he still couldn't see what was right in front of him. "No," I said quietly. "No more calming down. No more understanding. No more compromises." I met his eyes steadily. "One of us needs to leave this house, Raven. Your mate, or your... whatever she is to you. Choose." Astrid's soft sobs provided the perfect backdrop to our drama. Everything about her was perfect—her timing, her tears, her helpless widow act. And I was done competing with it. Raven straightened, his Alpha authority filling the room. "Astrid, please wait downstairs. I need to speak with my mate alone." She hesitated, her hand still pressed to her belly, but even she couldn't disobey a direct Alpha command. As she left, her scent—jasmine and honey—lingered unpleasantly in our bedroom. I turned back to my closet, yanking clothes from hangers. "There's nothing to discuss. You've made your choice clear." "Stop." His hands caught mine from behind, stilling my frantic movements. His chest pressed against my back, his scent—pine needles and winter frost—surrounding me, making my wolf stir with longing despite everything. "Just... stop, little wolf." "Don't call me that," I whispered, but didn't pull away. His warmth was achingly familiar, reminding me of countless intimate moments we'd shared in this room. "Let me at least tend to your wounds," he murmured, his breath warm against my neck. I hesitated... He guided me to sit on our bed, the same bed where just this morning I'd dreamed of having his pups. He knelt before me, gently examining the gashes on my thigh. Through our weakened bond, I felt his genuine distress at seeing me injured. "These should have healed by now," he said softly, reaching for the medicinal salve. His fingers were gentle as they spread the cooling substance over my wounds. "Your wolf's healing..." "Has been weak for months," I finished. "But you've been too busy with Astrid to notice." His hands stilled on my leg. Then they moved higher, past the wounds to uninjured skin. The mate bond hummed between us as his touch became less clinical, more intimate. "I've noticed everything about you," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they met mine. "Your scent changing. Your wolf's quietness. The way you pull away from me." His hands slid higher, making me gasp. "I've just been too much of a fool to do anything about it." "Raven..." I meant it as a warning, but it came out as a plea. His lips found mine, tasting of regret and desire. Each kiss felt like an apology, each touch a promise. The mate bond sparked between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his guilt, his love, his need. I should have stopped him. Should have maintained my anger, and my resolve. But five years of love don't end life easily, even when poisoned by betrayal. And right now, with his scent surrounding me, his hands erasing every memory of pain, I needed this connection. Chapter 0007 Sylvia’s POV The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow through the bedroom window. His tall frame casts a shadow over me. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. We hadn't been this close in months. "I'm sorry," he finally said, his voice low. "I'm truly sorry, little wolf, forgive me." His apology was filled with regret and longing. I want to forgive him and let go of the sadness and anger that has consumed me for so long. But part of me is scared, scared that if I allow myself to feel again, it will only lead to more pain. "Don't, Raven," I said, pushing his hand away, but not firmly. "We both need time to calm down. "But Raven didn't care. He continued to kiss me "I don't want to calm down," he murmured, his breath rolling over my skin. "I want you, little wolf. Right now. " The intensity in his voice turned me and my wolf on, and my wolf let out a sound of pleasure in my head. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his lips on mine, soft and insistent. It had been a long time since we had kissed like this, and a long time since I had felt the heat of his desire. He licked over the spot I'd marked and growled, his eyes were all over me now, "Baby, spread your legs." His voice got hotter, "Please baby, let me in." My body trembled with anticipation as I obeyed, opening up for him. Raven's hands were gentle but firm as he guided himself to fill me completely. The sensation was overwhelming, the mixture of pleasure and pain bringing tears to my eyes. "Look at me," he said with emotion in his voice. "Don't hide from me." I meet his gaze, my vision blurred by tears. He kisses my face, kisses away my tears, and begins to move inside me. I can feel the wolf inside him, its primal instincts driving him forward, demanding fulfillment. "That's it," Raven growled, his haunch shaking harder. "I love you, little wolf, believe me." For a moment, everything felt perfect—like we'd finally found our way back to each other. The mate bond hummed between us, stronger than it had been in months, carrying echoes of his desire, his guilt, his need for forgiveness. Afterward, we lay tangled in the sheets, our scents mingled in the air. His hand traced lazy patterns on my skin as my wolf purred contentedly within me. Our knots of tension and mistrust had loosened, if not completely untied. I was in the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep. But in the middle of the night, I woke to cold sheets beside me. Raven's warmth was gone, his scent fading. My weakened wolf stirred uneasily, the mate bond pulling me toward... Astrid's room. No. Not tonight. Not after we'd just... But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by an instinct I couldn't ignore. The hallway seemed endless as I approached her room, my heart pounding with each step. Through the doorway, I saw them—my husband, who had been making love to me just hours ago, now holding Astrid in his arms as she cried. I pressed against the wall beside the door, my wolf straining to hear their words. "It's not fair," Astrid sobbed, her face pressed against his chest. "None of this is fair." "I know." Raven's voice was so gentle, so intimate. It made my stomach turn. "We had something real," she whispered. "Before the moon goddess interfered, before her destiny tore us apart..." My heart stopped. What? "Astrid..." Raven's voice held such history, such pain. "We can't change the past." "Can't we?" Her fingers clutched his shirt—the same shirt I'd helped him remove hours ago. "Tell me you don't think about it. About us. About what we had before she came along." The silence that followed was deafening. Raven's hesitation spoke volumes. "My marriage to Sylvia..." he finally said, his words careful, measured. "It's not reluctant. I do care for her." Care. Not love. Never love. "But it's not the same," Astrid pressed. "What we had was real. The moon goddess might have chosen her for you, but your heart chose me first." My legs trembled as memories realigned in my mind. Every time he'd pulled away. Every time he'd chosen Astrid over me. Every time he'd made me feel like I was asking for too much by wanting my mate's full attention. "The child..." Astrid's voice dropped to a whisper, her hand moving to her belly. "Sometimes I wonder..." Raven cut her off quickly. "Don't. That path only leads to pain." I listened as Astrid continued, her voice breaking with practiced perfection as she detailed her struggles, her loneliness, and her fear. Each word was carefully chosen to twist the knife of guilt deeper into Raven's heart. My wolf whimpered within me, but for once, it wasn't from weakness. It was from heartbreak. All this time, I'd thought Astrid was trying to steal my mate. But she'd had him first. She'd loved him first. And some part of him had never stopped loving her. The Moon Goddess herself broke them up, forcing him to accept me as his mate. I was the Moon Goddess's choice, but not his heart's, and our union was never complete. I struggled with my emotions, torn between rage and devastation. Part of me sympathized with Astrid—losing the man she loved to another woman must have been painful. But then I remembered her calculated manipulations, her triumphant smirks, her deliberate interference in my marriage. My sympathy withered. "I know I should let you go," Astrid was saying, her voice thick with tears. "But seeing you with her... knowing what we once had..." Raven's silence was another knife in my heart. He should be denying this. Should be pushing her away. Should be honoring our mate bond, especially after the intimacy we'd just shared. Instead, he held her closer, offering comfort that wasn't his to give. The wolf inside me—my proud, fierce wolf that had been growing mysteriously weaker—finally stirred with purpose. She wanted to burst in there, to confront them both, to demand answers about all the lies and I needed to think. Needed to plan. This wasn't just about a widow seeking comfort anymore. This was about a woman who'd lost her lover to a mate bond, who'd married his best friend instead, and who was now using that friend's death and her expecting a baby to reclaim what she'd lost. And my mate... My Raven... he was letting her. I pushed away from the wall, my feet silent on the carpeted floor as I retreated. Their voices followed me—Astrid's perfectly timed sobs, Raven's gentle comforting words. Words that should have been mine. Comfort that belonged to his mate, not his former lover. In our bedroom—the same room where he'd touched me so tenderly just hours ago—I sank onto the bed. His scent still clung to the sheets, but now it felt tainted. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered promise... had he been thinking of her? Wishing I was her? Chapter 0008 Sylvia's POV Morning light filtered through the windows as I stood outside Astrid's room, my resolve hardened by last night's revelations. No more games. No more manipulation. This had to end. I knocked sharply. "It's me, Sylvia. Astrid. We need to talk." She opened the door with that perfectly practiced innocent expression. "Oh, Luna! What a surprise..." "Save it." I pushed past her into the room, then stopped cold. I was surprised to see on her dresser sat my mother's silver urn—the one thing I had left of her, the most precious possession in my entire home. "Oh, that?" Astrid smiled sweetly. "Such a lovely piece. Raven told me all about your mother... how she end life protecting your father, who then end life protecting his pack. So tragic." My wolf bristled at her casual handling of my family's pain. "This ends now, Astrid. I heard you last night. I know everything—about your relationship with Raven, about how the moon goddess separated you." "Finally figured it out, did you?" Her mask slipped, revealing the snake beneath. "Took you long enough. Five years of marriage, and you never wondered why he runs to me every chance he gets?" "You need to leave," I said firmly. "Find another pack, another life. Stop poisoning my marriage." She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Your marriage? Do you mean the one forced on him by the moon goddess? The one that stole him from me?" "He's my mate—" "He's my love!" She snatched up my mother's urn. "I had him first. We chose each other. You? You're just some cosmic joke forced on him by fate." "Put that down." My voice shook with barely contained rage. "Or what?" Her fingers loosened on the urn. "You'll attack a expecting a baby woman? Prove to everyone what a monster you really are?" "Astrid—" " "You know what's funny?" She started pacing, still holding my mother's ashes. "How easy it was to make him doubt you. A few tears here, a swoon there... He's so desperate to atone for his father's sins against your family that he never questions my motives." "This isn't about Raven anymore," I growled. "This is about you using my dead friend's child as a weapon. James deserved better than that." Her eyes flashed. "Don't you dare speak his name! James was a fool who end life for his precious Alpha, leaving me to play grieving widow. But it worked out perfectly, didn't it? Now I have the perfect excuse to stay close to Raven." "You're insane." I stepped toward her. "Give me my mother's urn." "Your mother?" She sneered. "Another weak wolf who end life for nothing. Like father, like daughter—always playing the noble sacrifice. It's pathetic." Something snapped inside me. "Give. Me. The. Urn." "Come get it." And then, with a smile that showed her true nature, she let it slip from her fingers. Time slowed. I lunged forward, but my weakened wolf wasn't fast enough. The silver urn shattered on the hardwood floor, my mother's ashes scattering like gray snow. "Oops." Astrid's voice dripped false concern. "How clumsy of me." A sound escaped me—part wolf, part human, pure anguish. My mother's ashes... all I had left of her... "What's wrong, Luna?" Astrid taunted. "Upset about a little spilled dust? Like mother, like daughter—both of you just dirt on the ground." I moved without thinking, grief and rage propelling me forward. Astrid backpedaled toward the balcony doors, her hand on her stomach, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Stay back!" she cried, a voice suddenly loud enough to carry. "Please! Think of the baby!" "You did this on purpose," I snarled. "Everything—the urn, backing toward the balcony—it's all another manipulation!" She smirked. "Yes, but no one will believe you, Luna. Poor Luna." Then, with the grace of a dancer, she let herself fall backward through the open doors. A normal wolf would have easily caught themselves—the drop was nothing to our kind. But Astrid didn't even try. She just fell, her scream piercing the morning air. "I promise I'll never go near Raven again!" she wailed as she fell. "Please don't hurt my baby!" "Sylvia!" Raven's roar came from below. Of course, he was there. Of course, she'd timed this perfectly. I rushed to the balcony, looking down to see Astrid sprawled dramatically on the ground, Raven already at her side. Pack members gathered, drawn by her scream. "What happened?" Raven demanded, though his eyes said he'd already decided. "She—she attacked me," Astrid sobbed. "Said she was tired of me being around. When I told her I'd leave, she said it was too late. That she'd make sure there was nothing left to keep you tied to me..." "That's not true!" I called down. "She broke my mother's urn—" "You want to know what she said, Raven?" Astrid's voice carried clearly. "She said her father was the true Alpha of the Cold Moon tribe. That you only have your position because of her family's sacrifice. She said she's always looked down on you, that she only tolerates you because of the mate bond." Raven's face darkened with each word. "Sylvia. Get down here." I descended the stairs, my legs shaking with fury. "She's lying. She deliberately broke my mother's urn to provoke me—" "A high fall like that wouldn't hurt a wolf," I argued. "She didn't even try to land properly!" "I was scared!" Astrid wailed. "When she came at me, all I could think about was protecting the baby. I... I just panicked." She leaned into my husband's arms and gave me a provocative look. She thought I would come forward again in anger, she thought I would, but I didn't. I suddenly felt confused, their faces were in front of me, but so unreal. "Enough!" Raven's Alpha voice rang out. His eyes, when they met mine, were cold with fury. "I've seen enough. Heard enough." "Raven, please—" "You attacked expecting a baby woman. Used your father's name to undermine my authority. Threatened an innocent child." Each accusation felt like a physical blow. "I've been patient. Been understanding. But this? This is unforgivable." My wolf cowered at his tone, but I forced myself to stand tall. "If you'd just listen—" "No more listening." His voice dropped to something terrible and final. "You want to act like a traitor? Fine. I'll treat you like one. Perhaps the Blood Moon pack needs a new slave. They know how to handle rebellious wolves." The world stopped. The Blood Moon pack. Known for their cruelty. For breaking wolves into mindless servants. My mate—the man I'd loved since childhood—was threatening to send me there. He was going to hurt me, and in the crook of his arm, he was guarding another woman in a protective position. Something deep inside me shattered. Not just my heart, but every dream, every hope, and every bit of love I'd ever felt for him. "A slave?" My voice came out strange and cold. "That's what I am to you now? Not your mate? Not your Luna? Just a disobedient wolf to be sold off?" He faltered slightly at my tone. "Sylvia—" "No." Power rose in me—not my weakened wolf, but something older. Something primal. I stood straight as I stared into his eyes, fearless. "I, Sylvia, the Luna of Cold Moon pack, now break the mate bond with you, Raven, the Alpha of... "	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	1,660	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	befant.com	DCO		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15909&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/t39.35426-6/468320331_1286055129255157_6112139950753879329_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1hyb8ehPR-EQ7kNvgFnIoOW&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYB8HWTVyicpUUgvGBsFPtST3iO20F0Wx5qKe09WaQee-g&oe=676EAF6D	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,397	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-K	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	47	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106347990250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469813151_2364611147210702_3897264206819948599_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sR1JYjMAkD0Q7kNvgEtIsL2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYCgCxOd7qF1Mog3chItLeAXvt8kTy_oXphBXJzo9Bq1Xw&oe=676EAE06	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-K	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,404	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-K	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	47	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106466920250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469780861_2871668089657457_4945018324417384158_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=RwMc9NlcyB4Q7kNvgG_NIsx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYAgtp8Xr6SI_6cJWovGK-ROY4NJYcaPYGSZHqD5EyPufg&oe=676EC544	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-K	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,426	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	閱讀下一章👉	她愛上拯救她的陌生男人，卻得知他竟然就是拿她父親貪污案做墊腳石上位的新任市長！血海深仇，她毅然離去，男人卻瘋了，滿城尋她求原諒！ ===== “季小姐，出來吧，你叔叔已經將你五十萬賣給我了，以後跟著我吃香喝辣，你什麼活也不用幹，只管敞開腿伺候就成。” 轟隆聲響起，暴雨傾盆而下，一道閃電劈開長夜照亮了男人肥肉橫生的猥瑣面孔，他半邊臉擠在門框上變了形，眼神卻不停往門縫裡瞄。房間內，季靈希渾身發抖的死死抵著門。 “滾……滾啊！！”她崩潰大喊，“我有未婚夫，他不會放過你的！” “未婚夫？你是說那位許家孫少爺？”男人爆發出嘲笑，“怎麼？季小姐不會還不知道自己早已經被退婚了吧？嗤，被玩膩的破鞋，還裝什麼矜持！” 說完，他肥豬一般的龐大身軀猛然往脆弱的門上一撞！ “啊！”季靈希被突然劇震的門板嚇到後退，雙手顫抖，“退婚？不可能，不可能……” 可真的不可能嗎？自從一個月前，季靈希的父親被誣陷貪汙腐敗入獄，母親車禍後昏迷不醒，整個季氏家族就走向了衰亡。鉅額家產被全部凍結清算，一夜之間，她從千金小姐變成了負債上億的乞丐。明天她所在的這套房子也要被查封，她是來取最後的行李的，卻正好被那二叔拿捏了行蹤，居然要乘機將她賣給這將近五十歲的死肥豬男！眾叛親離，她徹底一無所有了！門外，那死肥豬男的不耐煩的聲音再次傳來：“老子可沒耐心陪你玩小兔子乖乖的開門遊戲，去！讓人把鑰匙送上來！” 他有鑰匙！季靈希猝然白了臉，一旦門被破開，結局可想而知。到時候就算是被侵犯致死都沒人會來替她收屍！逃！季靈希腦海裡只剩下這一個念頭。身後窗戶大開，狂風裹挾著暴雨入侵，溼透的窗簾翻飛，天際電蛇狂舞，雷聲轟鳴。她含著淚一咬牙，猛地衝到了窗前。二樓而已，摔不死！縱身一躍—— 在大腦都壓根沒反應過來之前，人已經滾落在了地面草坪上，渾身溼透沾著汙泥。 “嘶！”說不出到底是哪疼，總之通身都像是要摔散架一般。 “人呢？”“翻窗跑了！”聲音從二樓傳來。季靈希立刻胡亂爬起來，逃命時腎上激素的飆升讓她爆發出無與倫比的潛力。逃，快逃，快逃啊！她趁著夜色和暴雨的掩蓋，就這樣生生衝出了灌木叢生的後院，往路口奔跑而去。與此同時，馬路盡頭一輛黑色紅旗飛馳而來，車燈射穿雨幕，照在了突然出現，試圖橫穿馬路的黑影身上！ “我去！”司機沒忍住爆了一聲粗口，猛踩剎車的同時狂打方向盤。後座衣衫考究的斯文男人猝不及防被巨大的慣性所挾持，一腦袋撞在了前座靠背上。 “砰”一聲悶響。司機頓時魂飛魄散，“市市……市長先生！你沒事吧！？” 男人黑著臉，“你應該問問被你撞的人有沒有事。”說完，他推門下車查看。黑色傘面被暴雨沖刷，男人腳踩一雙高定皮鞋，踏著汙水來到昏倒在地的女人面前。司機哭喪著臉，“我明明踩剎車了，好像沒撞到她啊？” “不是你撞的。”男人一眼看出端倪，冷笑了聲，“碰瓷？膽子倒大。” 說完，他冷漠收回目光，轉身就走。 “等等……”剛剛還“昏迷”不醒的女人突然出聲，伸出一隻髒兮兮的手，飛快地拽住了男人剪裁利落乾淨的褲腳，抬起臉虛弱道：“別走，他們在追我，求你救、救我……” 這個聲音…… 男人腳步一頓，回過頭來，漆黑的眸子居高臨下看清了車燈下那張沾著泥土的臉，瞳孔驟縮。 “這、這不是孫少爺的未婚妻嗎！是市長先生您的侄媳婦啊！”司機率先驚叫。 “呵，”男人語調嘲諷，“我侄媳婦？” 他們在說什、什麼……什麼市長媳婦的…… 季靈希眼前男人的臉早就化作重影，耳邊一片嗡嗡，逃到這裡已經耗盡了她所有的力氣，到最後也只能全憑本能的死死抓著那塊一絲一線都昂貴至極的“救命稻草”不放。男人似乎蹲下了身，但季靈希已經徹底支撐不住，昏厥了過去。第2章私人醫生再醒來是在陌生的房間，窗外是炫目的白晝。床邊穿著白大褂的醫生正在收拾工具，見季靈希睜眼，立刻高呼：“先生，人醒了！” 男人很快推門進來，對上了床上女人一雙迷茫受驚的小鹿般的眼，眼底是深刻的防備和恐懼。他走近床邊，“醒了？燒退了嗎？” 冰冰冷冷，有點熟悉的聲音，更熟悉的是那張面無表情的臉。 “……許先生？”季靈希認出人，瞪大眼睛，“怎麼是你？” 這個男人她認識，是她的患者。季靈希大學一畢業就入職了京市第一人民醫院心內科，許盛廷是她接手的第一個病人。但神奇的是，許盛廷患有的並非是任何心臟類疾病，而是應該歸屬為精神科的睡眠障礙。他患有嚴重失眠症，入睡困難，曾有過長達一個月未合過眼，最後暈厥在辦公室的記錄，他的上一位心理醫生對他束手無措，可機緣巧合下，卻發現許盛廷對季靈希的聲音有特殊反應，能依靠她的聲音睡著！於是他便被轉到了季靈希名下，成為了一個“特殊”病人。這段時間的變故讓季靈希分身乏術，醫院那邊不得已請了長假，倒是許久沒有為許盛廷催眠了。季靈希看著男人那張過分英俊的臉，高挺的鼻樑在臉頰落下陰影，嘴唇偏薄顯得不近人情，一雙冷靜威嚴的鷹眸底下，卻掛著兩個煞風景的黑眼圈。眼睛裡也有不少紅血絲，顯然是太久沒能休息，精神高度緊繃造成的。 “謝謝許先生救了我。”季靈希坐起身，小臉脆弱蒼白。回想起暈倒前的一切，她沒想到豁出性命的一次“碰瓷”，居然正好碰到了熟人身上！不幸中的萬幸。 “不客氣，我也很慶幸沒有背上一條人命。”許盛廷確認她已經退燒後，便讓醫生離開了，自己則順勢坐在了醫生的位置上。 “抱歉……”季靈希羞愧垂眼，“我不得不那樣。” 她尷尬的雙手絞著衣角，卻突然意識到自己身上的衣服已經換了。也是，渾身溼乎乎髒兮兮的，怎麼上床？可是誰給她換的？不會是…… “昨晚是讓保姆給你洗的澡，換了衣服。”許盛廷見她呆呆地盯著衣服出神，臉還越來越紅，就猜到了她在想什麼。 “謝、謝謝。”被看穿心裡所想，季靈希更羞恥了。好在許盛廷沒再繼續計較，而是突然提起另一件事：“你是不打算回醫院了嗎？” “短時間內我可能確實回不去了。”她實話實說。醫院的工作需要花費大量時間和全部精力，但工資對於現在的她來說卻是杯水車薪，再加上父親的冤屈還未洗刷，季靈希不能把時間全部交代在那裡。許盛廷的表情更冷了，“那你的病人怎麼辦？半途而廢，季醫生未免太不負責。” 什麼病人，他分明就是在說他自己！季靈希低下頭，“如果許先生需要催眠的話，可以隨時聯繫我，能來我一定來。” 也算是報答他這次的救命之恩了。 “是嗎？可你的電話打不通，消息也一直未讀。” 季靈希一愣，想起了什麼，尷尬道：“抱歉，我的手機不久前壞了……”被那群追債的砸了，還沒來得及買新的。許盛廷皺了皺眉，顯然也想到了現下季靈希的狼狽，他沒有多問，只是叫了人進來吩咐了什麼，很快那人出去又進來，手裡多了一部手機。許盛廷把手機交給季靈希，“以後用這個聯繫。” “啊？”怎麼能平白無故拿人家東西，季靈希第一反應是拒絕。卻被許盛廷制止，“先別急著拒絕，我還有一份合約要和你商議。” “什麼合約？” “首先，我願意每月支付你五十萬。” 什麼？季靈希睜大眼睛看他，一臉震驚。隨即她意識到什麼，驀地扯過被子將自己裹緊，只露出一雙警惕的眼睛。悶悶的聲音隔著棉被傳來：“許先生，我不賣身的。” 看著他正派的眉眼和楚楚的衣冠，季靈希心道，沒想到也只是個人模狗樣的男人。許盛廷沉默了會兒，突然莫名笑了下，“是嗎？加錢也不可以嗎，只需要每晚……” 伴隨著他越來越露骨的發言，季靈希炸毛一般，“當然不可以！” “只需要每晚給我催眠。”男人徐徐補充完整。季靈希僵住。 “季醫生想到哪裡去了？”許盛廷看著她羞恥的眼，語氣揶揄，“我只是想聘請你做我的私人醫生而已，畢竟你是這個世界上唯一能讓我睡著的人。” 簽合同的時候，季靈希的臉還因為尷尬發著紅。但同時她也感到難以置信，許先生居然真的開了月薪五十萬聘請她做私人醫生，而她的工作僅僅是每晚來給他催眠而已，這簡直是天上掉餡餅的事情。諷刺的是，五十萬，正是那個劉總要買走她的價格。 “謝謝許先生。”季靈希抱著新手機，眼睛亮亮的看著他。看著她紅撲撲的臉頰，男人眼神一暗，隨即移開目光，“嗯，晚上記得準時到，現在是休息還是離開，都隨意。” 季靈希立刻侷促道：“我很快就走。” “……嗯。” 季靈希出了門，才發現這裡是郊區的一棟私人別墅，私密性很強，和許先生這個人一樣神秘。神秘到即使作為主治醫師為他治療了三個月，季靈希還是不清楚他的身份，只知道他忙碌且富有，應該是個成功人士。她用新手機登入了自己的社交賬號，很快彈出一大堆未讀消息。其中有個紅色的頭像格外醒目，是她的未婚夫許家榮，季家出事後，季靈希一直沒能聯繫上他。現在他卻發來：靈希，明天下午三點，盛輝酒店1306見。是昨天的消息。第3章一夜給你一萬距離三點還有一個小時，季靈希看一下地圖，從這裡打車過去剛好來得及。要去嗎？她心裡突突的跳。昨天那個死肥豬男的話還歷歷在耳，他說許家早就退婚了。可季靈希壓根沒收到通知，因此就算許家榮裝死了一個月，她還一直自欺欺人般抱著期待。季家尚且衰亡，萬一許家也遇到了麻煩呢？或者是擔心受到牽連，等這陣子風頭過了，他就會聯繫她了呢？季家和許家在爺爺輩曾是世交，季靈希和許家榮更是自小就定下了娃娃親，兩人青梅竹馬，感情一度是甜蜜的，季靈希在心裡確實曾真心把他當做未來丈夫。因此還懷揣著天真的期待和信任。她最終叫了個網約車出發了。無論退婚一事是真是假，她如今孤立無援，身負鉅債，即使是最後一點希望也要把握！網約車上，司機播放著時政廣播，主持人正在播報京市新任市長，是如何新官上任三把火，頒佈了不少利民新政策不說，還抓了一大批貪官汙吏，其中能源部部長季祥和，更是被舉報貪汙公款高達十個億，舉國震驚。季靈希緊緊咬著唇，眼眶泛紅。是新市長抓了父親。說起來，之前她昏迷前，好像是隱隱約約聽到了什麼市長什麼媳婦之類的。可當時深夜荒涼，周圍只有一輛車上有活人，大概高燒產生的錯覺吧。如果能見到那位市長就好了，她真的很想瞭解清楚父親貪汙案件的始末，想知道那些所謂確鑿的證據都是從何而來。她是父親的女兒，最清楚父親的人品，他是絕對做不出貪汙公款這種事情的！但以她現在的身份，想見那位市長一面，恐怕難如登天。車停在了盛輝酒店門口，季靈希下車後，按照門牌號很快來到約定地點。房門沒有關嚴，應該是許家榮已經到了，在等她。季靈希沒多想，直接推開了門。房間裡卻一片漆黑。難道許家榮還沒到？季靈希略有疑惑，一邊往裡走一邊摸索開關。突然她伸出的手腕被猛地攥住。有人！季靈希猝然睜大眼，驚叫還沒來的及喊出口，就被捂住口鼻，強制拉進了一個光裸的懷抱。 “唔唔唔！”她拼命掙扎，卻完全敵不過對方的力氣，心裡驚懼一片。 “啪！”燈被打開了。季靈希看清了來人，赫然是許家榮！對上她難以置信的眼，許家榮獰笑一聲，砰的把門踢上，緊接著把季靈希按在了牆上。 “靈希，我好想你。”許家榮緊貼著她身體，灼熱的鼻息噴灑在季靈希的脖子上，讓她渾身發毛。她抗拒的推著他，“許家榮，你幹什麼？” “幹什麼？這不明擺著。”許家榮說著，居然開始撕扯她的衣服。季靈希愕然，在驚怒之下，照著他裸露的肩膀狠狠咬了下去！ “嘶——”劇烈的痛感，讓許家榮下意識推開她，季靈希趁機逃離他的束縛，閃身抄起床頭櫃的檯燈，警惕的盯著他。他們如今婚約是否名存實亡都不一定呢，季靈希怎麼可能跟他做！許家榮咬牙切齒，“季靈希！你淪落到如今這個地步，還不肯跟我睡？” “當初我圖你季家的助力，讓著你就算了，現如今你家都到這步田地了，你還有什麼可矜持的，扭扭捏捏裝假清高！” 季靈希被羞辱得渾身顫抖，瞪著他，“我只問你，許家是不是退婚了！？” 聞言，許家榮輕蔑一笑，看著季靈希的眼神更是不加掩飾的露骨，“不然呢？你以為你現在還配得上我？季靈希認清現實吧，跟了我，以後一夜給你一萬如何？” 季靈希氣紅了眼，握著檯燈的手都在發抖，“許家榮，我以前怎麼沒發現你這麼噁心？” “呵，我看你是敬酒不吃吃罰酒！”說完，他直接衝上來，季靈希舉起檯燈砸，卻被男人一把擋住，反手將她控制。力量太懸殊了，季靈希顫抖著咬唇，目露恨光。這時，許家榮褲兜裡的電話鈴響了。他不以為然，電話自動掛斷，但緊接著又響起一個特殊的鈴聲。許家榮動作一頓，咬牙切齒的空出手接通電話：“爺爺。” 對面威嚴的聲音傳出，季靈希離得太近也能聽見。 “家榮啊，你小叔回京市上任也有三個多月了，今晚辦家宴，你現在立刻回來。” 第4章許家小叔許老爺子是許家的真正掌權者，威嚴不言而喻，以至於許家榮如今箭在弦上，也不得不偃旗息鼓。季靈希趁機掙脫開他的束縛，整理好身上的衣服。見狀，許家榮冷笑：“這次先放過你，季靈希你好好想想吧，做我的女人才是你的最佳選擇，不然有第一個劉總就會有第二個，你以為次次都能逃得掉嗎？” 聽他提起劉總，季靈希難以置信，“你知道？” “當然，你可知你那好叔叔的拜帖遞給過多少人？如今圈子裡誰人不知，你季家大小姐是個五十萬就能買走的便宜貨？” 季靈希瞬間白了臉，眼底的恨意不加掩飾。但許家榮卻不以為意，失去了季祥和庇護的季靈希就是一隻弱小的兔子，人人都能踩一腳，一隻兔子能有什麼反抗能力呢？ “季靈希，想清楚了隨時聯繫我。” 許家榮晃了晃手機，勢在必得的看了她一眼，轉身離開。季靈希死死盯著他，在男人轉身之際，突然暴起舉著手中檯燈狠狠砸了下去！一聲巨響，紅漿自許家榮頭頂流下，劃過他猝然瞪大的雙眼，落到地面上。男人抽搐著倒地。季靈希後知後覺，顫抖著走到他身邊，蹲下身試探鼻息。還活著。松了口氣，季靈希站起身，居高臨下看了他兩秒，又不解氣地往那兩腿之間來了一腳。 … 許家。京市作為H國首都，無數豪門世家紮根於此，其中許家是當之無愧的豪門之首，因此這一年一度的家宴，也舉辦得極其鋪張奢華。一輛黑色紅旗L9停在了大門口，管家連忙來幫忙拉開車門，男人伸出長腿下車。 “二爺回來了，老爺在屋裡呢，現下除了家榮少爺，其他人也都到了。” 許盛廷聞言，朝他點點頭，徑直往屋裡走。然而剛靠近主屋，裡面的吵鬧聲就傳了出來。是他父親，許家家主的聲音，“那混賬東西，婚都退了還非要去招惹人家，還鬧到局子裡去了，簡直丟盡我許家顏面！” “爸，也不能怪我們家榮啊，傳信人說他腦袋都被打破了，分明是受害者！我看是那姓季的，家裡出事想要抓著我們許家不放，糾纏家榮呢！” 許盛廷站在門口沒進去，皺眉問：“怎麼回事？” 老管家尷尬道：“聽說是家榮少爺被他前未婚妻砸破了腦袋，人家姑娘打了120，結果救護車沒到，少爺自己醒了，拉著那姑娘非要報警，現在人被困在局子裡呢。” “他既然是受害者，又為什麼會被扣在警局。” “因為那姑娘跟警察說他試圖侵犯她……” 許盛廷冷笑，隨即推門而入。與此同時，他大哥許源，估計也是覺得家宴鬧出這事實在丟人，拉著正據理力爭的妻子，勸道：“你別說了，現在當務之急是把家榮接回來。” 他大嫂紅著眼：“警察不肯放人我怎麼接！” “我去接。”冰冷的聲音打斷他們。 “盛廷？”許源尷尬笑道，“你來了，也是，你如今是市長，在警局那邊的面子自然比我們好用。” 許盛廷不置可否，神情冷淡的跟主位上的老爺子打了個招呼。警局，季靈希坐在和許家榮一欄杆之隔的房間裡，冷眼看著他發瘋。對此警察也頭疼，他們又何嘗想得罪許家，季靈希雖然控訴許家榮侵犯未遂，但到底拿不出實質的證據，本來教育教育就可以放人。但許家榮一個嬌生慣養的大少爺，還是第一次被人開瓢，哪裡咽的下這口氣？非要強留在這裡死纏爛打，要季靈希坐牢，不然就賠償他五百萬。五百萬？就憑他頭頂連輕傷都算不上的口子？這不搞笑嘛。況且罪名雖無法成立，但人家姑娘身上的淤青和破碎的衣服是實打實的，砸他完全是合法自保，他再鬧也沒用啊。警局外傳來動靜，有人小跑進來，“隊長，許家來人了。” “誰來了？” “好像是許家二爺。” 警長唰得起身，“還不快請進來！” 季靈希聞言抿緊了唇，神態防備。許家二爺，那不就是許家榮的小叔？肯定是來撈他的。門被推開，男人高大的身影出現在門口，季靈希警惕地望過去，卻看到了一張意料之外的熟悉的臉。她人傻了。怎麼是許盛廷？ ...... 接下來會發生什麼？這裡放的章節有限，點選下方按鈕安裝App，繼續閱讀更多精彩章節（打開應用程式時會自動跳到該書） &5&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft	Love reading - A	https://www.facebook.com/61568188880222/	80	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.cdreader.com	VIDEO		https://fbweb.cdreader.com/130853449-fb_contact-ft-p103_2-c2-1128-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=809076924536970&rawadid=120215590408000134	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469121025_1938952113254271_2684819102489457822_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=EirIQO1hsMsQ7kNvgHi2lYv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYAT31uvCrBFJ1eON5S-DQkd-nGqH0uKf8QbDx0YLpqrnw&oe=676EB104	PERSON_PROFILE	Love reading - A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,037	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648035}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	SolarGuard™ 4 in 1 Bug Zapper - 40% Off Until Midnight	🦟 Transform your outdoor experience with the Norvure SolarGuard™ Bug Zapper. 🔋 Enjoy advanced solar and USB charging with a robust 4000mAh battery for long-lasting protection. 💡 Eliminate mosquitoes, flies, and gnats instantly with a 360° UV light and 4200V enhanced voltage. 🌟 Multi-functional design serves as a bug zapper, lighting lamp, and dynamic atmosphere light. ⚡️ Smart control technology with dusk-to-dawn sensor for hassle-free operation. 👇 Click Below To Get Yours 40% Off Until Midnight!	SHOP_NOW	https://norvure.com/products/solarguard%E2%84%A2-b	HeartlyLove	https://www.facebook.com/100089641703840/	748	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop now	norvure.com	IMAGE	40% Off Until Midnight	https://norvure.com/products/solarguard%E2%84%A2-bug-zapper-your-ultimate-shield-against-bugs	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/448106172_1544233779464358_4473156375970779246_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=22xvwKb0e6cQ7kNvgGiI9Yf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AMaAbxw4E9F9K4Wo_j8Zrev&oh=00_AYCd07y1uNucOY_ef_NWE7bs84C52E7UBbeQAuwvLEcFJA&oe=676EE2DB	PERSON_PROFILE	HeartlyLove	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,160	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648054}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	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/	880	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgGA6NPy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqgBF4QlKSu9txTqQ2ioaCz&oh=00_AYBr08N_BBX3vo91wq6PWyts143hYmM_bPp8fenYnSJq3A&oe=676EAFC7	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,360	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648283}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	❤️😍 click to read on 👉	Riley Allen tried to save her marriage, but when she found her husband’s mistress was carrying a baby and she lost her own child at the same time, she quickly realized it was not worth fighting for. To get enough money to save her mother’s life, Riley signed an unfair divorce paper and gave up the career she carefully built. But why did Adrian King, the hottest Billionaire and her ex-husband’s past rival, propose to her who had nothing? - "I only need one favor from you," Adrian said, staring into Riley's eyes and declared, "After your divorce is finalized, marry me." "W-what?" Riley gulped. Adrian didn't respond. He pointed to his assistant and ordered, "Explain, Clint." "Miss Allen, the other day, in order to bring you to the hospital and ensure your health, Mr. King missed his engagement party with his fiancée, Leni Eros, an heir to the Eros Empire in Dowel City. And because of it, Miss Leni Eros canceled their marriage," Clint continued, "So, Mr. King needs a new wife." Riley's heart raced. 'What in the world did he think of? He abandoned a beautiful heiress to bring me to the hospital!' 'But did he have to stay with me until ten in the evening?' He didn't have to hug me and comfort me!' Riley’s brow unwittingly raised. "So, it was my fault that you lost your fiancée?" "I'm not blaming you," Adrian replied. "You said you'd do me a favor, and this is the favor I asked for." "I may not be the wealthiest in my family, but I am at least richer than Brian. I can provide for all your needs, take care of your mother's hospitalization. I can also help you build an even better jewelry company. Lastly, I will ensure you get justice for what Brian has done to you." Adrian raised his chin, narrowed his eyes, "I promise you, he will be punished." "And don't worry. This is a simple arrangement," Adrian assured Riley as he fixed his tie. "You don't need to know all the details, but what I'm saying is that marrying is advantageous to me in many ways." "Like a contract marriage?" Riley clarified. "Hmm," Adrian answered. "You could say that, but this will be a respectful one. "Adrian ran his fingers through his long, dark hair. "What do you think, Riley?" Riley blinked again.	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&u	Happyday	https://www.facebook.com/61558228850235/	1,486	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=15430&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465910637_3831521507176109_6733139206015814204_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=D3eZX83m3boQ7kNvgFw0Dy3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYA9XFXNCB68_uHnhLHLasX7LsBELKT6nfFUK-nlnEFl1A&oe=676EB174	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,254	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648250}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage 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/	327	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	shgjfh.com	DCO		https://shgjfh.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=13831&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465264232_561529746461680_3453754793134507972_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=wH5jkA5SzHQQ7kNvgFMaZcQ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AqgBF4QlKSu9txTqQ2ioaCz&oh=00_AYCYPoLe0ezugYf69yLcxITlSBhs54kI3EJOd4PPF7Dj-Q&oe=676ECF32	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,331	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648236}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	327	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&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/t39.35426-6/465249817_520746214095774_6444994746307294846_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ut78RZ30-EsQ7kNvgGjjJ8c&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AKY6CzbmK_4MncCMNQycbNE&oh=00_AYBR_RwpIeUMnyCq6pBYiKaGZxrwf387QKLC7VsjJIrsgw&oe=676ED9EB	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,398	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-K	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	47	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214047040820250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469351971_1027040642512376_6748046439618851106_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cE73WuGTF_wQ7kNvgEJGO9H&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYCa30FZ3t6C1hZvUshHx5n5e9YO6K8YGQAvM47VVWxNzA&oe=676EB5E4	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-K	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,169	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648054}'	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	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/	880	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgGA6NPy&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqgBF4QlKSu9txTqQ2ioaCz&oh=00_AYBr08N_BBX3vo91wq6PWyts143hYmM_bPp8fenYnSJq3A&oe=676EAFC7	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,403	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-A	https://www.facebook.com/61570065204033/	2	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214134980480250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469946503_1733109167250197_859520501711980500_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=PA1mOkcyRM8Q7kNvgGORkez&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYC8gDBrXOSvHoJM1NpqIu9HShdnRhCVdMg8CpmgxRmafw&oe=676ED993	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-A	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,415	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-K	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	47	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106532420250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469570171_2734541733399079_789864172343736830_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=oF-popzegKEQ7kNvgEpkM0c&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYAeTS3Z79ZcwHc90fOsFuIC94NUboN0WWW0HhI9WONvqQ&oe=676EDC97	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-K	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,139	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2648112}'	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！	その日、優子が末期がんと診断された。その頃、夫は彼の初恋相手と一緒に「忙しかった」。 …… 「手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」優子の青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。「もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」「半年から1年ぐらいだ。すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」実家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。夫である峻介は何の手伝いもくれなかった。父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、彼は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否することはできなかった。彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の話なら、お前に会う気はない。」優子は涙をこらえながら、がんの話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、今は私たちの時間よ。」その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今では里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。優子は震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」「家で待ってるから。」そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は壁にもたれかかるように座り込み、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間、どんなに離婚を迫っても拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したのだろう？それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、峻介は彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が追いかけてきた。しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去り、説明する気配もなかった。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。彼の整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、その時は虚ろだった。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」「お前にはまだ離婚届にサインしてくれる必要がある。」その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。カバンから書類を静かに取り出した。「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今の優子はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。」峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」翌朝、日の出前には優子がすでに身支度を整えて出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」「えっ！？すぐ向かいます！」到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。手術室の前で両手を組み、祈るように待ち続ける。彼女の唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。明細を見ると、総額は300万円以上。以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。仕方なく、彼女は峻介に電話をかけた。冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」「急なことがあって――」「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「突然離婚に応じるなんて妙だと思ったが、どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかじゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」「で、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方をする人がいるのか！？「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後に。」それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。なぜだろう？優子は考え込む余裕もなく、今は父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」「心配しないで、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」「ありがとうございます！」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろし、介護人に父を任せた。お金のために市役所に急いだが、峻介の姿はどこにもなかった。焦る気持ちで電話をかけた。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」「事務室だ。」「峻介、今すぐ離婚手続きに来てくれない？」峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」「終わるまで待っているから……お願い、父のためにお金が必要なの。」「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」彼は電話を切った。再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。雨は容赦なく降り注ぎ、バス停の標識の下でしゃがみ込む優子は、息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。家族の突然の破産が、いつも彼女を深く愛してくれた峻介を変えてしまうなんて… 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。「いらっしゃいませ。この指輪ですね。お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」「あります。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要がありますので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」優子は乾いた唇を舐め、切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人――里美だった。	LEARN_MORE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	127	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	heplk.com	IMAGE		https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&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/t39.35426-6/470195820_648791847503747_4400630868748044853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9CsP86aIArwQ7kNvgEEmJ01&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AqgBF4QlKSu9txTqQ2ioaCz&oh=00_AYAMjiXC5Y2-iXcv1dDpZhlr1I4lc0Ebh5ardgxBSudZ-g&oe=676ED311	PERSON_PROFILE	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,648,405	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-22 23:48	active	2067	Read next chapter👉	As the real heiress returns, onlookers mock at how the fake heiress will end. She, however, comes back as the daughter of a top billionaire, taking on the role of a judge in the real heiress competition, terminating her foster parents'contract, backed by business tycoons, and stunning everyone! ===== "Madisyn, for years, we've raised you, never imagining you capable of such cruelty. This house can no longer bear your presence. You must leave immediately." Declared the imposing woman before Madisyn Chapman, her gaze laden with disdain and a bitter chill, her elegant attire contrasting sharply with the harshness of her words. "Mom, please, it was an accident. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs on my own. Madisyn had no part in this," said a young girl from her seat on the sofa. Just half an hour prior, Jenna Chapman, the biological daughter of the Chapmans, had suffered a fall on the staircase. At that time, Madisyn had been alone on the upper floor. Everyone believed Madisyn had pushed Jenna... Now, the looks that the Chapmans shot at Madisyn were filled with venom and disgust, a stark contrast to their attitude just a week prior, when they had professed their reluctance to ever part with her. Madisyn looked down at the floor, a fleeting shadow of irony passing through her eyes. Once, Madisyn was the sole daughter of the Chapmans. Though she never basked in parental favoritism, she lacked for nothing, her basic needs always met. The facade shattered when Jeffry Chapman, whom she had known as her father, met with a grave accident necessitating an urgent bl**d transfusion. The subsequent tests unveiled a startling truth--Madisyn was not his biological child. Jeffry then harnessed his extensive network to uncover the whereabouts of his true daughter, Jenna. The Chapman family was a prestigious household in Gemond, and news like this naturally spread quickly. To manage the public narrative and preserve their esteemed reputation, they declared an unwavering commitment to Madisyn, the girl they had raised, asserting their intention to treat her as their own for a while longer before she returned to her biological family. Behind closed doors, however, their plans were starkly different. They wanted to quickly send Madisyn away at once. Upon Jenna's arrival, the Chapman family blamed Madisyn for Jenna's years of hardship, relegating Madisyn from her room to a mere storage space, diminishing her status drastically. She was tasked with menial chores, her status far beneath even those of the household servants. Jenna, however, still wanted Madisyn gone. She had crafted several schemes against Madisyn, yet her parents turned a blind eye, their disdain for Madisyn thinly veiled. These tribulations stripped away any illusions Madisyn had about her former family, fueling a resolve to confront the injustices imposed upon her. As the tensions reached a boiling point, she faced Jenna, her voice resolute as she said, "I'll leave, but not before setting the record straight, Jenna!" Jenna's composure wavered under the intensity of Madisyn's icy stare, her body trembling slightly. Was this the same Madisyn who had once submitted quietly to every slight? A dark glint flickered in Jenna's eyes. She was the rightful heiress to the Chapman family assets, not this usurper, Madisyn, who had been living in luxury undeserved. She had to drive this impostor out! "Madisyn, I have no idea what you're going on about!" Jenna's voice dripped with feigned confusion. "Ever since I reclaimed my rightful place, receiving the affection rightfully owed to me by our parents, I've sensed your discontent. Despite your actions, I've remained tolerant. But my legs... how could you? Dancing is my soul's expression. Had I known you coveted the national competition spot so desperately, I would not have contested it." Her insinuation was clear: Madisyn had sabotaged her out of it. The gaze of Jenna's mother, Phyllis Chapman, hardened at Jenna's words, her voice laced with disdain. "Jenna, you possesses a remarkable talent that Madisyn could never hope to match. That competition spot was yours by right. And you, Madisyn!" She turned sharply towards Madisyn, adding, "Pack your belongings and leave immediately!" Madisyn's usually somber expression seemed only to fuel her contempt. Meanwhile, Jenna, ever the docile and talented daughter, shone brightly in her eyes--a true Chapman. Amidst the unfolding drama, Jeffry finally broke his silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Madisyn, our agreement was to keep you until the public scrutiny waned, yet here we are, facing your deep-seated resentment towards Jenna. We have no choice but to return you to your true family today." Jenna's eyes glittered with a triumphant gleam as her father pronounced Madisyn's imminent departure. In stark contrast, Madisyn's face remained an unreadable mask as she went up the stairs to gather her possessions. Her prolonged stay on the upper floor kindled a flicker of anxiety in Jenna. "What if she attempts to take everything with her?" After all, everything of value in the house rightfully belonged to her--how could she allow a fake to leave with any part of her wealth? Eventually, Madisyn reappeared, descending the staircase slowly, her movements deliberate. She carried a small, unassuming black bag. As her gaze swept coolly across the living room, it unsettled Jeffry enough for him to divert his eyes. Phyllis's eyebrows knitted together at the sight of Madisyn's minimal luggage. "Is that all you've packed? What's in there? Show me," she demanded, suspicion lacing her tone. Jeffry, however, raised a hand to halt his wife's interrogation. "Let her be." It was probably just the bank card he gave her, which had a mere hundred thousand dollars left on it. Unfazed, Madisyn placed her bag squarely on the table, her expression stoic. "Inspect it if you must." Phyllis, unable to mask her distrust, scoffed. "Maybe she has packed something valuable," she muttered as she unzipped the bag. Peering inside, she found nothing more than a notebook, a few seeds, and a small stack of cash--hardly the valuables she had feared. Phyllis, her face flushed with embarrassment from her baseless accusation, straightened up. "I'll let the driver take you there," she said crisply. Jeffry, the weight of the situation bearing down on him, reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. "Madisyn, when you return, listen to your parents. They're farmers, yes... but they are good, simple people. You should help them." Madisyn looked at the offered card with her beautiful eyes, her expression calm. "Everyone has their own destiny to fulfill," she replied quietly, pushing the card back towards Jeffry. "But before I leave, there needs to be clarity. Jenna, how did you truly fall down those stairs? This is your last chance to tell the truth." Jenna seethed internally, infuriated by Madisyn's serene composure, which seemed to elevate her above everyone else despite her humble origins. Madisyn was not from a wealthy family! She was just two farmers' daughter! "Madisyn, what are you implying? That I threw myself down the stairs?" Jenna retorted. "My legs are my life; they are essential for my dancing. Why would I ever get them injured?" As she spoke, Jenna's emotions crescendoed, and she dissolved into theatrical tears, collapsing into Phyllis's arms. Suddenly, Jennainstinctively leaped to her feet because of a shattered vase. Silence enveloped the room as everyone, including Phyllis and Jeffry, turned their shocked gazes towards her. Jenna's sudden agility was startling--didn't she say she couldn't stand up because of her injuries? &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-e	Hello reading-K	https://www.facebook.com/61569719435565/	47	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	VIDEO		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60743322-fb_contact-enp65_2-c2-0827-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=124213&accid=1983022462166766&rawadid=120214106510320250	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469639092_1327121328467472_1595421730831110156_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=MDTirpXNR9AQ7kNvgE35KbY&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AsFVJHE_jDgmguPysldv5zL&oh=00_AYDLPj5REagwY2uoa2MJ2NL_yP_VnmETG_-kjUen2yz4Xg&oe=676ECB61	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello reading-K	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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