Confucius Ads Library: Ads

Id	Vlad	Saved	Scrape Time	Status	Scrape Result	Title	Body	Cta Type	Link Url	Page Name	Page Profile Uri	Page Like Count	Enddate	Cta Text	Caption	Display Format	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,580,269	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-03 20:09	active	1956	Сбежавшая Жена Директора	Она узнала, что беременна, отчего её переполняла радость. Но вдруг она увидела заботу мужа о его первой любви. Девушка со слезами на глазах оставила соглашение о разводе, скрыла беременность и ушла с разбитым сердцем. ===== «Госпожа Ростова, поздравляю! Ваш ребёнок здоров». Дарья Ростова вышла из больницы в растерянности, прижимая к груди медицинское заключение о беременности. Она беременна от Рената! Опустив глаза, она рассеянно погладила свой всё ещё плоский живот и расплылась в улыбке. Глупо улыбаясь, Дарья поспешно достала телефон, чтобы позвонить Ренату Новикову, своему мужу, и поделиться с ним замечательной новостью. Однако как раз в тот момент, когда она собиралась набрать его номер, у неё зазвонил телефон. На экране появилось сообщение от Рената, которое гласило: «Немедленно приезжай в отель "Гранд"». Отель «Гранд»? Почему он внезапно захотел, чтобы она туда поехала? Дарья растерялась, но недолго колебалась. Поймав такси, девушка направилась по указанному адресу. Поскольку супруг хотел её видеть, она решила, что может сообщить ему хорошие новости лично. С колотящимся от волнения сердцем девушка подъехала к отелю. Выйдя из машины, она заметила, что вестибюль украшен цветами и новой красной ковровой дорожкой, явно подготовленной к празднику. Дарья на мгновение потрясённо замерла, а затем вспомнила, что сегодня годовщина их свадьбы. Неужели Ренат попросил её приехать сюда, чтобы сделать сюрприз? Дарья мысленно улыбалась, размышляя о том, как Ренат отреагирует на новость о беременности. Дарья пробиралась сквозь толпу, сливаясь с ней в своём простом наряде. Вскоре она заметила ослепительно красивого мужчину, который выделялся среди толпы. Перед ней стоял её муж, Ренат Новиков, отец их ребёнка. Дарья начала медленно растягивать губы в улыбке, но в следующее мгновение заметила стоявшую рядом с ним женщину, и её улыбка застыла. Этой женщиной оказалась первой любовью Рената, Милена Потапова! Как давно Милена вернулась в город? Дарья застыла на месте, словно приклеенная, наблюдая, как Ренат и Милена развлекают гостей, напоминая идеальную пару. Друзья окружили их и, похоже, с чем-то поздравляли. «Милена, ты наконец-то дома. За это надо выпить!» «Ренат, после стольких лет вы с Миленой наконец-то воссоединились!» Постепенно смех становился громче. Милена, одетая в красное платье и с изысканным макияжем, любезно усмехнулась. «Хватит нас дразнить. У Рената уже есть жена». При упоминании Дарьи окружающие не смогли сдержать презрения. «Дарья? Я тебя умоляю! Ренат женился на ней только для того, чтобы успокоить свою бабушку!» «Вот именно! Ренат всегда хотел жениться на тебе. Верно, Ренат?» Ренат, похожий на принца в своём сшитом на заказ костюме, излучал холодную, неповторимую харизму. «Ладно, хватит. Перестаньте дразнить Милену, - холодно сказал он. - Она не может. Я выпью за неё». После этих слов смех и подшучивания друзей лишь усилились. «Эй, Ренат, какого чёрта? Ты её защищаешь, не так ли?» Среди громких поддразниваний Ренат оставался невозмутимым и собранным, но в уголках его рта появился недвусмысленный намёк на улыбку. Стоявшая рядом с ним Милена опустила голову и застенчиво покраснела. Эта яркая любовная сцена пронзила сердце Дарьи. Она не знала, как вышла из отеля, но поняла это лишь тогда, когда холодные капли дождя начали капать ей на лицо. Внезапно поднялся сильный ветер и хлынул ливень, промочивший её до нитки. Однако девушка застыла на месте. Зачем Ренат позвал её? Неужели всё это лишь уловка, чтобы заставить её стать свидетелем их любви и уступить место жены его возлюбленной Милене? Дарье стало трудно дышать. Растеряно оглядевшись, она поняла, что ей следует покинуть это ужасное место. Тяжело ступая, девушка побрела домой под дождём. Стоя в дверях, она безучастно смотрела на знакомый дом, и её мысли блуждали где-то далеко. Два года назад, когда семья Дарьи находилась на грани банкротства, они попытались спасти своё положение, выдав её замуж за представителя семьи Новиковых. Ренат поначалу отказывался, но из-за того, что его тяжело больная бабушка продолжала давить на него, он неохотно согласился на договорной брак. Теперь, когда здоровье бабушки улучшилось, а Милена вернулась из-за границы, Дарья подумала, что, возможно, ей пора собирать вещи и уезжать. Девушка не знала, как долго простояла перед домом, прежде чем услышала звук автомобильного двигателя. В следующее мгновение рядом с ней раздался глубокий голос Рената: «Даша, почему ты стоишь здесь, под дождём?» Глава 2 Я хочу развестись В оцепенении Дарья подняла голову и встретилась с суровым взглядом стоящего перед ней мужчины. Ей что, померещилось? Что здесь делает Ренат? Милена недавно вернулась из-за границы. Разве он не должен сейчас проводить время с любимой женщиной? Мужчина нахмурился, не получив ответа от Дарьи. Вымокшая под дождём девушка напоминала мокрую крысу. Длинные тёмные волосы, с которых стекала вода, прилипли к бледным щекам, придавая ей жалкий вид. «Что, чёрт возьми, с тобой случилось?» - резко спросил Ренат. Дарья вспомнила, как ранее он нежно обращался с Миленой, и это заставило её сердце сжаться. Стало совершенно очевидно, как по-разному Ренат относится к любимой и нелюбимой женщине. Пытаясь справиться с болью, Дарья заставила себя улыбнуться и тихо объяснила: «Когда я возвращалась домой, начался дождь, а у меня не оказалось зонтика, поэтому я промокла». Во время разговора у неё внезапно нестерпимо зачесался нос, и она громко чихнула. Однако вместо того, чтобы пожалеть её, Ренат лишь сильнее нахмурился. «Ты уже не маленькая. Если промокла, то первое, что следует сделать, вернувшись домой, - вытереться и переодеться. Мне действительно нужно тебе это объяснять?» Улыбка на лице Дарьи застыла. «Прости...» «Иди и быстро переоденься, а то простудишься», - нетерпеливо выпалил Ренат, а затем обошёл её и вошёл в дом. Простудишься? Только тогда Дарья вспомнила, что беременна, поэтому не могла позволить себе заболеть, чтобы не подвергнуть ребёнка опасности. С этой мыслью она поспешила в свою комнату, приняла горячий душ, в котором быстро согрелась. Завернувшись в полотенце, девушка вышла из наполненной паром ванной комнаты и обнаружила на своём пути Рената. Она ахнула от удивления и инстинктивно крепче сжала полотенце на груди. Заметив её реакцию, мужчина пристально посмотрел на неё и равнодушно спросил: «Почему ты нервничаешь? Я всё это уже видел». Лицо Дарьи залилось краской. Не дожидаясь ответа, Ренат небрежно протянул таблетку от простуды и стакан воды. «Вот, выпей». Дарья нерешительно взглянула на таблетку, беспокоясь, что та может навредить малышу. «Думаю, что обойдусь без этого. В конце концов, я провела под дождём не так много времени». Неожиданно Ренат проявил упрямство. «Ты себя в зеркале видела? Ты бледная, как привидение. Завтра мы едем к бабушке, так что тебе лучше не болеть, слышишь?» Однако Дарья, беспокоясь о ребёнке, упорно сопротивлялась. «Мне просто нужно выпить чего-нибудь тёплого, вот и всё. Я в порядке, правда». В этот момент терпение мужчины лопнуло. Он решительно положил таблетку в рот и сделал глоток воды. «Ренат, что ты... Ах!» Прежде чем Дарья успела вымолвить хоть слово, Ренат наклонился, возвышаясь над ней, и взял её за подбородок. Заставив девушку поднять голову, он крепко прижался своими губами к её. Таблетка и вода оказались у неё во рту, и он не ослабил хватку, пока не убедился, что она проглотила лекарство. От внезапного п*целуя у Дарьи закружилась голова, смывая все её запреты. Рената охватило желание, oн снова попытался поцеловать Дарью, но та решительно отвернулась, избегая его взгляда. «Ренат, я… - нервно пробормотала девушка, пытаясь подобрать слова. - Я хочу развестись». Её слова в мгновение ока погасили все желания Рената. На его лице промелькнуло раздражение, и он холодно взял её за подбородок, заставляя посмотреть в его пронзительные глаза. «Повтори ещё раз». Сердце Дарьи ёкнуло. Однако ей удалось подавить бурные эмоции и смело встретить пристальный взгляд супруга. «Я сказала, что хочу развода». В глазах Рената мелькнули нечитаемые эмоции. «Почему?» Дарью поразил его вопрос, и на её лице отразились растерянность и недоумение. А почему же ещё? Конечно же, чтобы он смог исполнить своё желание жениться на любимой Милене. «Потому что...» - дрогнувшим голосом начала девушка, но поняла, что не может сказать очевидного. «У твоей семьи снова возникли финансовые трудности? Речь идёт о деньгах? - спросил Ренат, холодно глядя на неё. - Даша, ты разве не знаешь своего места? Если тебе что-то нужно, просто скажи. Не играй со мной в эти игры, потому что я не хочу терпеть эту чушь». Дарья молча сжала кулаки и стиснула зубы. Значит, Ренат решил, что просьба о разводе - всего лишь одна из её игр, своего рода попытка использовать ситуацию в своих интересах? Девушка горько улыбнулась, но в её глазах появилась нехарактерная для неё яростная решимость. «Не волнуйся. Мне нужен только развод. Ренат, рано или поздно мы всё равно развелись бы, так какая разница?» Мужчина какое-то время не отвечал, глядя на неё со странным, серьёзным выражением в глазах. Его молчание погрузило Дарью в транс, а в сердце поселилась смесь тревоги и необъяснимой надежды. «Или... ты не хочешь разводиться?» Глава 3 Берегись, мир! При мысли о том, что Ренат, возможно, не захочет разводиться, сердце Дарьи замерло, а в груди заныло от предвкушения. Однако не обращая на её полный надежды взгляд, Ренат холодно усмехнулся. «Даша, не обманывай себя, - его насмешливый тон больно ранил её, но он продолжил: - Ты действительно думаешь, что я буду возражать против развода? - сверля её ледяным взглядом, мужчина добавил: - Запомни, Даша, это ты попросила развод. Не приползай обратно после этого». С этими словами Ренат сердито ушел. Дарья охваченная разочарованием. Тихо плача, она осторожно положила руку на живот, чувствуя, как внутри неё растёт маленькая жизнь. Изначально она планировала сообщить Ренату радостную новость, но буквально через несколько часов они оказались на грани развода. Подумав об этом, девушка решила, что лучше держать супруга в неведении относительно её беременности. Даже если они разойдутся, она сможет вырастить ребёнка одна. Затем, вспомнив о своей работе в качестве секретаря Рената, она ощутила приступ беспомощности. Бабушка Рената устроила её работать под его началом, чтобы укрепить их отношения, и тогда это казалось хорошей идеей. Однако теперь всё изменилось, и ей давно следовало уйти с этой работы. На следующее утро, как только Дарья прибыла в головной офис компании «Связь», её окружили самые заядлые сплетницы. «Даша, мы ждали тебя всё утро! Что происходит между господином Новиковым и этой Миленой? Они теперь вместе?» «Новость о том, что господин Новиков устраивает вечеринку в честь возвращения международной супермодели Милены Потаповой, распространилась как лесной пожар. Он пригласил всех своих друзей. Похоже, он вскоре планирует публично заявить об их отношениях!» «Я слышала, что после вечеринки они провели ночь вместе. Может, она его будущая жена!» Дарья почувствовала горечь от этих слов. После недолгого колебания она уныло ответила: «Я не слишком много об этом знаю». Коллеги переглянулись и закатили глаза. Очевидно, они ей не поверили. «Да ладно, Даша! Ты же секретарь господина Новикова, поэтому знаешь его лучше, чем кто-либо другой. Как эта информация могла пройти мимо тебя? Давай выкладывай!» Дарья натянуто улыбнулась. Все знали, что Дарья работала секретарём Рената, но лишь единицы были в курсе, что она также являлась его женой. Он даже не хотел афишировать их отношения. Тихо вздохнув, девушка настойчиво повторила: «Я действительно не знаю, ясно? Хватит сплетничать». Коллеги хотели надавить на Дарью, но та оборвала их прежде, чем они успели вымолвить хоть слово. «Я же говорю, что мне нечего сказать, так что перестаньте меня донимать. Вас наняли для того, чтобы сплетничать? Возвращайтесь к работе!» Её суровое выражение лица встревожило их, но поскольку она оказалась права, им пришлось подчиниться. «Ладно, ладно, мы поняли». Когда Дарья ушла, они не могли сдержаться и начали ворчать. «Кем она себя возомнила? Так высокомерно себя ведёт. Хм! Она здесь не единственный секретарь». «Да, когда три года назад она внезапно начала здесь работать, мы решили, что у неё какие-то отношения с господином Новиковым. Но в итоге он не уделял ей особого внимания и даже не брал на встречи с клиентами. Она его личный секретарь, ну и что из этого? Просто услада для глаз!» «Её дни здесь сочтены. Как только Милена выйдет замуж за господина Новикова, Дашу уволят первой. В конце концов, кто подпустил бы симпатичного секретаря к своему мужчине?» «Вот именно!» Их смех и безудержная болтовня наполнили офис, но Дарья, не обращая на это внимания, направилась к своему столу и погрузилась в работу. Она знала, какой на самом деле её видят эти, казалось бы, дружелюбные коллеги. Однако девушка не могла с ними спорить, потому что даже сама чувствовала себя посмешищем. Она и опомниться не успела, как наступил конец рабочего дня, и большинство секретарей уже разошлись по домам. Когда Дарья собирала вещи, ей позвонила её лучшая подруга, Варвара Лунина. «Я видела новости сегодня утром. Что происходит между Ренатом и этой Миленой? Это всего лишь слухи?» Услышав недоверие в голосе Варвары, Дарья тяжело вздохнула. «Это правда». Подруга ахнула от потрясения. «Какого чёрта?!» За день Дарья всё обдумала, поэтому относительно спокойно объяснила: «Во-первых, мы с Ренатом поженились исключительно по договорённости. Я всегда знала, что у него нет ко мне никаких чувств, поскольку он женился на мне только потому, что на этом настояла его бабушка. Теперь, когда вернулась женщина, которую он любит, у меня нет причин оставаться. Пришло время позволить им воссоединиться». Варвара испытывала одновременно недоверие и возмущение. «Но… А как же ребёнок? Разве ты не собиралась сделать ему сюрприз?» «А станет ли это для него чудесным сюрпризом? Или ужасным потрясением? - Дарья непроизвольно коснулась своего плоского живота и горько улыбнулась. - В любом случае, я приняла решение развестись и воспитывать этого ребёнка одна. Ему не нужно об этом знать». «Серьёзно, развод? Ты в этом уверена? - с беспокойством спросила Варвара. - Если ты не хочешь, чтобы он узнал о твоей беременности, тебе придётся уйти с работы. Твой живот скоро начнёт расти». «Не волнуйся, я уже об этом подумала и скоро уволюсь. Тогда я наконец смогу вернуться к тому, что мне по-настоящему нравится». Упоминание о её давно забытых мечтах вызвало на лице Дарьи редкую улыбку. «Боже мой! Даша, ты возвращаешься к своей старой карьере? - с восторгом выпалила Варвара. - Это потрясающе! Я всегда верила в тебя! Ты гениальный дизайнер! Берегись, мир! Возвращается легенда в мире дизайна одежды, Светлана Титова! Не стоило растрачивать свой талант, работая все эти годы секретарём Рената. Он того не стоит!» «Светлана Титова...» - потрясённо пробормотала Дарья, услышав этот давно забытый псевдоним. Ради Рената она потеряла себя, практически забыв, кем на самом деле является. «Даша», - внезапно позади неё раздался притягательный мужской голос. Вздрогнув, Дарья обернулась и увидела за своей спиной сурового Рената. Глава 4 Булочка в духовке «Рен... я имею в виду, господин Новиков! Что вы здесь делаете?» Дарью застали врасплох, и она растерянно пыталась подобрать нужные слова. Напуганная девушка поспешно завершила разговор, пытаясь отыскать в лице Рената любые признаки гнева. Когда появился Ренат? Как много он услышал? «Разве мы не собирались сегодня навестить бабушку в больнице?» - нетерпеливо спросил мужчина. В этот момент Дарья вспомнила об их общих планах. Опустив голову, она виновато пробормотала: «Я... Прости». «Хм, - равнодушно хмыкнул Ренат и, не глядя на неё, повернулся и вышел, бросив на ходу. - Пойдём Ошеломлённой девушке потребовалась секунда, прежде чем она пришла в себя и быстро догнала его. По дороге в больницу Дарья пребывала в смятении. Испытывая сложную смесь эмоций, она с тревогой размышляла, не подслушал ли Ренат её разговор с Варварой. Однако затем девушка подумала, что если бы супруг узнал, что она планирует воспитывать ребёнка одна, то сейчас не был бы так спокоен. Они сидели рядом на заднем сиденье в полной тишине. При этом рассеянное поведение Дарьи не осталось без внимания. Не в силах больше это выносить, Ренат нахмурился, слегка повернул голову и спросил: «Что с тобой происходит?» Его глубокий голос напугал Дарью, возвращая к реальности. «Ничего», - поспешно пробормотала она. «Неужели?» - с сомнением в голосе медленно произнёс мужчина. У Дарьи бешено заколотилось сердце. Только она открыла рот, чтобы защититься, как внезапно рядом с её ухом раздался магнетический голос Рената. «Если это действительно пустяк, то почему ты избегаешь меня? Почему не смотришь на меня?» Дарья застыла на месте, не смея пошевелиться. Мужчина едва слышно усмехнулся и нежно взял её за затылок. Краем глаза Дарья заметила, как он медленно наклонился... ...... === Для общественности она была исполнительным секретарём генерального директора. За закрытыми дверями она была женой, которую он никогда официально не признавал. Дарья была счастлива, когда узнала, что беременна. Но радость сменилась ужасом, когда её муж, Ренат, увлёкся своей первой любовью. С тяжёлым сердцем она решила отпустить его и уехать, oн отказался отпустить... Что будет дальше? Количество глав здесь ограничено, нажмите на кнопку ниже, чтобы установить приложение и продолжить чтение более захватывающих глав! 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2,578,823	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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=9M4NHEp7i4EQ7kNvgH1k5jt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYDGva61TN7jx9PzT8y9thClbBvNwO1JiQVMvOkZP8zg6Q&oe=67556B07	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,843	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=doIOKQ-9twcQ7kNvgHtfiig&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYCFXtBMc3oDFS67sRwWMDE3B70vsWVXUwGfLhese-y-Mw&oe=6755763D	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,846	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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/t39.35426-6/467016045_429530010194525_5158613089155121429_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=doIOKQ-9twcQ7kNvgHtfiig&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYCFXtBMc3oDFS67sRwWMDE3B70vsWVXUwGfLhese-y-Mw&oe=6755763D	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,854	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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=9M4NHEp7i4EQ7kNvgH1k5jt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYDGva61TN7jx9PzT8y9thClbBvNwO1JiQVMvOkZP8zg6Q&oe=67556B07	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,855	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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=9M4NHEp7i4EQ7kNvgH1k5jt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYDGva61TN7jx9PzT8y9thClbBvNwO1JiQVMvOkZP8zg6Q&oe=67556B07	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,856	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578858}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	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/	857	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=9M4NHEp7i4EQ7kNvgH1k5jt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYDGva61TN7jx9PzT8y9thClbBvNwO1JiQVMvOkZP8zg6Q&oe=67556B07	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,881	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578870}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞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/	323	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/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=afZtiirWtLoQ7kNvgElYt5U&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYBIOdwOh5xSLSIUsjYTjHFeNdLW7kSiUXjr0QiR_mcnBQ&oe=67556E91	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,886	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578870}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞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/	323	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/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=afZtiirWtLoQ7kNvgElYt5U&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYBIOdwOh5xSLSIUsjYTjHFeNdLW7kSiUXjr0QiR_mcnBQ&oe=67556E91	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,580,509	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2580525}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:10	active	1956			LEARN_MORE	http://WWW.A-MOTORCOMPANY.COM/	A Motors Sales & Finance.	https://www.facebook.com/amotorcompany/	11,066	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	a-motorcompany.com	CAROUSEL	http://WWW.A-MOTORCOMPANY.COM/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469048295_575495471794789_6810052004406760906_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=DcToeSk5SB8Q7kNvgF49btv&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AJ08uZOMRK-sd5bjZC25bRH&oh=00_AYDSeSzgHSH9RRbK1lFiS92_FoIJsi7lrVYZtMgewvModA&oe=67558ABF	PERSON_PROFILE	A Motors Sales & Finance.	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,896	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578888}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞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/	323	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=KXy-oERPMl4Q7kNvgGdRw6J&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYCp83grCBghrgV4_KmegtoZx77r7MxPRJ-IdHPt7tXuJg&oe=67558A72	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,895	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578888}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞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/	323	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=KXy-oERPMl4Q7kNvgGdRw6J&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AL2rQ6VuRafXLk3UNxZHRea&oh=00_AYCp83grCBghrgV4_KmegtoZx77r7MxPRJ-IdHPt7tXuJg&oe=67558A72	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,902	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578901}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,765	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO	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-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/466006044_1247243396516530_1252041975292502345_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=7lZNhZqr0wgQ7kNvgGX-xjU&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYAf1DYi1ppf2suczEBTopfA40wkGoDTAPjx48J7DKKrrA&oe=67557EEA	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,903	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578901}'	No	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I was tortured since I was 6 years old, and more tragically, I was forced to marry the demon Alpha who killed his 9 ex-girlfriends... “Where is she?!” Neah heard the Beta Kyle scream. She groaned and got to her feet, grabbing the cleaning basket and taking it with her. The moment he sees Neah, he strides towards her and his hand slices against her cheek. Neah doesn't make a sound as if she was used to the bully. “Neah, how useless your are! You still have not cleaned the office.” The beta snaps. Neah nods her head and her hand tightens on the cleaning basket. If she could just find the courage to swing it at his head, it would make her day. “We are trying to make a good impression on Alpha Dane. Do you not understand how important it is for us to join ourselves with his pack?!” Neah doesn't answer and she just keeps her eyes low to avert his face. Alpha Dane, she had ever heard rumours about him. From what she gathered, he was a ruthless man, and he was even claimed to have killed his 9 ex-girlfriends. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He places his hands on Neah's shoulders, digging his nails into her thinning skin, ”Useless Wolf.” He mutters as he moves away. Quietly closing the door, Neah leans back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. Closing her eyes, Neah slides down to the floor. She hated this house. She thought when she turned 18, she could finally escape, but four years later, here she still is, a slave in her own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for her brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While her ex mate, Beta Kyle was always reminding her of how worthless she is. The clearing of a throat makes her jump. She thought she was alone. Leaning forward, Neah sees a handsome man sitting in a chair. A foot propped up on his knee. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to her and she throws herself back against the door. Shrinking down to the ground. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” Neah whispers, getting to her feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” She had no idea who he was but she could feel the power radiating off of him, even without her Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders. Neah does as she's told. Allowing him to see her properly and she is met with narrowed crimson eyes. She closes her own eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” Neah's head moved up and down, though she couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they discovered the truth about her. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” Neah whispers. “I am…I am a Wolf.” She couldn’t help but think of all the punishments she was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? She wasn’t sure how much more her body could take. “How is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…..” Neah hated the question. “I haven’t got all day!” He takes a swig from his drink. She knew why she couldn’t scent him. She knew why she hadn’t been aware of his presence, but telling people why was not something she ever liked to do. They never hear her side of the story. All they do is accept Alpha Trey's word as the truth. “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. Has your Alpha not taught you anything?” His deep voice sends a shiver through her. Slowly, she opens her eyes and lowers them. There was no way she was making direct eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound.” “Why?” If this is the Alpha that her brother is supposed to be meeting with, she knew she could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” “For what?” His deep voice rumbles through her. “For killing my parents.” Neah whispered. At this moment, the door swings open abruptly and her brother screeches at her “Neah, what are you doing in my office?!" He then turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane." Crap, it was him. Neah couldn't help but worry about the punishments she would face...	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,765	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	wwwedb.com	VIDEO	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/t39.35426-6/465737836_457793077328912_8861045446566645248_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=v6pyv6UIZxkQ7kNvgHg9obV&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYD_Qyf_koBogamAMrKK0BZMr6nTGqgvQ1ZIEMJzH1_xIA&oe=67559B0C	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,906	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578905}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&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/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=leirMGrOFwYQ7kNvgEGxXf3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYAj4lPERYSd-MoPmqlviTKliUabO9osyu5cNt0VUSTh8w&oe=67558752	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,913	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578906}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:03	active	1956	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	When Helena Lane arrived at the police station, dawn had yet to break. Tiny snowflakes swirled in the night wind, melting as soon as they touched the ground, leaving a muddy mess. Two hours earlier, Helena had received news that her newlywed husband, Kenneth Keller, had been arrested on suspicion of assault. Not wanting to alarm her family, she came alone as his lawyer and closest relative. Seated in the visitation room, Helena was focused on cleaning the grayish mud off her high heels when Kenneth entered, escorted by two officers. Seeing her, his eyes flickered with a hint of surprise before he casually slouched into the seat across from her, looking more relaxed than he ever did at home. There wasn’t a hint of panic in his demeanor and certainly no trace of fear. As the heir to one of Greenwick’s most powerful family empires, Kenneth was notorious for his rebellious streak, acting with complete disregard for convention and authority. Fear? It was something others felt around him, not the other way around. Had it not been for the high-ranking officer overseeing the case, he wouldn’t have been here at all, no matter what trouble he caused. Helena stared at him, expressionless, and got straight to the point. “Mr. Keller, care to explain what happened last night?” Kenneth draped his arms over the back of the chair, lazily studying the woman seated opposite him, who looked all serious and professional. Her camel cashmere coat was pressed to perfection, her clear, unblemished face free of makeup, and her low ponytail perfectly in place. She showed none of the anger or panic one might expect from a wife who’d just learned of her husband’s charges. Her demeanor was all business. “And are you asking as the corporate attorney, or…” he let his lips curl slightly, pausing deliberately, then lowered his voice to a murmur, “as my wife?” The low, suggestive tone seemed to linger in the air, but Helena remained unfazed, her gaze cool. “Is there a difference?” He raised an eyebrow. “If you’re here as an attorney, I want a replacement.” He paused, then gave her a sidelong glance, a touch of mischief gleaming in his eyes. “If you’re here as my wife, then you should start by calling me ‘honey.’” Helena glanced at him, completely unamused by the little game he was playing in a situation like this. This was all too typical of him. “If the charges stick, you’ll be looking at three to ten years behind bars.” Helena’s cool voice was laced with sarcasm as she added, “Tired of your fancy feasts, Mr. Keller? Thought you’d try bread and pickles for a change?” Kenneth met her mildly annoyed gaze. He was entirely unfazed and even held a roguish grin. “What, worried about me?” Seeing that Kenneth had no intention of cooperating, Helena, who had only come as a formality, decided not to waste any more time and rose to leave. “This is the police station, Mr. Keller. Talking nonsense here is more troublesome than keeping silent,” she reminded him, urging him not to spout off. “And remember, we signed a prenuptial agreement.” Feelings of attachment had no place in their contractual, paper-thin marriage. Were it not for the fact that he was needed at the South City project bidding event that afternoon—or the concern that his grandmother would worry if she learned of his arrest—she wouldn’t have bothered with him at all. It wasn’t until Helena’s figure disappeared through the door that Kenneth slowly withdrew his gaze. She hadn’t even glanced back, completely indifferent to whether or not he’d assaulted another woman. But then again, to her, their marriage was never real. She’d personally drafted the prenuptial agreement and had never considered him a life partner. In truth, she had never intended for him to play any lasting role in her life. The roguish smile on his handsome face faded gradually. His eyelids lowered, and his eyes held a barely perceptible hint of disappointment. Ten minutes later, Helena found herself outside the interview room, facing the lead officer, Eric Langston. After five years, Eric’s aura was more intimidating than ever, radiating a fierce, unapproachable presence that surpassed even what she remembered. Helena had anticipated seeing Eric at the police station, but when she finally faced him, she paused for a couple of seconds to collect herself. Five years ago, Helena could never have guessed that, Eric, her frugal, hardworking senior—a man she’d worked part-time jobs with—came from a prominent family. That was until Eric’s mother warned her, “A beggar of unknown origin, a stray the Keller family took in, daring to latch onto my son? Take a good look at yourself! “My son has a fiancée—someone whose family background, upbringing, and character make you unworthy to even shine her shoes. Oh, and in case you didn’t know, they’ll be going abroad together soon. “You’d better understand your place and stop shamelessly clinging to my son. Getting rid of someone as low as you is easier than squashing an ant.” Before she turned seven, Helena had been forced to beg on the streets, only to be rescued during a police raid on a human trafficking ring. Since her parents were never identified through the DNA database, she was sent to an orphanage. She grew up used to the scorn of others but never had she felt such raw humiliation. It was as though her dignity had been ripped away, thrown to the ground, and trampled upon. Any feelings she had for Eric vanished completely. If he hadn’t hidden his identity, she wouldn’t have suffered this shame. Out of pride and resentment, she never saw him again after that, even after he graduated. As time went by, Helena realized that Eric’s mother had been behind it all and that she might have directed some of her resentment toward him unfairly. With a polite yet distant smile, Helena broke the silence. “Eric, it’s been a long time.” Eric assessed Helena with an impassive gaze. Seeing her composed demeanor, he raised his brows slightly and nodded. He then turned and entered the interview room first. Helena exhaled deeply, steeling herself as she followed him inside as a witness. Her marriage to Kenneth was a well-kept secret. Aside from close family, no one knew they were married. Kenneth refused to cooperate with the police, adamantly withholding any details about what happened the previous night. Left with no choice, Helena had to implement a backup plan: testifying as his wife. After all, rumor had it that in Wellington's criminal investigations division, Eric was known as the “Judge"—once he set his sights on someone, even the smallest sins from birth would be unearthed. Kenneth, being the reckless type, was bound to have skeletons in his closet. With the South City project at a critical juncture and Kenneth’s role as CEO on the line, this was the worst possible time for a scandal. Moreover, his grandmother's frail health couldn't withstand such a shock. Helena knew she had to protect him, both for professional and personal reasons. Once the deposition was complete, Eric regarded Helena with a complicated expression. “When did you and Mr. Keller get married?” Helena met his intense gaze, feeling a slight ripple in her heart before quickly composing herself. She replied calmly, “Almost a month ago. Would you like to see the marriage certificate?” It had only been a month since Eric had applied for a transfer back to Greenwick. Had it not been for a minor delay in the paperwork... Eric’s gaze darkened, and after a moment, he spoke with difficulty, “Are you certain you were with him the entire night?” After a brief pause, he added, “As a lawyer, you should be aware of the consequences of perjury.” Sensing his doubt, Helena took a deep breath and responded with professional confidence. “According to Article 305 of the Criminal Code, committing perjury is punishable by up to three years in prison or detention. In serious cases, it carries a sentence of three to seven years. "And if a lawyer commits a crime intentionally, their license will be revoked. Which is precisely why my testimony carries even more weight.” Kenneth had been accused of breaking into a hotel room at 12:37 a.m., assaulting a female celebrity, and not leaving until more than two hours had passed. Testifying as his wife, Helena claimed that Kenneth had been home until just before midnight, stepping out only at 11:57 p.m. By her calculations, even in the fastest sports car, it would take at least an hour to reach the hotel from their house. Moreover, she had obtained all surveillance footage from the route Kenneth took after leaving, each clip showing him driving past, proving he had no time to commit the crime. Chapter 0002 "The police retrieved hotel surveillance screenshots that show the perpetrator wearing a mask. Basing suspicion on nothing more than a similar build and hairstyle is clearly insufficient evidence.” Helena’s voice was calm but precise, each word landing with conviction. Eric felt a slight ringing in his ears from her firm tone. Watching her, who was radiating professional confidence, he couldn’t help but recall how she once dominated the debate stage back in college with the same spirit. The secondary officer, noticing Eric’s silence, couldn’t hold back. “The victim identified him personally, and we found DNA that matches Mr. Keller’s—that’s our strongest evidence!” Helena’s sharp, clear gaze didn’t waver; she remained as composed as ever, unshaken. “After more than two hours of alleged assault, not a single fingerprint or any other biological trace was recovered from the victim or the scene. I have every reason to believe Kenneth is being framed.” The secondary officer protested, “What if he knew how to cover his tracks, cleaning the scene thoroughly?” “What if?” Helena’s lips curved slightly, and her eyes held a confident gleam. “What if he wasn’t there at all? It’s the police’s duty to eliminate reasonable doubt; the law doesn’t permit presumption of guilt.” The officer was left speechless, eventually turning to Eric for backup, only to see him staring at Helena in a daze. Unable to resist, he nudged Eric with his elbow. “You…do you really believe him?” Eric finally came to his senses, his voice hoarse as he asked. Helena paused, taken aback. Did she believe Kenneth? Ever since she was adopted by the Keller family at ten, supposedly due to a favorable fortune reading, she had witnessed Kenneth’s defiance and disregard for rules and morals, his actions always based on his whims. But when she received the news of his arrest around three in the morning, even knowing the police had collected his DNA, her first move hadn’t been to go to the station. Instead, she’d instructed someone to look for evidence of his alibi. Subconsciously, when it came to this matter, she actually trusted Kenneth! No matter how he usually acted out, he’d never crossed that line. This realization brought an inexplicable unease to her heart. She averted her gaze from Eric and said softly but firmly, “I only trust the evidence.” Eric watched her, remaining silent for a long time. With the alibi evidence presented, Kenneth’s suspicion was reduced. Given his influential status, the police had no choice but to grant Helena’s request for bail. “Someone actually managed to wrest a detainee from the captain’s hands—looks like we’re in for a miracle,” murmured an officer. "Miss Lane works for the legal department at Keller Corporation, doesn’t she? She’s not only beautiful but also impressively skilled with criminal cases—definitely worth a second look." "She’s actually two years his junior—they’re both alumni. With all her achievements, how did they not know each other back then?" Eric stood by the window, the officers' murmurs buzzing in his ears, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene below. The tall, commanding figure of a man walked out of the police station, following a slender woman. From behind, they looked like a perfect match, though it stung to watch. Eric’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched instinctively. Memories from five years ago surfaced vividly. At graduation, his family arranged for him to study abroad. Before leaving, he asked Helena to meet him, intending to confess his feelings. If she was willing, he’d take her with him; he’d even secured a spot for her at the same school. But from evening until dawn, he waited for five long hours. Helena never showed, and then she blocked his number. Unable to let go, he sought her out that night, only to witness Helena stepping out of Kenneth’s car, her clothes disheveled. Sensing his presence, Kenneth shifted to block her view, shielding her as they headed toward the house. One of Kenneth’s security guards quickly covered Eric’s mouth and dragged him to the side entrance. Eric struggled, desperate to confront Helena and find out what had happened but was met with Kenneth’s unrestrained fist. "She’s mine. Try to get close to her again, and I don’t care if your last name’s Langston—I’ll end you life." After that night, every attempt Eric made to see Helena was thwarted by Kenneth. Finally, Kenneth “accidentally” called him, letting him hear Helena say she didn’t want to see him and never would. Eric had given himself five years to let go, yet he still couldn’t. But now, he had come back only to find he was one step too late! Back then, Eric sensed that Helena had feelings for him. Taking a deep breath, he suppressed the surge of resentment and resisted the urge to rush down and pull Helena away. Kenneth, initially following leisurely behind Helena, suddenly quickened his pace as they approached the car, as though sensing something. He wrapped an arm around her, his touch overly intimate. Helena’s body went rigid, and she instinctively tried to push him off with a frown. "What’s gotten into you now?" "Didn’t sleep all night—can’t walk straight," Kenneth replied, completely unbothered, practically leaning his full weight onto her shoulder. Helena muttered, “Serves you right,” under her breath. Realizing they were almost at the car and that she couldn’t budge him, she gave up and resigned herself to dragging him along like a dead weight. Fortunately, ever since Kenneth had pushed her into the fountain when she was twelve, she’d kept up with self-defense training over the years, enough to prevent him from easily knocking her over. Finally reaching the car, Kenneth, in a rare moment of consideration, opened the door for her and even held a hand above the frame to protect her from bumping her head. Helena eyed him warily. “What are you up to now?” From the first day she’d met Kenneth, she’d learned that the prettier the smile, the more dangerous the person. "I'm Kenneth Keller; you can call me Ken!" Helena had never seen such a beautiful boy before. Standing in the sunlight, he looked like a porcelain doll that glowed. His bright smile eased some of her nervousness at being in her new home. She shyly placed her hand in his. But the next moment, his smile turned malicious and dangerous. She felt something slimy squirm in her palm, and when she looked down, a small green snake was flicking its tongue at her. Horrified, Helena fainted instantly. He was worse than the kids who bullied her back at the orphanage. As Kenneth grew older, his methods of teasing and tormenting Helena became endlessly inventive. Helena went from feeling nervous and afraid to a constant state of vigilance, learning to gauge the level of danger just by reading his expressions and movements. Just like now. Her entire body tensed, ready to respond at any moment. Kenneth’s roguish grin spread across his finely sculpted face, softening with an unusual gentleness. “Coming all the way here early in the morning to rescue me from 'Judge Langston'—thanks for the effort, honey.” Helena held his gaze for a few seconds, assessing the threat level. Confirming it was low, she mentally deactivated her alert. She rubbed her arms discreetly, trying to shake off the goosebumps, then leaned down and got into the car. Kenneth shut the door for her and made his way around to the passenger side. Before getting in, he shot a smug, defiant grin and lifted his brows at a particular window of the police station, oozing satisfaction. “Where did you actually go last night?” Helena finally asked after they’d driven a fair distance from the station. Though she’d found enough evidence to prove Kenneth didn’t have time to commit the crime, the police had still found his DNA at the scene, a fact that couldn’t be overlooked. Without clearing up this detail, his suspicion wouldn’t fully dissipate. Knowing his movements would allow Helena to defend him more effectively and prevent further police scrutiny. Kenneth reclined lazily in his seat, adopting his usual indifference. He shot back with her own words, “Did you forget about the prenuptial agreement you drafted yourself, Miss Lane?” No interference. No questions. It was the most crucial clause in their marriage agreement, second only to asset division—the very foundation of their contractual union. “Mr. Keller, I have no intention of prying into your private life,” Helena said, keeping her eyes on the road as she gripped the steering wheel, patiently explaining, “Right now, you’re only out on bail. The police haven’t dropped their suspicions. Knowing your whereabouts last night is the only way to clear you.” Kenneth suddenly sat up, turning to study the sharp lines of her profile. His eyes flickered slightly, and his voice held a faint, almost undetectable trace of tension. “Do you…believe I didn’t do it?” Chapter 0003 Helena ignored Kenneth’s odd look and said coolly, "What kind of woman could you possibly not get, Mr. Keller? You don’t need to stoop to something so low." In terms of looks, wealth, and power, Kenneth was a constant presence in the country’s top three "Most Eligible Bachelors" lists. Women who fawned over him numbered in the thousands. A month ago, on that fateful night when he’d let his guard slip—an infatuated woman had drugged him, leading to an unexpected encounter with a drunken Helena. Kenneth scoffed and settled back into his seat, smirking. “Since you know me so well, Miss Lane, why don’t you take a guess at where I was last night?” Helena frowned slightly. “Mr. Keller, your lack of cooperation will only prolong the police investigation.” “And so what?” Kenneth scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Are you worried the police will dig too deep, or are you more concerned that someone else might come up empty-handed?” Realizing he’d let slip more than he intended, Kenneth quickly shifted his focus, glancing at the upcoming intersection. “Take a left here and drop me off at the Starlight Club.” Ignoring his veiled jabs, Helena kept her tone professional. “The afternoon’s bidding event is important. You’ll need to attend in top form.” Without a word, she continued driving in the opposite direction, away from the club. Kenneth was silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze with a wry smile. “Miss Lane, are you planning to breach the marriage agreement? Because if that’s the case, then I could ask you to fulfill certain marital duties.” Screech! The car came to an abrupt halt. The white sedan quickly reversed direction and headed straight for Greenwick’s largest entertainment club. When Kenneth chose to be reckless, nothing—not even a contract—could rein him in. The only reason he upheld their agreement was that Helena had followed it to the letter. If she broke it, what right did she have to expect him to do the same? Though Kenneth was unpredictable, he never shirked his responsibilities. After a night out and a morning spent at Starlight, he still showed up impeccably dressed and right on time for the afternoon bidding event. But as soon as it ended, he vanished once again. Helena was on her way back to the office when she received a call from Kenneth’s grandmother, Rachel Wilson. “Helena, the bidding event is over, right? Don’t forget to come home with Kenneth for dinner tonight!” That was when it hit Helena—it was the end of the month. The Keller family rule required every family member in Greenwick to return home for dinner on the last day of the month, no matter how busy they were. Kenneth never took that family rule seriously; it was always up to Helena to remind him. This time, however, she’d been too busy reviewing bid documents and dealing with Kenneth’s issues at the police station that morning, so the reminder had slipped her mind. Not wanting to disappoint Rachel, Helena reluctantly called Kenneth three times. But he didn’t answer his phone. Kenneth was too independent to tolerate bodyguards trailing him. His protection detail consisted of covert security, hidden and discreet. Helena hesitated, ultimately deciding not to ask them for his whereabouts. They only answered to Kenneth, and they might not tell her anyway. Besides, if he found out she’d been trying to track him down, who knew what kind of reaction she’d face? Left with no choice, Helena headed to the Starlight Club on the off chance he’d be there. It seemed her luck was in her favor. She had been to the club a few times before with her friend, Miranda Cook, so the manager recognized her. Upon learning she was looking for Kenneth, he graciously offered to pass along the message. After a few minutes, the manager returned, looking pale, and shook his head apologetically. "Miss Lane, I’m sorry, but Mr. Keller said he’s unavailable." Helena lowered her gaze, keeping her expression unchanged. When the manager had opened the door to enter, she’d caught a quick glimpse inside. In the room, a sultry woman in a skimpy outfit was moving suggestively to the music, clinging to a pole in a dance. She hadn’t seen Kenneth directly, but with such a lively atmosphere, it was clear he wasn’t short of female company. So, he was irritated that she’d interrupted his fun. Helena offered the manager a polite smile, slipped him a few bills from her wallet as a tip, and left the club, heading back to her car. “Five minutes. If you don’t come down by then, I’m leaving. You can explain yourself to Grandma.” Helena pulled out her phone, found Kenneth’s profile picture, and quickly sent him a message. The last text she’d sent him was a month ago, forwarding the marriage agreement, to which he’d replied with a curt “Whatever.” After hitting send, she set a five-minute countdown on her phone, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes to rest. Kenneth had been raised by Rachel and held a deep respect for her. Helena had once overheard someone joking, “Kenneth Keller fears nothing and no one—except a call from his grandmother.” While an exaggeration, there was truth to it. Kenneth, like an untamed stallion, answered to no one… except Rachel. Sure enough, with five seconds left on the countdown, the passenger door flew open. As Kenneth slid into the car, a blast of icy wind rushed in, making Helena shiver as her eyes snapped open. “Grown some nerve, haven’t you? Threatening me now?” Kenneth’s eyes narrowed even further, his gaze sharp and dangerous. Before Helena could respond, her phone’s alarm went off. It was the countdown reminder. She casually switched it off and started the car. “You flatter me, Mr. Keller. I didn’t mean to ruin your fun, but today is a special case. After all, Grandma is waiting for you.” Kenneth’s frustration turned to a bitter smile as he replied with a mocking tone, “Too bad your last name isn’t Keller. Otherwise, people might think you’re her real grandchild.” With a frustrated exhale, he slammed the passenger door shut, making the car jolt slightly as it pulled away from the curb. The biting chill that had entered quickly faded, replaced by the warmth of the car’s heater—set to full, just the way Helena liked it in the cramped space since she hated the cold. Helena kept her hands steady on the wheel, stealing a quick sideways glance at Kenneth. The dim overhead light cast a warm, amber glow over his sculpted profile, softening the sharp lines of his face and adding an unreadable depth to his eyes. She lowered her gaze, instinctively avoiding any unnecessary confrontation. When Rachel chose Helena from the orphanage, she’d been explicit about her intentions: adopting and supporting Helena was all for the benefit of her grandson, Kenneth. Helena was to be his subordinate, his friend, his partner, and possibly even his wife. But not even Rachel could have predicted that Kenneth would see Helena as a rival. From her first day in the Keller family, Kenneth had made it his mission to give Helena a hard time. Initially, Helena thought her presence was unwelcome and that perhaps he genuinely disliked her. Later, she realized it was jealousy driving him. He resented her for the affection Rachel showed her, feeling as if she had stolen his exclusive bond with Rachel. Once Helena understood that, she stopped trying to earn Kenneth’s approval and kept her distance as much as possible. Her path was clear: to be Kenneth’s loyal subordinate, protect him, and repay the Keller family’s support and care. Everything unfolded as she planned. After graduating from college, she joined Keller Corporation’s legal department, shielding Kenneth’s reckless behavior and ensuring he maintained his CEO position. But everything changed the night they, both drunk, slept together—and were caught by Rachel. To ease Rachel’s worries, Kenneth approached Helena with a proposal for a contractual marriage. In exchange, once the timing was right, they would divorce, and she would be free to live her life as she pleased. Freeing herself from the burden of the Keller family’s debt was something Helena secretly yearned for; deep down, she had no desire to remain entangled with Kenneth. But then, just as they were settling into the marriage, Rachel fell ill, diagnosed with a terminal condition after being hospitalized from the initial shock. To ease Rachel’s mind, Helena agreed to Kenneth’s proposal. Though she wasn’t Rachel’s biological granddaughter—and Rachel’s decision to adopt her had been partly self-serving—over the years, Helena had felt genuine love and care from Rachel. In her heart, she had come to see Rachel as her only family in the world. Not wanting to leave any regrets behind for her, Helena resolved to make this contract marriage appear as genuine as possible. Until the end, she would maintain the pretense of playing the role of a devoted wife to give Rachel peace. Chapter 0004 At the entrance of the Keller Estate. After Helena parked the car, Kenneth silently stepped out. Seeing this, Helena quickly got out as well and hurried to follow. They had to put on a complete act in front of Rachel, pretending to be a deeply affectionate couple. Fortunately, Kenneth kept his composure. Just as they approached the main gate, he paused for a brief moment. Seizing the opportunity, Helena stepped forward, gently wrapping her hand around his arm. Kenneth’s movements stiffened slightly. He slowly lowered his gaze, eyeing her slender hand resting on the crook of his arm. Helena took a deep breath, lifted her gaze, and smiled at him. “For Grandma’s sake, please bear with me, dear husband.” “Likewise.” Kenneth’s thin lips curved slightly, his tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Thank you for your hard work, dear wife.” After a brief pause, he lifted his other hand and firmly pressed down on the back of Helena’s hand, giving her a meaningful smile before striding forward. Caught off guard, Helena stumbled slightly, managing to steady herself after a moment. Yet, his smile left her heart racing, filled with unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Kenneth was quietly plotting something again! The Keller Estate was a traditional classical manor, elegant and refined, crafted with ingenuity. The architecture lay nestled by hills and waters, with layered courtyards and pavilions. Helena and Kenneth followed the servant for a while before arriving at the main dining hall. Inside the brightly lit dining hall, the large mahogany dining table, intricately carved, was already surrounded by family members. The Keller family of Greenwick had nearly a century of history, but by Kenneth's grandfather's generation, the line had dwindled to just two sons and a daughter—none of whom had lived up to expectations. Kenneth’s grandfather, Walter Keller, had three children, each a disappointment in their own way. The eldest son was rebellious, storming out of the family home after Walter opposed his marriage to a mysterious dancer. Since that day, he vanished without a trace. The second son, Kenneth’s father, Raymond Keller, made his escape with a mistress, choosing to leave on the rainy night of Kenneth’s third birthday, only to meet his end in a car accident. Walter’s only daughter went abroad for school, fell for a delinquent, and chose to sever ties with her family rather than return. Hurt by his children, Walter grew indifferent toward Kenneth, instead investing his hopes in the extended family’s descendants. Near the end of his life, he nearly handed over the Keller family assets to his nephew. But Rachel intervened decisively. Leading a team of lawyers, she reclaimed control over the Keller family, defying opposition to appoint Kenneth as CEO of Keller Corporation. However, in the years Walter had been lenient, the extended family had embedded themselves within the Keller Corporation, securing key positions in various critical departments. Now and then, they continued their schemes, still aiming to wrest control of Keller Corporation from Kenneth. Rachel was fully aware of everything, but her age left her with limited strength; all she could do was maintain the delicate balance between Kenneth and the extended Keller family. In the banquet hall, only the members of the extended family were seated alongside Rachel. The head seat remained vacant, and the tableware set, as always, was reserved for Walter. Rachel, who had been listlessly listening to their complaints, brightened as soon as she saw Kenneth and Helena enter. Her eyes sparkled as she beckoned them over with a smile. "Ken, Lena, you're back! Come, have a seat!" The relatives who had been talking with Rachel were visibly displeased at being ignored, despite their attempts to hide it. Kenneth, however, appeared oblivious, leading Helena with confidence to sit beside Rachel. Leaning in, he whispered something to Rachel that had her laughing with joy, her gaze shifting periodically to Helena’s abdomen. Helena’s unease only grew stronger. With Rachel present, she couldn’t say anything directly, so when Kenneth turned to look at her, she shot him a warning look to stay quiet. He merely smirked with a laid-back, roguish grin, which made her grit her teeth and glare at him with even more frustration. To onlookers, however, this seemed like an affectionate exchange, with the young couple exchanging flirtatious glances. Not only had they kept everyone waiting, showing up late to the family dinner without so much as an apology, but they were now putting on a show of intimacy, clearly not taking the others seriously. Recalling Kenneth's usual audacious demeanor, the uncles were increasingly irritated. Kenneth’s eldest relative, Jerome Keller, was the first to break the silence. “I thought the bidding meeting for the South City project ended this afternoon. Did you two go off to a celebration party afterward?” With Jerome setting the tone, other relatives quickly chimed in. "What celebration could possibly be more important than a family dinner? Ken, we may overlook certain things you do outside, but traditions passed down through generations deserve respect." “Helena, Grandma has spent years teaching and guiding you, yet instead of keeping Ken in check, you go along with his antics. You’re letting her down!” Subtle verbal jabs came at her from all directions. Helena, long accustomed to this, kept her gaze lowered and ignored their insinuating remarks, turning a deaf ear to the sharp-edged words aimed her way. After all, with Kenneth here, he would be the one to handle these people when things got out of control. Sure enough, in the next instant, Kenneth's smile vanished. He suddenly hurled the expensive teacup in his hand, sending it crashing across the room. The sharp sound of shattering porcelain echoed through the banquet hall, creating an atmosphere of intense pressure that radiated from him, silencing everyone in an instant. Even the small child in someone's arms was too frightened to make a sound. “Celebration dinner, family dinner—it doesn’t matter. If there’s food, just eat and be content, but know your limits. Otherwise, I have plenty of ways to make what you eat go right back out. “The biggest rule in the Keller family is that there are no rules. Otherwise, none of you would be here making pointless remarks. “Neither I nor Grandma see any issues with Helena being the next matriarch, yet you all feel entitled to judge. If you’re so eager to critique, should I air some of your dirty laundry so we can all evaluate each other?” Kenneth crossed his arms and leaned back, one leg resting casually over the other, his gaze lingering on Jerome for a moment before sweeping lazily around the room. His expression was like that of a grim reaper in idle contemplation, deciding which one of them he might claim next. The unfiltered suggestion, the blatant sarcasm—even an obvious challenge glimmered in his eyes. Hearing the implication behind his words, the extended members of the family felt both offended and afraid, their discomfort evident as they instinctively looked toward Jerome for direction. "Ken, we’re your elders, just offering reminders for your own good and for the family’s sake," Jerome replied, holding Kenneth’s sharp gaze for a moment before shifting to Helena. "Since we're on the topic of secrets, why don’t we let Helena explain why she was at the police station this morning?" At that, Helena’s heart skipped a beat. She’d received a call from the police that morning and had promptly informed the PR department to keep the news tightly contained. Yet somehow, Jerome knew she had gone to the police station that morning! Helena instinctively glanced at Kenneth, only to find him seated there, arms crossed, a faintly amused look in his eyes as he noticed her gaze. Years of understanding between them meant that with just one look, Helena grasped his intention. He was subtly hinting at Jerome’s embezzlement, deliberately provoking him by implying he could make him spit it back out. Jerome, who had never taken Kenneth seriously, wasn’t one to tolerate a threat and quickly struck back. But in doing so, he unwittingly exposed his weakness. Yet Kenneth had used her as bait without warning, setting her up as part of his ploy to corner Jerome! Helena clenched her fists discreetly, gritting her teeth in silence. Her instincts hadn’t let her down—Kenneth was definitely up to something, setting this trap with her squarely in the middle of it. She knew he was about to throw her under the bus, yet she had no choice but to play along, as if she were a willing partner in the scheme. It was maddening! If not for Rachel’s presence, Helena truly would have loved to walk out and let Kenneth handle this on his own. Sensing the tension, Rachel looked over anxiously and asked, “Lena, is everything alright?” “Grandma.” Helena took a deep breath, calming herself before gently patting Rachel’s hand with a reassuring smile. “If something was wrong, would I still be here sitting beside you?” Rachel still seemed unconvinced and glanced at Kenneth, who nodded lazily with a faint smile, which finally put her at ease. Taking advantage of the moment, Helena shot Kenneth a quick glare before turning back, her expression subtly mocking as she looked at Jerome. “Uncle Jerome, I didn’t expect you to be so concerned about me, knowing my whereabouts in such detail. To an outsider, it might look as if you’d had someone tailing me!” Helena indirectly called out Jerome’s surveillance, tossing the ball back into his court with effortless poise. “As your niece-in-law, I may not be the brightest, but I truly don’t understand what you’re implying. Why don’t you clarify what exactly it is that I’ve done that’s so questionable?” Chapter 0005 Jerome knew he’d misspoken, yet he hardly cared that Helena had caught him slipping. “This morning, you rushed off to the police station—wasn’t it to reconnect with that new captain of the station, Eric Langston?” Helena’s heart skipped a beat. Not only was Jerome fully aware of her whereabouts, but he also knew she was acquainted with Eric. She’d underestimated Jerome. After all, when she met Eric seven years ago, he was reserved and unapproachable, always keeping his distance from others. Moreover, his mother had erased all traces of her connection with Eric to remove the stain she posed on their family, clearing all records and keeping everything well-hidden. Almost no one knew that she and Eric had been familiar with each other, let alone shared a faintly ambiguous past. If Jerome had the means to uncover her connection with Eric, he could just as easily find out why Kenneth had gone to the police station. Hinting at an old flame between her and Eric was clearly an attempt to drive a wedge. If she didn’t deny it, Rachel would naturally start to doubt her relationship with Kenneth. And even if Kenneth knew the truth, Jerome’s words would plant seeds of suspicion in his heart that would, over time, lead to cracks. On the other hand, denying it would inevitably drag up the accusations of assault against Kenneth. If Rachel found out, it would not only make her question their story of falling in love over time and choosing to marry but also leave her disappointed in Kenneth. Jerome would then seize the opportunity to make even more outrageous demands. "Uncle Jerome, you really give me too much credit." Helena’s mind raced, though her expression remained unreadable. "If I actually had any history with Mr. Langston, I’d certainly have asked him to treat you a bit more courteously before your visit." Jerome’s pupils contracted, and his expression, like a fractured mask, began to crack silently. Eric’s position was indeed unique, and Jerome had specifically arranged a visit to him on the first day he arrived in Greenwick. There were countless people eager to meet him, and Jerome had struggled through numerous attempts just to secure an appointment. When they finally met, Eric’s demeanor was cold and cutting, his gaze sharp and distant, as though he’d seen right through Jerome’s intentions from the start. In an attempt to bridge the gap, Jerome had mentioned Helena, who had once been Eric’s schoolmate. Unexpectedly, what was initially supposed to be a brief five-minute meeting turned into a half-hour conversation with Eric. And just last night, despite the gravity of the incident surrounding Kenneth—witnesses and evidence stacked against him—Helena had still managed to bail him out from the station. After all, Eric wasn’t just any officer; he was known as the "Judge." Sensing an opportunity, Jerome had dropped hints in front of everyone, trying to gauge Helena’s relationship with Eric, hoping it would strain her connection with Kenneth. Without Helena’s support, he was certain Rachel would eventually see Kenneth as the reckless badboy he truly was. At that point, they could employ a few well-planned moves to seize everything from the Keller family. Yet Jerome hadn’t anticipated that young Helena would maintain her composure so well, even managing to turn the tables on him. The Kellers had strict rules: family members could pursue either business or government, but never both. His secret meeting with Eric was already a breach of those family principles. Noticing the scrutinizing looks from the other relatives, particularly the sharp stares from Rachel and Kenneth, Jerome felt a pang of unease, uncertain how Helena had learned of his visit with Eric. His chest tightened as he gritted his teeth and pressed on, “So if it wasn’t to catch up with Mr. Langston, why did you rush to the station first thing this morning?” Before Helena could respond, she sensed something amiss and instinctively stood to shield Rachel. A loud bang erupted in the next instant. Kenneth, without warning, flipped the entire dining table in Jerome’s direction. Jerome had no time to dodge as dishes, utensils, and food crashed down onto him. A plate of green vegetables landed squarely on his head, resembling a makeshift hat perched on his hair. Ignoring Jerome’s disheveled appearance and the twisted fury on his face, Kenneth leaned back in his seat, casually wiping his fingers. His movements were graceful, his expression relaxed as if he were seated in a tranquil riverside pavilion, leisurely listening to a distant melody. “It seems the Keller family meal doesn’t suit everyone’s taste,” Kenneth said, his voice calm. “In that case, no one needs to eat.” He paused briefly before adding, “And as for the end-of-month family dinner tradition, it’s time we canceled that as well.” With a casual wave, his private guards and bodyguards emerged, promptly escorting all extended relatives out of the estate. Rachel looked on, momentarily stunned, before giving Kenneth a disapproving glance. “Ken, you’ve managed to offend all your relatives.” Kenneth raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “They openly disrespected me. Did they really think they wouldn’t offend me?” Beside him, Helena felt her eye twitch. Would it ever end? He’d clearly wanted to cancel the end-of-month dinner for a while and had finally found his excuse, all under the pretense of “protecting” her. Rachel’s gaze shifted between Helena and Kenneth, her expression softening as she smiled knowingly. “Seeing how well you two get along really puts my mind at ease!” “Well, since you’re at ease, how about cooperating with the doctor and focusing on getting better?” Kenneth stepped forward, gently holding Rachel’s arm, while his other hand reached around to brush Helena’s cheek, his eyes on her. “What do you say, darling?” Though filled with frustration, Helena had no choice but to offer a sweet smile and nod. With an exaggerated sigh, Rachel looked longingly at Helena. “Ah, if I could just hold a great-grandchild in my arms, I’d be content even in death!” Helena’s mind immediately flashed back to Kenneth’s earlier whispered words to Rachel, which had made her repeatedly glance at Helena’s abdomen. He must have said something he shouldn’t have! After hesitating for a few seconds, she couldn’t bear to let Rachel down and spoke gently, “Grandma, as long as you take care of yourself, I’m sure that day will come.” Rachel beamed with joy at Helena's response. Since the family dinner had been cut short, Rachel instructed the staff to bring out fresh dishes. With Helena and Kenneth accompanying her, she enjoyed an extra small plate of pasta, a rare treat, and asked them both to stay overnight at the estate so they could join her for breakfast in the morning. Kenneth, evidently too tired to return to the Starlight Club for his usual late-night revelry, surprisingly agreed. Helena, with no other choice, stayed as well. They returned to the room Rachel had prepared for them. The spacious room was decorated with romantic touches, and in the soft glow of flickering candles, the atmosphere felt thick with unspoken tension. The bed, draped in pure white sheets, was scattered with red roses arranged in a large heart shape, their rich fragrance filling the air. Helena and Kenneth exchanged glances, both speechless. She quickly found the light switch and turned on the overhead lights. The bright light dispelled much of the room's suggestive atmosphere. Helena turned to Kenneth, choosing a decidedly unromantic topic. "Do you think Jerome had anything to do with the false accusations against you?" Though phrased as a question, there was a tone of certainty in her voice. Kenneth didn’t respond. Instead, he looked down at her with a cold, assessing gaze. “Mr. Langston—he’s still lingering around you, isn’t he?” Seeing she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed on bluntly, as if worried she might misunderstand his meaning. “If you’re truly interested in rekindling things with him, just say so. There’s no need to sneak around behind my back.” Kenneth was one of the few who knew about her past with Eric. His use of the word "rekindling" was laced with sarcasm. Helena couldn’t stand it anymore and snapped, “Kenneth, what’s gotten into you? Haven’t I played along enough with all your schemes?” Kenneth met her gaze, which was now blazing with anger, and seemed momentarily at a loss. After a couple of seconds, he responded in a low voice, “I just don’t want to be blindsided with a betrayal like tonight.” Thinking of Jerome’s earlier provocations, Helena took a deep breath, about to reassure Kenneth. But an inexplicable sensation began to rise within her—a warmth that felt like a spark, ready to spread like wildfire through her body. Sensing something was off, she looked up at Kenneth, only to find his face slightly flushed, his intense gaze fixed on her. In the depths of his eyes, there was a fierce, flickering heat as if a flame had been ignited and was burning wildly.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	323	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15543&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/t39.35426-6/466919986_534033072870870_7540673277837274692_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=leirMGrOFwYQ7kNvgEGxXf3&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYAj4lPERYSd-MoPmqlviTKliUabO9osyu5cNt0VUSTh8w&oe=67558752	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,927	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578928}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:04	active	1956	❤️😍 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/	1,425	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&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s65Bx1mGw-wQ7kNvgEy24Xf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYA3jwwvFehQvABLyzBoP1dNnQa3M5Hq-FuGoQEtOEK7aQ&oe=67556CB4	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,923	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578915}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:04	active	1956	🔞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/	1,587	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&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=vCrith3CWgUQ7kNvgHaT49O&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYDflbLvUyZHstvp1ksrIunv9wJ86P6-2xtRhlZf-AptCA&oe=67556AAD	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,925	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578928}'	No	2024-12-03 20:04	active	1956	❤️😍 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/	1,425	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&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s65Bx1mGw-wQ7kNvgEy24Xf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYA3jwwvFehQvABLyzBoP1dNnQa3M5Hq-FuGoQEtOEK7aQ&oe=67556CB4	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,578,924	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2578928}'	Yes	2024-12-03 20:04	active	1956	❤️😍 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/	1,425	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&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=s65Bx1mGw-wQ7kNvgEy24Xf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AEvwJbtm7RhNmIBJRPQW8Tn&oh=00_AYA3jwwvFehQvABLyzBoP1dNnQa3M5Hq-FuGoQEtOEK7aQ&oe=67556CB4	PERSON_PROFILE	Happyday	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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