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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
2,649,267	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649125}'	No	2024-12-24 18:26	active	2084	🔞HOT! HOT!Do not read in public！👉	My husband and mate, Elijah, is the Alpha of one of the most powerful packs in Fenrisa, the Iron Claw Pack. I am his wife and his mate. One would think that due to being fated, our relationship would be a good one. But that’s far from the truth. The truth is, I am his second chance mate. “Verena, I want to reject our bond and get separated,” Elijah’s voice doesn't hold an ounce of emotion as he sits across from me in the dim living room. I'd been waiting for him to celebrate our third wedding anniversary together. But when he arrived, there was this coldness about him. I figured he was just tired from work, but then he asked me to sit down and dropped a bombshell on me. "Why?" I blink in disbelief. He must be joking, right? But the intensity of his gaze chips away at my doubt, replacing it with a growing sense of worry. I know the reason. The one I've feared the most for so long. His mate has returned to the pack. Elijah’s first mate had left him just before the mating ceremony. The reason was unknown, but everyone assumed that she didn’t want a relationship with her mate and loved someone else. On the same day of their separation, Elijah found me and realized that I am his second chance mate. Second chance mates are rare, and it can be called a miracle that the Goddess gives Elijah a second chance in love by mating us. He hasn’t rejected his first mate, but one can find a second mate irrespective of rejecting their first mate. It's complicated and goes against the laws of the mate bond. Yet it's a blessing to the ones whose first mate dies or leaves them. Elijah sighs, “You know about Nixie. She wants to be back with me.” I clench my fist. “And you want to get back with her?” My lips quiver, and I struggle to stop my body from trembling, but it's futile. Despite being Elijah’s second chance, he’s my first. My first mate, the only love of my life. No matter who your second chance is, the bond with the first mate is stronger, like the first love that you can’t move on from. Elijah feels the same towards Nixie, I know, but can I simply accept it? His face remains aloof, “Nixie needs me, Verena. She is my mate and my wolf needs her.” His first mate returned a week ago, claiming that she was kidnapped by our enemy pack and taken hostage for three years. The pack that captured her was destroyed due to a pack war, and the hostages were released. That’s how Nixie escaped and returned to our pack. "I can’t have two mates at the same time. Having you both is putting a lot of pressure and weakening my wolf. Over time, it’ll get worse. So, I’ll have to reject one," he adds in a calm voice, while a storm is rising in my chest. "And you choose her," I reply, tears brimming in my eyes. I knew that Elijah hadn’t moved on from his first mate when I entered his life. But I had believed that I could heal him and show him that I can love him more. I did everything in my power to make him happy when we got married. Yet, she’s the one he chooses. What about us? The relationship we built for all these years, does it mean nothing to him? When I walked into his life, he was emotionally unavailable and rude to me. But I stayed patient and he gradually started to warm up to me. Since then we had worked together on everything and he promised to stay beside me forever. I know that I won’t be able to bear him a healthy child because I did not shift after I turned eighteen and it's been five years since I have been wolf-less. But I felt the mate bond when I saw Elijah at the Mating Ball. He also agreed to marry me because his pack needed a Luna and it was better to have a second chance mate than have no mate at all. “You said you'd never leave me. You promised me,” I remind him. “How can you break it because of someone who left you years ago?” His icy presence sends a chill through the room. "Rena, watch your words. Remember who you're speaking to," he warns, his tone sharp like a blade. "And do you expect me to overlook the fact that you intentionally drove Nixie away because you wanted to be with me?" My brows raise, “What are you talking about?” He stands from the couch, “You think I don’t know? Nixie returned to this pack just one year after our marriage and wanted to meet me. But you met her first and threatened her to not come close to me and disappear from the pack.” A shadow falls on his chiseled face, making him look deadly and dangerous. I have always admired his ruthless side, especially when he makes sure to punish anyone who tries to hurt me. But today, he’s giving me this look as if he’s disgusted by me. “Because of you, Nixie could not contact me and tell me what happened to her. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me. Just because of you.” He accuses me, and I feel like I have been stabbed in the chest. “I did not!” I say and he tilts his head as if he did not expect that response from me. As much as I want Elijah all to myself, I know that he feels empty without Nixie. So I would have accepted them being together, just for the sake of Elijah’s happiness. He raises a brow, “So you are not going to admit it?” “Admit what? I have no idea what you are talking about.” I protest. "Fine, I'll call him then," Elijah's obsidian eyes glaze over as he connects through the mind-link. Seconds later, the door swings open and Joshua walks inside. “What’s the matter?” He asks as he looks at both of us. He is Elijah’s Beta. “Rena denies that she had not tried to kick Nixie out of the pack when she returned two years ago. Is that true?” I look at Joshua expectantly. He will tell Elijah the truth. I relax a little, waiting for the truth to come out. But why do I have this bad feeling? “No, I saw her two years ago with the Luna,” Joshua replies calmly, with a subtle smile on his face. “The Luna did threaten her and tell her to leave the pack.” What?! “Joshua, what the hell are you saying?! I didn't even meet Nixie!” I rise from my seat in shock and look at him in disbelief. “Keep your voice low, Rena. Joshua is saying what he saw and I am surprised that you believed he’d lie for you. After all, he’s the one who showed me pictures of your encounter with my mate.” Elijah throws the pictures on the table and it feels like someone has pulled the rug off my feet. These are from a different time. They are manipulated. I look at the Beta who gives me a smirk. He betrayed me. I thought we were good friends but… My shoulders slump as I look at the floor. This can’t be happening. “Do you have any evidence that the Beta is lying?” Elijah asks. I don’t have an answer. My head spins, trying to process everything that has happened. “No,” I whisper. If I had known that he’ll betray me like this, I would have been more cautious. But why would he do this? For a few minutes, silence hangs heavy in the air until Elijah gently grasps my chin, coaxing me to meet his gaze. His inky black hair falls messily across his face, reminding me of its softness when I touched it before. “It's over, Rena. You knew how much I loved Nixie, yet you pushed her away from me. Then you pretended to love me when all you wanted was the power and wealth that comes with being my wife. I can’t let any of this slip away.” he says, his voice gentle but deep and chilling. Pretend to love him? After all these years, he thinks it was an act. I know I don’t have any evidence to prove my innocence, but won’t he try to believe me for once? I can’t help but wonder if he would have believed Nixie if she was in my shoes. He would have probably forgiven her, because mates tend to be possessive of their partners. But he won’t treat me like that, because according to him, I am just his second chance. I am nothing compared to his first true mate, his first love. Tears glisten in my eyes as pain grips my heart. "Elijah, I mean it. I don't care about the position. I just want you." He growls, baring his canines and his eyes flash, “I had enough. You should be grateful that I am not imprisoning you for doing something like this. So if you don’t want to live in the cells, I advise you to accept the divorce and the rejection.” He lets go of my chin and retrieves the divorce agreement. He slaps it onto the coffee table, making me flinch. "Sign it.” I stare at the papers with a bleeding heart. All the good memories I had with him flash in my head. What did all of those moments mean? Was it a lie when he said that I make him smile? That I am special to him? That our bond is no lesser than a first mate bond? I slowly bend forward, and grab the pen. I sign the paper while holding back my tears.“Here, it's done,” I whisper while holding the divorce agreement. For a brief moment, the iciness in his gaze melts, replaced by shock and hurt. But he swiftly regains his composure and accepts the paper from me. A sad smile curves my lips. So he would have gotten separated from me anyway. It did not matter what I did, he just needed a reason to reject me and have his mate back. “When is the rejection ceremony going to take place?” I ask while looking down at my trembling arms. If I see his face, I’m afraid I’ll break down completely. “Tomorrow. I expect you to be present at the training ground at eight in the morning. Once the rejection is over, you can stay at the packhouse. Though I’d prefer if you don’t come close to my mate. I don’t want you to cause a scene.” he replied and it hurts how he calls Nixie ‘my mate’. I rise from my seat and turn around, “Don’t worry, you won’t find me anywhere near you or Nixie after the rejection is over. That’ll be my gift to you. Happy Marriage Anniversary, Alpha Elijah.” Chapter 2 : Her, Nixie Verena It's alright. Things will get better. Elijah will change his mind, after all he loves me—- My trembling hand freezes halfway as I reach for the plate on the dining table. Tear droplets splatter on the polished darkwood, and the sight of our signatures on the divorce agreement brings me crashing back to reality. We're divorced, and tomorrow he will reject me. Not being able to pretend anymore, I break down into sobs. My fingers curl on the edge of the table while I look at the hardwood floor with tears streaming down my eyes. He really divorced me. My relationship with Elijah hasn’t been a bed of roses. When we married, he was cold and distant. But I started to witness the softer, emotional side of him that he tried to hide from the rest of the world. I made his pain my own, and tried my best to keep him happy. He was gradually warming up to me. But then Nixie returned and he pushed me away like those years of our relationship meant nothing to him. My chest squeezes painfully at the thought of it. I just can’t accept that he doesn't want me anymore. But the untouched food on the table, and the red velvet cake with Happy Third Marriage Anniversary written on it is a reminder that it's true. It took me almost four hours to bake this cake, in high hopes of seeing a smile on Elijah’s face when he returns. “Are you finished with your nonsense?” Maya, my maid’s voice, draws my attention to the door. She stands there with an annoyed expression, gesturing towards the wall. “Unlike you, I actually have work to do, like cleaning up this mess.” I wipe my face, and take a step back, “Yes, go ahead.” My voice sounds dry. Maya rolls her eyes, her lips curl in disapproval as she walks over and eyes the table. “Such a headache,” she mutters while shaking her head. Despite being Luna, I am not liked in the packhouse. It's because I am an orphan who did not shift. Even an omega has a wolf, so it makes me appear way beneath in rank. So the people don’t approve of me as their Queen. Someone without a wolf can’t lead a pack of wolves. That’s what I have always been told. I have learned to live with it because that is how I have always been treated. And forcing people to like me through fear of my position goes beyond my values, so I try to make up for my weakness by putting my best efforts. But Elijah has punished anyone who has tried to misbehave with me, always taking my side when things went down. He was very protective of me. Was. I wonder if he believes now Nixie will be a better Luna than me because of having a wolf. She comes from a family of Gammas, so she has a strong wolf and anyone will choose her over me. Rip! My body jolts at the sudden sound of something being torn off, and I notice Maya ruthlessly tearing the fairy lights and red balloons off the wall behind the table. With each delicate adornment being stripped away, I feel a prick in my chest. My friends Dory and Drake helped me set up the decorations last night, and we were so proud of it. Maya does not hold back on the food either, and I flinch at the way she just dumps the cake into the dustbin. I feel like that cake, dumped into trash. My head feels dizzy at the overwhelming emotions. I need a shower. I walk out of the dining hall, and my legs feel heavy for some reason. Now that I think about it, I've been feeling quite sick since this morning. My throat itches, I feel nauseous, and I've been unusually tired lately. Maybe it's because of Elijah. Not paying any attention to my surroundings, my hand subconsciously reaches to open the door to the bedroom. But the moment the door swings back, a pleasant musky scent hits my nose. There’s another scent with it that makes my nose crinkle. My body freezes in place when I notice Elijah sitting on the bed. With Nixie on his lap. With brown hair that brushes her shoulders in curls and a floral print mini skirt riding up her slender, milky white thighs, Nixie looks like any man’s wet dream. Compared to her, I look basic in my plain blue dress and straight midnight blue hair. They seem to be having a moment as her arms are wrapped around his neck, while his hand is on her slim waist. Elijah notices my presence, “Rena,” he takes my name with his deep, velvety voice that tugs at my heart and lets go of Nixie’s waist. Nixie gets off his lap and stands beside him, fixing her skirt. “Oh my Goddess, Rena. I-I didn’t know you would be coming,” her pale skin turns red as if she’s embarrassed. Even when I don’t have a wolf, I can still feel the sting of their intimacy. My heart pounds painfully in my chest. “Rena, why are you here?” Elijah asks, staring at me with his cold obsidian eyes. I can’t tell what he is thinking. Chapter 3 : He, with Her Verena “I…um…” the words feel stuck in my throat. My legs feel weak. I can’t believe he started to get so intimate with her after a few hours of our divorce. If he’s this affectionate with her, then it means that he has already moved on. Though maybe he did not need to move on in the first place. “Rena?” He takes my name again, and I regain my composure. I need to get a hold on myself. He’s no longer my husband, and soon he’ll reject me from the mate bond. So I shouldn’t be feeling anything. “Did I interrupt something?” I ask, my gaze sliding to Nixie who stares at me with her big doe green eyes. Anyone would fall for the innocence those eyes portray, but I can see the malice behind it. Elijah narrows his gaze, and places a hand over his mouth. He does that when he’s curious, and annoyed. “You did,” he replies sharply, and I'm struck by his words. “I–” “Rena, you should remember that you need to ask for the Alpha’s permission before entering his room.” My lips part in shock, and my brows lift. “What?” “You heard me. Still, I’d let this go because we aren’t officially rejected and you are my mate.” His voice puts me in an icy chokehold. Just a few hours, and our relationship has completely changed. Where is the man who waited for me every single night in bed to fall asleep together? Who is he? “Wow, I did not know that it was your room now, Alpha. The same room we shared for three years,” I retort, crossing my arms. My eyes flit to the bed where he was sitting with Nixie on his lap. His jaw clenches at my words. “We are divorced now. So isn’t it obvious that we won’t be sharing the same room anymore?” He tilts his head, gauging my reaction. I smirk, “Sure. I mean, you won’t like me barging into your ‘room’ while you spend some quality time with your mate,” I emphasize the last word and my gaze shifts to Nixie. “Rena, before you say something to insult Nixie, I’ll warn you. I have been lenient with you, but I won’t this time. So choose your words wisely.” He speaks in a low, commanding voice, reminding me of who’s in charge. His words crush my soul. It's as if I am the problem in his life. “Elijah, it's alright,” Nixie moves closer to him, and slides her hand over his shoulder. “I can understand that she’s hurt so I am fine with it.” A growl leaves my lips as I stare at her hand placement. Elijah raises a brow, and I realize what I have done. He’s still my mate, and it's not easy for me to watch someone else touch him, even if that person is his first mate. “I–I am sorry if I made you upset, Rena,” Nixie looks at me with quivering lips, “But you have to understand that I love him and can’t stay away from him.” Tears fill her eyes, and she starts to sob. “Nixie, don’t cry. It's not your fault,” Elijah gets up, and wraps an arm around her. My insides scream at that sight, but I don’t let a word out of my mouth. I silently watch him comfort her when I am the one in need of comfort. “Rena and I have come to a mutual agreement, so it's our decision.” I scowl. It was never my decision to get separated from him. Elijah looks at me with a pointed look, “You did not tell me why you are here.” His voice is gentle as always, but I can tell that he does not want me here. He feels that I will sabotage his relationship with Nixie. My jaw trembles, “It's nothing. I am sorry for interrupting whatever you both were doing,” I storm out of the door while the tears trickle down my eyes. The paintings and furniture on the hallway start to look unfamiliar as I rush past them. Why? Why do I have to go through this? My head starts to throb, and I stop in my steps. I feel dizzy. The nausea grows, crawling up my chest and through my blurry vision, I see two figures on the other side of the hall. They look concerned as they walk towards me. “Luna, are you alright?” I recognize the voice. It's Dory, “You look no well—” I don’t hear the rest of her sentence as the air shifts, and I grace the floor. Shadows dance in my vision before everything turns dark. Beep. Beep. My eyes flutter open on hearing a sound, and I find myself in a hospital bed. A dull ache throbs in my head. “She’s awake,” I feel Dory’s warm hand on my back as I slowly get up. She helps me sit. “Thank Goddess!” Drake exclaims as he stands beside her. They are twins, and work for me in the pack. I groan, feeling the same throbbing sensation. “I passed out?” “Yeah. We brought you to the hospital as soon as possible. Are you okay now?” Drake asks. I nod, “Yeah.” The door opens, and a woman walks in wearing a white coat and holding a clipboard. "Oh, you're awake. That's good," she says with a smile as she approaches me. My gaze falls onto the tag on her coat. Dr. Shalini, Senior Gynaecologist. “Is it an infection?” I ask. Her smile widens, “No, Luna. I have good news for you. I hope that the Alpha throws us a party after this.” she says and my frown deepens. My gaze shifts to Drake and Dory. Drake shrugs while Dory shakes her head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Congratulations, my Luna. You are going to be a mother.” she replies. Chapter 4 : A Baby? Verena The world seems to stop as I hear what she said. I am…carrying a baby now? “What?” I gasp. The woman nods, her eyes glinting with excitement. “Yes, Luna. I ran a USG scan, and it shows the pregnancy.” Dory shrieks, “Oh my Goddess! That's wonderful news.” She grins at me, and hugs Drake, who is taken aback by her sister’s excitement. The doctor looks at my confused expression and asks, “Is everything alright?” I stare at my lap. How can I be? Drake senses my confusion and turns to the doctor, “Can we have some time alone with her? We’ll call you if we need anything. Thank you for the news, doc.” “Um, alright,” she says hesitantly, giving me one last glance before walking out of the room. Dory senses the change in mood and asks me, “What’s wrong, Luna?” “I think I understand why she is confused,” Drake answers, and Dory looks at him. “We all know that Luna does not have a wolf.” Dory’s brows shoot up in realization. “Oh my, that’s right. Then, how?” She looks at me, the colors of excitement on her face completely gone. A she-wolf who did not shift can’t bear another male wolf’s child, let alone that of an Alpha’s child. Our genetics act like one of a normal human, and we are not compatible with carrying a shifter’s child. So how can I having a baby? “We should get the report checked or tell them to run another test on you. The report can be wrong,” Drake says in a calm voice. He is always calm in these situations and looks at every problem through a logical perspective. As advised by Drake, I undergo another USG scan to confirm if the report is accurate or not. Dory insists that I get some rest, so I return to the packhouse after the test is over. She promises to bring me the test report, so I anxiously wait for her in one of my spare rooms. When the second test report arrives, my eyes stay glued to the report file, my hands trembling. Test result—positive. Sweet tears blur my vision. I can’t believe this. “It's really true, Luna. You are with child,” Dory remarks with a huge smile plastered on her face. My hand reaches to my belly. There is a life growing inside me. When I had not shifted after my 18th birthday, I had lost all hope of conceiving. Elijah was unhappy about my barren state, and it was another reason for him to act cold towards me in the initial stages of our marriage. An Alpha needs an heir, and I was incapable of providing one. “But how is this possible? I never shifted,” I mutter. “I have a theory in my mind,” Dory replies as she stands before me with her hands crossed. I look up from the file, and a thoughtful look darkens her eyes, “There have been a few cases where the shifter did not transform at the right age because their wolf was still in a developmental phase.” I raise a brow, “Developmental phase?” She hums, “Most wolves start to develop in our bodies from the time of our birth. The average age for any healthy transformation is from eighteen to nineteen. Usually, after that time, no shifter ever transforms, meaning their wolf could not grow properly because of the lack of strength in the person’s body. But there was this one case study in the Moonlight Pack where the Alpha got his wolf at the age of twenty-six. Rumor has it that his predecessors also got their wolves late.” “So it's in the bloodline?” I ask, rubbing my belly, “Isn’t the Moonlight Pack Alpha a powerful one who has magical powers?” She nods, “That’s what everyone says. But recently, no one has seen the Alpha around, and some say that it's just baseless rumors. If he truly had magical powers, then he would have shown them, but there’s no incident as such. He’s been a mystery for the last ten years.” I hum in agreement. It's hard to tell what my condition is, but I don’t care. If Elijah learns about this, I am sure he’ll annul the divorce. He can’t reject me after knowing that I have his baby. It will put the child’s life at risk. I need to tell him. He has to change his mind after this. He can’t get separated from me if he knows that I am carrying his future heir. I get up from the bed and tell Dory, “I’ll show this to the Alpha.” Not wasting another second, I am rushing out of the guestroom. Thank Selene! She has blessed me with a child. She believes that Elijah and I are meant to be together. A smile curves my lips. The moment I reach his office, I knock the door twice with my knuckles while excitement bubbles through me. I hear his deep voice through the door, “Come in.” I step in, feeling a little nervous as I find him sitting on his office chair, wearing his blue-light glasses with a white rim. They frame his obsidian eyes that scrutinize me. He looks so handsome in them. But then my gaze falls on Nixie, whose arm rests on his shoulder. She is way too close to him, and frowns when she notices me. It's not hard to see the malicious look in her eyes. Once I settle things with Elijah, I’ll make sure she never gets a chance to come close to him. “What brings you here, Rena?” Elijah asks, shifting his gaze to his computer screen. I am about to respond when he says, “I hope it's not ‘nothing’ like last time. You should know that I am a busy person, and my time has value." He speaks in a frosty demeanor that reminds me of winter. “I am carrying your baby, Elijah,” I say, hoping that the news will shock him. He has always been looking forward to having an heir. Now his wish has come true. Chapter 5: Will He Be Back? Verena His gaze lifts from the display screen and darkens with disappointment, “Is this your new trick to get me back?” he retorts, and the corner of Nixie’s lips curls into a smirk. I blink in confusion. Trick? “Why–why would I trick you with something like this?” His jaw clenches, and the air turns cold with his icy gaze, “You tell me, Rena. You want me to believe that without having a wolf, you can carry the child of an Alpha?” I flinch at his words. I am not proud of my condition. But it's out of my control. “I know it's hard to believe. I did not believe it either. That’s why I ran two tests to confirm the report. I am really carrying a baby.” I take a step towards his desk and hand him the file. He flips through it, his eyes going over the report. Nixie leans in to also check, and her face turns pale. It makes me a little happy. This child will be the one to save our relationship and this pack. “I get it now,” he says, staring at the table in thought, and I breathe in relief. “You went to Shadow Den after the divorce for this reason. To create a fake pregnancy report.” He adds, and suddenly it feels like I have been punched in the gut. “What?! What are you talking about?” I ask, my eyes wide in horror. Shadow Den is a shady place at the borders of the pack where all kinds of illegal activities take place, including creating fake documents. A dignified lady will never step into that place because it reeks of crime and rogue trafficking. “I told my men to keep an eye on you, and they reported that you went to Shadow Den. At first, I couldn’t believe it and punished them for lying to me. But now it seems that they were telling me the truth.” The look Elijah gives me completely shatters my soul. It feels like the respect he had for me is broken now. I shake my head frantically, “No! I did not go there, Elijah. Please trust me!” He scoffs, his eyes swirling with hurt. “How can I trust you when you are doing things behind my back? You know how much I have desired a child. It pains me to think you have gone this far.” “That’s not true. I will never do something like this, you know that,” The corner of my eyes prick. How can he believe that I will fake childbirth? “I can prove myself this time. Call the hospital and ask if I had done a test there or not.” I raise my voice, holding my ground as much as I can. Elijah dials the number on his phone. He puts it on the loudspeaker and places it on the desk for me to hear. With each ring, my heart beats with anticipation. This has to work. The clinic keeps records of their patients. “Larsen's Clinic speaking. How may I help you, Alpha?” The female receptionist’s voice comes from the receiving end. Elijah places his hands on the desk and asks, “Is there any record of my wife Verena Donovan getting a USG test done today at your clinic?” “Give me a second please, Alpha,” the receptionist answers politely. Patient records are confidential, but since it's the Alpha asking for information, the hospital has to obey his orders. I fidget, waiting for her to confirm it. Each second feels like an hour, making me grow nervous. Her voice finally comes through, “There’s no record of her checking in our clinic today, Alpha.” My heart drops, and for a second I forget how to breathe. No, this can’t be possible. I was there. They saw me. Then, why? Elijah hangs up the phone. Nixie’s eyes glint with victory as she stares at me. The walls around the office feel like they are closing in on me. Why did the clinic lie? Is someone else behind this? My gaze shifts to Nixie, who has a smug look on her face. It is strange how she has been so silent and did not try to stop me from showing the reports. He sighs and takes off his glasses. “Rena, look. Your excuses are not going to work on me. This rejection is going to happen because as an Alpha, I have to be with my rightful mate.” He rises from the chair and approaches me. Standing close to me, he adds “And I am letting you stay here. I won’t banish you from the pack, so you don’t have to use these cheap tricks.” Cheap tricks? My hand goes to my belly. The man I have spent my life with for three years did not try to believe me for once. This proves that he never trusted me in all these years, and I thought that we had a good relationship—one that was built out of mutual love and respect. It was all in my head. “This is the extent of my kindness, Rena,” Elijah adds, “Don’t test my patience any further.” I don’t need his kindness. The only thing I wanted from him was to take my side, to have faith in me. But he pushed it all away. I decide to leave silently and walk towards the door. When I grab the handle with my shaking hand, his voice stops me. “Rena.” I look over my shoulder and find him staring at me. There is something in his gaze. “I hope you remember the time of the rejection ceremony tomorrow. Don’t try to bail on me because then I’ll have to force you to join me at the training grounds.” My chest tightens at the lack of empathy in his voice. “I won’t,” I hold back the tears that threaten to fall by clenching the doorknob tightly. He wants to get rid of me so badly. But I am worried about my child. I can only pray to have the strength to protect my baby from his rejection. Chapter 6 : Love’s Not Enough Verena “So, when is the Alpha throwing us a party?” Dory asks as she walks into my room with a cheerful smile. She does not know. The only thing she knows is that I went to Elijah to tell him the good news. “You definitely have to tell me the names you are deciding on, especially if it's a girl. I don’t want our princess to have a terrible name like mine. Also I–” “We are going to have a rejection ceremony today,” I say with a grim expression. Dory blinks a few times, “What? That’s such a bad joke.” My lips curve in a sad smile while I sit on the armchair, “It's not.” The girl’s smile drops, “No, that’s not possible.” My gaze dips to the jar she’s holding in her hand, “Did you bring the herbs I asked you to?” Her brows pucker, “Yeah, I did. But the herbs you asked for are used to protect an unborn from any strong supernatural forces. Why would you ask for something like—” her lips stop moving as her eyes light up with realization. There are certain herbs that protect an unborn child in the womb of a mother who gets rejected from her mate. I told her to bring one of those so that no harm comes to my baby. She stays still for a few seconds, “What? I– Are you really getting rejected?” I answer her with my silence. She stands still, as if processing everything. “The Alpha...he’s behind this, isn’t he?” she grits her teeth. “I should have known it. Something felt off about you staying in this room, and looking so pale.” She clenches her fist. I slowly rise from my armchair, “Dory, calm down.” “No for this case!” she slams the jar into the bedside, and stomps out of the room. Crap! I run up to her. She’s going to argue with Elijah. Stepping out of the room, I get hold of her wrist, and stop her, “Stop! Don’t do it.” She whips her head at me, rage burning like coal in her eyes, “Luna, I respect you. But I can’t accept this. How can he do this to you? I’ll go and knock some sense into him!” “No, no, no.” I pull her back. She is acting like a dog who has gone feral, and needs to be kept on a leash. Most of the time she is calm and rational. But when it comes to the people she cares for, she becomes hot-headed and does something regretful. If she talks back to Elijah, she can be put into the cells or even banished. “Calm down. This decision is mutual,” I say, and she freezes. She turns to me with a face as if lightning has struck her. “What about the child? How can you get separated when the future heir of this pack is growing inside you?” She points at my belly and I place my palm on it. Despite what the clinic said, I believe that a life is growing inside me. I can feel it in my bones. But I don’t want to tell Dory everything. She does not need to be involved in my problems. "It's because of the new girl who joined the pack, isn’t it?” Dory asks suddenly, and I jerk my head up at her, my heart skipping a beat. I did not expect her to catch on to it so quickly. She notices my face, “You don’t need to worry about her, Luna. I’ll teach her a lesson that she’ll run out of the borders of this pack and never look back,” she says with determination. I sigh. This girl has no sense of danger. “You’ll do nothing like that. Promise me.” She frowns, “But—” “I said what I said. Don’t argue with your Luna,” I will be ex-Luna soon but there is time left for the rejection ceremony. So I will use my authority to make sure Dory does not put herself in danger. Her shoulders sag, and she reluctantly nods. “But why are you not doing anything? Will you let another girl just take everything from you?” Her words prick me. I did try, but when Elijah wants me to step out of his life, then there is nothing I can do. Even our child could not save our relationship because he does not even believe in its existence. “It's pointless. Also, it's better to end things. Our marriage was like an agreement and since he has no use for me now, the agreement has ended.” It was a mistake. If I had known that I would be treated like this after the return of his fated mate, I would have never agreed to this marriage. Second chance mates after all are…second choice, not first. “But Luna…” She steps closer to me, her brown eyes staring at me, “You love him, more than your own life. I know you.” Her words squeeze my chest tightly and warm tears cover my vision. She has seen how much dedicated I have been to Elijah. I blink to push my tears back, and amidst the silence of the gloomy morning my words come out like a sad symphony, “My love is not enough.” A tear slips down my left eye. Dory's eyes glisten with pain as she wraps her arms around me in a gentle embrace. The warmth of her act stirs something inside me, and I break down into sobs. Now that she's here, I realize how much I needed someone's presence to share my sorrow. With no parents or many friends whom I can trust to open up to, given my focus on work and Elijah, her presence feels like a cool shade after hours of walking in scorching heat. "I am so sorry this is happening to you. If the Alpha can't see how much you have sacrificed for him, then he does not deserve you!" she cries, and I hug her tighter. It brings me some relief knowing that there's someone for me. "Don't worry sweetheart, it's okay. I can make it." I pat Dory on the back. "Later I'll go to Elijah's room and get my stuff back, they must not want to see me in this house, and neither do I.” Chapter 7: Shattered Expectations An hour later, I step inside Elijah’s bedroom to get all my stuff. The walls of the room make me suffocated as it reminds me of the times we have spent here. Brushing those thoughts away, I focus on my task at hand. There is no point in staying in this packhouse so I’ll pack my things and leave. The money I have saved from my stock investments will get me to stay for six months in a five-star hotel. I will use that time to find a job. Since I have always been focused on my duties as the Luna of this pack, I never got the time to pursue anything else, especially my dream to open a bakery. Now that I no longer have any duties towards the pack, I can focus on my dream and have a bakery shop of my own. Feeling a little energetic from the idea, I start to pull out all my accessories from the drawer when my eyes fall on a photo frame. Bright blue sky, palm trees and sand fill the background before which stands a couple smiling at me. The lady’s cheeks are pink, and the shine in her eyes is unavoidable as her man has his arm wrapped around her waist. “Haha! You can’t catch me!” I scream as I run across the sand, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the cool breeze tangling my hair. Elijah has a challenging look on his face as he chases me, but there’s a subtle smile on his handsome sun-kissed face. Before I know it, his strong arms grab me from behind, “Looks like I won,” I gasp as he gently lifts me off my feet, my heart fluttering in my chest. With a playful smile, he swings me around. Our laughter mixes and rings in the air, the world fading away as we get lost into the moment. My hand trembles as I run my palm over the picture in the photo frame. Those were some of our best moments, filled with joy and sweetness. Our relationship wasn’t one of love, but he was slowly warming up to me. "Oh, looks like there is a thief in here," Nixie's voice startles me as I find her standing inside the room. "How dare you try to steal my things?" she accuses me with her arms crossed. I look at the clothes that I am holding. "These are my things." She scoffs, "No more. Whatever you had before, it all belongs to me now. Including Elijah." Her words cut deep, and she smiles in satisfaction, enjoying the effect her words have on me. Her eyes lower to my hand, zeroing in on the ring I am wearing. I look at the diamond ring. It's a very special ring to me as Elijah gifted it to me on my birthday. "This ring will protect you from everything and my heart is in it. I give it to you," He said when he slid it onto my index finger. It's a rare diamond that can't be bought with money. "Hand over that ring right now," Nixie says, her eyes beaming with greed. I take a step back, holding my hand. "No." This ring means a lot to me. Even if I am separated from Elijah, I still want to keep a part of him with me forever. “I won’t say it again. Give it to me; it's my order! Your Luna’s order,” she shouts. “You'll never be my Luna. And I'm not giving this to you,” I reply confidently. “How dare you!” she grabs my wrist forcefully, and I yelp as a sharp pain shoots through my finger to my spine as she pulls the ring out of me forcefully. “Give it to me or I’ll cut your fingers off, you useless lowly beast!” she yells. Instinctively, I push her away with my other hand, and she stumbles back onto someone’s chest. My eyes go round when I see Elijah holding her from behind. His eyes are as cold as the Arctic, freezing me in my spot. “What is happening here?” “E-elijah,” Nixie starts crying, and wraps her arms around his neck, “I–” she sniffs, “I was only asking her how costly the ring is and she pushed me away.” She sobs like a baby. “That’s not true. She was trying to take the ring from me!” I protest. “So what if she did?” he asks, his face like a carved stone with no emotions. I stare at him, trying to process what he said for a moment. “I told her that she can have the ring when she asked me about it.” My eyes widen in disbelief, unblinking as they stare at him. Time stands still. I can’t believe what he is saying. “Hand over the ring to her, Rena,” he demands in a frosty voice. My feet feel glued to the floor. Nixie’s lips curl in a smile as she watches me in despair. The room closes around me, suffocating me with the weight of its shattered expectations. My lips curve upwards, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. It's devoid of any joy and is a mask to hide the emptiness within. Why did I even hope that he’ll care for me? Stupid, stupid me. I walk towards them and pull out the ring from my finger. “Here, take it,” I say while the smile remains intact. “You can have everything else here too. I don’t want it anymore.” It's exhausting to keep hoping that things will change, that he’ll take me back. Those are my last words, and I walk out of the room, accepting my defeat. Nixie wins, I lose. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my wrist from behind and hear Elijah’s voice, “Rena.” I freeze. His voice is so gentle. My heart pounds in my chest, and I look past my shoulder to meet his black eyes. “The rejection ceremony is going to start soon. I’ll wait for you at the training grounds.” Chapter 8 : The Rejection Verena I smile, while my heart breaks in pain. He is so good at crushing my heart, like it's an object. “I will be there in time.” Saying that, I pull my hand away from him, engraving his touch for the last time in my head. A while later, I look at my reflection in the mirror. Dark eye bags hang under my green eyes, like someone has sucked the soul out of me. Only half an hour left before the ceremony begins, and after that, I will be separated from Elijah completely. I have mentally prepared myself for it, but physically, I am in a mess. Nixie took all my clothes and accessories, even the ones I bought myself. I am not that interested in fashion, so most of my clothes and jewelry were gifted by Elijah. So now, I have nothing to wear except this dress that I have on. My hands tremble a little in concern. Without anything, it will be hard for me to survive. But then I remind myself that I will be a mother soon. Stress is not good for the baby. I rub my belly, “Mamma promises to be strong from now on. You hang in there, pup.” I will need to dip into some of my savings to purchase new clothes and other necessities. But first, I must find a good hotel to stay in. My thoughts are interrupted by the loud sound of footsteps, and my face sours when I see Nixie walk in through the door, looking very chirpy. Now, what does she want? "Why are you here?" I ask in frustration, deciding not to turn around and act as though I am busy. Searching for hotels will be a better use of my time. I feel her close in, and she waves her hand before my face from behind. My gaze falls on the diamond ring on her finger, the ring I thought Elijah had gifted me as a sign of his love. My heart crumbles at the sight of it. "It suits me more than you, doesn't it? Elijah said that it looks better on me," she giggles, adding salt to my wound. I intentionally stay silent and focus on scrolling through a site that shows the various hotels available with their ratings and reviews. "Hello? I am talking to you!" she waves her hand again, clearly annoyed by not receiving her expected response. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, so I continue to avoid her. There's a groan from behind before she slaps my phone away, causing it to hit the hard, hardwood floor. I gasp at its state and immediately pick it up. The screen has cracked. "Now, that's a proper reaction," she says, smirking. Clenching my jaw, I face her. "What’s your problem, you mad woman?! I have divorced Elijah, and we are rejecting each other. That should be more than enough for you!" She sneers at me. "Don't act like you're doing me a favor. Actually, I'll do you a favor. Once you're rejected, I'll make sure you get banished after that." My face drains of all colors. Banishment? No! If I'm banished, I'll become a rogue with nowhere to live and no means to survive. That's assuming I don't get hurt by the dangerous creatures outside the borders or get captured by rogue traffickers who might sell me to some nasty, old Alpha as a slave first. I can't let my child be born in those circumstances. "Why? I'll leave this packhouse after rejection, so I won't be a threat to you anymore," I protest. She scowls. "Of course you are. I don't know what Elijah saw in you, but he seems to still care about you. He was telling me to return your clothes since he gave them to you," she rolls her eyes, "And he won't allow me to turn you into a slave for this packhouse either. So it means you're a threat to my position." I gulp, feeling a little relieved knowing that Elijah said that. But it's quickly replaced by Nixie's warning. "Be prepared to be kicked out. See you in the training grounds," she waves her hand and walks away humming a tune. My legs give out, and I collapse to the floor. My fingers curl around the bedsheet for support as I try to calm the crumbling anxiety inside me. What do I do now? I can't become a rogue. Dory walks in, her eyes falling on me. "Luna, are you okay?" she rushes up to me and helps me stand. She touches my forehead. "You're burning up. Did something happen?" I shake my head. "I'm fine. Is it time?" Her face falls, and she nods once. Taking a deep breath, I gather some courage. "Alright, let's go." Chapter 9 : Rejection I have to fight this. If Nixie wins, my pup will be in danger. I won't let that happen. We walk down the stairs and step outside. The sky is filled with gray clouds. On the large training grounds where the air usually buzzes with excitement and the energy of warriors, there's a damp, silent atmosphere among the people who came to watch the ceremony. None of them seem sad to watch me get rejected. They've never wanted me as their Luna because I'm an orphan. I take my place in the center of the ground. The people on the left clear a path for Elijah to walk through by standing in two rows, and he stops before the space created for the ceremony. Our eyes meet for a few seconds before he turns to the crowd. “I won’t waste time on explaining what’s happening here as most of you present are already aware. But know that I won’t tolerate anyone breaking the rules. If anyone dares to say a bad word to Verena or insults her in any way, I will have your head. Rejected or not, she is still a respected member of our family and this pack. So you all are expected to treat her fairly. Is that clear?” The people nod in unison, fearing Elijah’s wrath. A part of me is glad that he is rejecting me in a respectful manner. It would have hurt a lot more if he just allowed anyone to publicly berate me, especially when I go through the rejection. Elijah walks closer to me, and looks into my eyes. I feel his breathing was a little erratic and his face didn't look quite right.. Is he drunk? "I, Elijah Donovan, Alpha of the Iron Claw Pack, reject you, Verena, as my fated mate and my Luna," he declares. I close my eyes, attempting to block out the pain threatening to consume me. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, I feel the strength of the rejection, as it threatens to tear my body apart. The pain rattles through my bones, clogging my nostrils and leaving me breathless. Elijah extends his arm to help me, but I take a step back. I will endure this pain alone. "I, Verena, current Luna of the Iron Claw Pack, accept your rejection, Alpha Elijah," I declare. My legs wobble beneath my dress as the ache in my chest intensifies. I feel a strong convulsion in my belly, causing me to lose my balance and drop to the ground, clutching my stomach. My baby! "Rena, are you alright?" Elijah inquires, but I know better than to believe that he actually cares for me. Gradually, the pain subsides, and I feel the herbs taking action to protect my baby from the effects of the rejection. "I am fine," I manage to say, wiping my tear-soaked face. "You accepted it," he mutters under his breath. Was he not expecting it? I don’t even understand him at this point. My limbs feel weak, so I remain in my place, trying to prevent myself from passing out. Just as I begin to feel like I have regained some control over my body, a strong scent hits my nose. It smells like lemons and grass, reminiscent of summer. I glance in the direction from which it's coming and spot a man walking into the crowd, looking around anxiously. He’s as tall as Elijah, broad and well-built, with spiky light-blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a tattoo running down his left arm. His aura is powerful, like that of an Alpha. The moment his eyes land on me, he growls ferociously, his wolf showing in his eyes, "Mine!"	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&u	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,776	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO	https://wwwedb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=16560&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/t39.35426-6/470211616_1089749272699128_268792006170706946_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=C4PJJSRRq2kQ7kNvgHlWNUN&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoH-ajCER0YCg6Tq4085nZJ&oh=00_AYDzIJMxNcAeOWVfQ_9jfwoRla1PyKrxCN9bKyvsjos48Q&oe=67711D9C	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,273	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-24 18:26	active	2084	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	I wondered am I going to die? "Answer me, why you can't smell my presence?" The threatening aura of an Alpha wraps around me. My body shivers, I am so nervous that my throat get tied up. Earlier this morning, my ex-mate Beta Kyle had ordered me to clean my brother Alpha Trey's office before Trey heads back as they are to have an important guest today. Before he left he hit me to the ground and spat on me saying I was a stupid wolf and how right he was to have rejected me as I was nothing but a damned sinner. Slowly I picked myself up from the ground and started to cry only to be interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind. This tall man caught me in surprise but he was more surprised when he found out I didn't notice his strong presence. As his eyes bore into mine, I averted his intimidating gaze and lowered my head. I can't tell him why I couldn't smell an Alpha. I can't tell him what my brother has done to me - how he made me his slave when I was 6 and tortured me even till now. "I...just can't." I said trembly. Trey would beat me to death if he ever found I spoke ill of him in front of his guest. Not to mention, the man in front of me could be THE guest Trey has been fawning about for months- Alpha Dane, King of the largest pack in the world. Trey needed Alpha Dane's help, that's weird as our pack never suffered from outside attack, why would we need help? Of course I was not told of it. Anyway, Trey wanted to conclude a contract with Dane, which promised anything Trey can offer. Does anything include women? Rumor has it that Alpha Dane was a demon who has killed all his 9 ex-wives... “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” The tall man takes a swig from his drink. "My ... wolf abilities were bound." I muttered out of fear that he might hit me too. Twice, actually, Trey bound my wolf abilities so that I had no strength to fight against him or run away. There’s a twitch in his cheek. Was he angry to hear of such a punishment? Or maybe, just like the others, he was amused by it. I couldn’t tell. "Who did this to you?" The man then asked, his eyes lingering on my whole body up and down. Did he smell the wounds hidden behind my clothes? "You smelled strange." He reached out to my face, I was about to run when the office door swung open. "Neah, What the heck are you doing in my office?" My brother angrily walked in, his eyes turned crimson red, “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap,it was indeed him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the usual burn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through the room. Peeking through slits, I see Alpha Dane has risen to his feet, his hand coiled around my brother's wrist. He was taller than my brother, more muscly too. “Neah,” My name rolls off of his tongue, “was kindly showing me to your office, Alpha Trey, as you failed to meet me at the front of your house like I requested. I was lucky someone was present, at least someone understands the importance of this deal.” What? I had no idea what he was talking about. And he had no reason to lie for me. My brother glares at me, clenching his jaw tight. I was going to pay for this later. I would have to try and steal some food. “Go and get Beta Kyle.” Alpha Trey seethes. “Tell him that our guest is here.” I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. “Beta Kyle,” I whisper as I enter the dining hall. He instantly glares at me with his dark eyes. I had spoken without being spoken to. “Alpha Trey is in the office with Alpha Dane. I was sent to inform you.” He slams the newspaper down on the table and glares at me as he walks by. “You’re lucky that the Alpha sent you to get me, otherwise you wouldn't be seeing sunlight for a few days.” Pausing behind me, he yanks my head back, locking his fingers in my hair, leaning in close to me, I feel his hot breath on my skin. He doesn’t speak, it was just his way of proving that he could do what he wants when he wants. I try to keep myself busy so I can stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace doesn’t last long when I hear my brother calling out to me. Quietly, I pad towards the office and plaster a smile on my face as I open the door. “Neah, go get the champagne and some glasses, we are celebrating.” I bow my head and hurry to the drinks cabinet. Quickly finding what my brother has asked for. As I re-enter the office, I can feel Alpha Dane watching my every move, even the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. No one ever watches me this closely. Approaching the small table by Alpha Danes chair, I start to fill the glasses. He takes the champagne bottle from me, telling me he is more than capable of filling his own glass. I feel my cheeks flame, not from embarrassment, but because I knew that I would be punished for this. I should have been quicker. I should have filled the glasses before entering the office. I should have…. My brain freezes when I see my brother glaring at me. “Neah is your sister, correct?” Alpha Dane questions my brother. “She is.” Alpha Trey mutters with disgust. He looks away from me to focus on the man asking questions. “Why do you treat her like vermin?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. He only liked sharing information on his terms. No one had spoken to my brother about his treatment of me because everyone took great joy in beating me. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t move but I knew I had to get out of there. If this deal goes to pot because of me, then that would be my fault too. “I am afraid it's my family business, not sure why you would care.” Alpha Trey said in a little offended tone. "About the contract we are signing, I want to add another item." Alpha Dane stared at me for a while before he continued,"I want to take her with me." I looked up, eyes filled with the same incredulity in Trey's. "Why do you want a useless wolf like her? " Trey was surprised, angry as well. "I want her to be my tenth bride." Alpha Dane pointed at me, yet there was not the slightest emotion in his eyes, as if I were just a object. I couldn't believe the words he just uttered. "Why? You want a murderer to be your bride?" Trey spat. I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. "Murdered whom?" "Our parents! That little brat killed our parents when she was 6!" Trey snarled.	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,776	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/t39.35426-6/468861305_1082343766718684_3636329492503235384_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=cSOuYpoaCN0Q7kNvgF12_bX&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoH-ajCER0YCg6Tq4085nZJ&oh=00_AYAijkKgTMaJyxxhNSlnmztfO0MawndZHl_5XST9cIqPaQ&oe=67712406	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,312	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649284}'	No	2024-12-24 18:28	active	2084	😍Read the next chapters👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	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2,649,314	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649284}'	Yes	2024-12-24 18:28	active	2084	😍Read the next chapters👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	327	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hIedMgEWAFAQ7kNvgG30FAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoH-ajCER0YCg6Tq4085nZJ&oh=00_AYBI45ipAk3JJVP_uAqTKd6o4qrUcFrIKVwp_FALMKoDgQ&oe=67712C4C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,342	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649270}'	No	2024-12-24 18:29	active	2084	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！	高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」「半年から1年ぐらい。」優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」「家で待ってるから。」峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」「急なことがあって――」「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」そんな！「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」「事務室だ。」「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった	LEARN_MORE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	127	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	heplk.com	VIDEO	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/471301379_2110278219403056_2448768236735869008_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dmRvL62jbAwQ7kNvgGqUftL&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYD4Hl-lsG2ebw3EY8mbFiDx1NAfFc9p5wjmAa8BmGyzWQ&oe=67711AEC	PERSON_PROFILE	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,337	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649270}'	No	2024-12-24 18:29	active	2084	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！	高橋優子が末期癌と診断されたその日、夫の佐藤峻介は、初恋の相手の子供の世話をしていた。 ... 病院で、中村悠斗が渋い顔で言った。「優子さん、手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」優子はかばんのひもを細い指でぎゅっと握りしめ、青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。「先輩、もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」「半年から1年ぐらい。」優子は唇をぎゅっと噛みしめ、やっと言葉を吐き出した。「先輩、このことは秘密にしてちょうだい。家族を心配させたくないの。」高橋家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。悠斗は諦めたように言った。「口外しないよ。でも、結婚していると聞いた。旦那さん――」「お父さんのことはお願いね。もう行かないと。」優子は夫の話題を避けるように、早々にその場を立ち去った。父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、夫である佐藤峻介は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。かつては彼も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である松本里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で松本里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。だが、病気のことを知った今、彼女は震える手で彼の電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の用件なら、お前に会う気はない。」優子は涙をこらえ、癌の話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、そろそろ赤ちゃんの定期検査よ。」その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。優子はこ震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「優子、今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」「家で待ってるから。」峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今急に同意したのだろう？彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が子どもを抱えながら追いかけてきた。しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去った。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」「離婚届にサインしてもらう必要がある。」その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。濡れた体を引きずりながら、彼女はカバンから書類を静かに取り出した。「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」彼の顔が嘲笑を浮かべた。かつてなら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今彼女はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。これでも、まだ情けをかけてるつもりよ。」峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」翌朝、日の出前には優子は出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「高橋さん、お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」「えっ？すぐ向かいます！」病院に到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。今、唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。総額は300万円以上。でも、以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。仕方なく、峻介に電話をかけた。冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」「急なことがあって――」「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」そんな！「嘘じゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」「それで、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。その言葉に、優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方する人がいるのか？「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後にだ。」それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。なぜだ？ 2年前の高橋家の破産と結びつけて考えると、偶然の出来事とは思えなくなってきた。もうしかして、峻介が裏で何かを仕掛けたのだ。しかし、実家は一体どうやって彼を怒らせてしまったのだろう？今、考え込む余裕もなく、父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」「髙橋さん、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろした。介護人に父を任せ、市役所に急いだが、峻介はどこにもなかった。焦て電話をかける。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」「事務室だ。」「今すぐ離婚手続きを済ませに来てくれない？」峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」「終わるまで待つから……峻介、お願い、今父はお金が必要なの。」「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」それだけ言うと、彼は電話を切った。再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。優子は息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。「お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」「はい。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要があるので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」優子は切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人物――松本里美だった。	LEARN_MORE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	127	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	heplk.com	IMAGE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469711969_384229181383992_1024207899625528278_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=YYPaaUYpLXAQ7kNvgG0d7S0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYC8qwEdpm1d0wlrsLLKqPIA7o61uRkFuZLNpOSfKT6lvA&oe=67712E0A	PERSON_PROFILE	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,362	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	Yes	2024-12-24 18:30	active	2084	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/	883	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/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=on66GRJWQYEQ7kNvgFWk6Pd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYBKhkHy6mIJb-g24UBtXfn1tg1OB-WcTDD-eJE1-3OxFg&oe=67711BAE	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,378	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:31	active	2084	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/	883	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/t39.35426-6/468488068_484333964060835_7423614745601675335_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=on66GRJWQYEQ7kNvgFWk6Pd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYBKhkHy6mIJb-g24UBtXfn1tg1OB-WcTDD-eJE1-3OxFg&oe=67711BAE	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,409	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:33	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,431	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:35	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,444	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:35	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,447	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:35	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,531	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:40	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,567	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649284}'	No	2024-12-24 18:41	active	2084	😍Read the next chapters👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	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2,649,582	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	No	2024-12-24 18:41	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,621	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649596}'	No	2024-12-24 18:41	active	2084	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	February in Sureton City was wet. It had been drizzling throughout the day, leaving the roads damp. The cold wind brought with it the rain, making Freya Somner shiver. She held an umbrella and curled up while crouching before the entrance to the city hall. It was already 5:00 pm. Would that person come? She was worried as she thought about her grandfather, Neil Somner, who lay sick in bed. Had he finished his IV drip? Would he need to use the restroom? Had Thomas Talbot already gone home? She looked up and scanned the empty streets. The city hall would close for the day at 5:30 pm. She would just grit her teeth and wait for another half an hour, then. If that person didn't show up, she could blame him and tell Neil and Thomas that he'd stood her up. It wasn't because she didn't want to marry him or anything. Neil was sick. As a traditional medicine practitioner, he knew his time was running out. Freya was his only concern—she would be alone in the world once he passed. He'd contacted Thomas, whom he'd saved many years ago. Thomas had promised Neil that he would do everything in his power to help if Neil ever needed it. All Neil had to do was make the call. Years had passed since then, but the call had miraculously gone through. Thomas had shown up the very next day. Neil had explained the situation to him and asked Thomas to help care for Freya in the future. Thomas had generously said, "It's only natural for me to care for her. How about this—I have many grandsons, so I'll have one of them marry Fae as a way of repaying you. That way, she won't be alone." Neil had agreed, leaving Freya with no room to object. She didn't want to marry—she could take care of herself and was fine alone. She was currently staying at the dormitory her university had prepared for graduate students. She even had 2,300 a month as financial aid. Eating at the hospital's and university's cafeterias was cheap—she only needed to spend 15 a day on food. However, Neil had insisted. He felt that it was hard to predict the future, and he would only be able to rest in peace once he saw that marriage certificate. That way, he'd be able to face Freya's parents in the afterlife with no regrets. Freya's parents had died after falling off a cliff. They'd been searching for a herbal catalyst to save Thomas back in the day. It had rained that day, just as it had on this day. Freya had seen her parents' corpses entwined with one another, their hands still clutching the herbal catalyst. After her parents passed away, she and Neil depended on each other for survival. It was on that day that she'd suddenly grown up. She'd studied hard and skipped grades, sitting for her SATs at 17 years old. Then, she'd gotten into Sureton University's medical faculty, joining the seven-year integrated bachelor's and master's program. She only had two years to go before she could graduate and officially start working. Things were starting to look good. Then, Neil had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. It was taking his life away. The screeching of brakes pulled Freya out of her reverie. She looked up at the offroad vehicle before her. It was painted a military green and covered in mud, and the tires were soiled. It was clear the car had ventured through the mountains. The door opened, blocking the man's face from her view. Still, she'd gotten a glimpse of his chiseled features. His bushy brows, tall nose, and deep-set eyes formed a handsome, honest face. With the door open, all Freya could see was the army pants enveloping his long legs and the leather boots he wore. It was a cold day, yet he only wore an olive green T-shirt. He stepped away from the car. Before Freya could take a closer look at his face, he approached her, stopping before her so his boots were level with her eyes. "Are you Freya Somner?" he asked, his voice deep and somewhat daunting. "Yeah." "Let's get married, then." He turned and headed into the city hall. Chapter 2 Freya wanted to stand up, but she'd been crouching for so long that her legs had gone numb. "What's wrong?" the man asked. "My legs have gone numb." She was lifted off her feet as soon as the words were out of her mouth. An unfamiliar scent enveloped her, and she felt her face burn. The man placed her on the seat before the counter. "Get your identification." She kept her head lowered as she obediently placed the things on the counter. "Daniel Talbot," the staff said. "That's me," the man said. "Freya Somner." "Here," Freya said. She looked up at the staff. The staff looked at the identification she held, then at Freya. The latter's eyes were spirited but also carried a hint of naivety. Freya was only 22, but Daniel was already 28. He'd even carried her in. That made the staff suspect whether Freya had been forced into this. She asked, "Are you here to get married at your own will?" "Yes, I am," Freya said. "Alright, then. Fill up these forms, please." At 5:30 pm, Freya and Daniel walked out of the city hall. Freya looked down at her marriage certificate. She'd gone from being single to married once the staff stamped the certificate. She'd married a man she'd met for the first time without even dating him. The whole thing had only taken a matter of minutes. Daniel stopped and looked at her. "Where are you headed now?" She had kept her head down and hadn't been paying attention to the distance between them. She walked right into his chest. Pain spread through her, starting from her nose. Tears welled in Freya's eyes. How could his chest be as hard as a wall? She clamped a hand over her nose and looked at him tearily. "I'm going back to the hospital." He was so tall that her eyes were only level with his chest. It was incredibly muscular and looked just like the diagrams she'd seen in her medical texts. "Get in the car," he said. Freya struggled to open the door. She tugged it with all her strength, but it didn't budge. Daniel saw her from the driver's seat. He waved at her, gesturing for her to back up. Then, he opened the door from inside. "Which hospital are you going to?" he asked. "The county tumor hospital, the one at Percat Street. Thanks." Freya obediently settled in her seat. "Your seatbelt," he said. She put it on, and he started the car. She noticed that his hands and arms were tanned, with protruding veins. He oozed strength and power. Suddenly, Freya's stomach rumbled. The sound was magnified in the silent car. She instinctively held her stomach, her face turning beet red. What was wrong with her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself? Was there something about her that made her incompatible with Daniel? Her stomach continued to rumble for a while. Finally, the car stopped. Freya thought they'd arrived at the hospital and moved to open the door. Then, she looked out and said, "We're not at the hospital." Daniel had already gotten out of the car, though. He headed to a fruit store without looking back at her. Soon, he returned with a bag full of fruits. "I don't know what your grandfather likes, so I bought a little of everything." "He can't eat anything. Doctor's orders." Daniel looked at her, perhaps because she sounded too calm. Only then did Freya notice how deep-set his eyes were. There was a hint of dominance in them. "You have them, then." He placed the bag on her lap. "Have some to tide the hunger. I'm in a rush." Freya wondered whether he was showing his concern for her. A wave of warmth surged in her as she peeled a banana. It was sweet. … The nurse had just removed Neil's IV drip when Freya and Daniel arrived at the ward. Thomas took the marriage certificates from Daniel and Freya and held them before Neil. He said happily, "Look at this, Neil. They're official marriage certificates with the stamps and all. They're genuine!" Neil smiled and nodded weakly. "That's great. I won't have anything to worry about anymore." "Come closer so Neil can see you, Dan," Thomas said. Daniel stepped forward. "Hi, Grandpa." Neil's smile widened. "Hi…" He held Daniel's hand and said, "I'll leave Freya in your hands from now on. She's a softie but is stubborn on the inside. I hope you'll be more tolerant of her and take the time to explain your thoughts to her if you two ever get into an argument." Tears streamed down Freya's face when she heard this. Daniel said, "I will, Grandpa." "Don't worry, Neil. We won't mistreat Freya. Daniel has property and a car—I'll have him show Freya around his place right now. She can move in when she's free," Thomas said. Freya forgot about crying and stared at Thomas in shock when she heard that. Didn't she and Daniel only have to get married? Why did they even have to live together? "Go on, then. It's still light out, so you can see what the place is like," Neil said. Daniel and Freya headed to his place under Thomas' urging. Chapter 3 Daniel's apartment was in Sureton City's central commercial area. It was an expensive area with good infrastructure—the medical and education systems were well-established. The residential area was right next to Sureton City's largest park. Freya looked at the minimalist, almost stark apartment. The marble coffee table was covered in a layer of dust. "This is your home?" "Yeah." Daniel also saw the dust. "I don't usually stay here." That didn't make sense at all. Why would anyone not live in their own home? Freya couldn't understand it. "There's a card here that you can use to pay for the utilities." He opened a drawer in the TV cabinet to show her. "If anything needs fixing, you can speak to the management office. "I'll have someone clean up the place later. There are two rooms, so you can pick whichever one you want. Feel free to use the study as well…" Freya observed the place. It was well renovated but showed no signs of being lived in. There weren't even any plates or utensils around. "What am I to you?" she suddenly asked. "My wife." "But I feel like your mistress," she said boldly. She didn't know whether Daniel had a girlfriend or anything—perhaps he'd only married her due to Thomas' pressure. Otherwise, he wouldn't have made her wait a whole afternoon for him, only arriving right before the city hall closed for the day. "What are you getting at?" Daniel asked. "I'm fine with getting a divorce if you already have a partner—our grandfathers have seen the marriage certificates, anyway. I don't want to inadvertently end up as a homewrecker." She respected the elderly but wouldn't do anything immoral just to comply with Neil's and Thomas' wishes. Daniel understood now. "I'm single. I usually stay at the military camp in the mountains." Freya recalled his offroad vehicle and the mud on it. That, coupled with his outfit, made her realize just who he was. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding you." "It's fine. I'll take you back to the hospital now—you can move in here whenever it's convenient for you." "What about you?" she blurted. Then, she disdained herself for asking. What did his matters have to do with her? "I need to head back after this. There's an urgent mission I need to handle." That was the last thing Daniel said to her. … Shortly after Daniel left, Neil's condition took a turn for the worse, and a new semester started. Freya bustled back and forth between the university and the hospital daily. On days when Neil felt better, he could even hold Freya's hand and reminisce with her. Neither of them mentioned that rainy night, though. He kept telling her that life was long and that she had to live well independently. However, he also told her she couldn't expect to do everything herself. She had to give in occasionally. Daniel looked like a good man, and they had to communicate with each other. They had to understand each other… Neil said many things. Freya wanted to object to everything and tell him that none of that mattered. She wanted him to know that she only wanted to spend her life with him in a small town called Floriver Town. She wanted to read medical texts and pick herbs with him. However, as a doctor, she was rational enough to know there was no chance of them ever returning to that life. The reports and data she saw every day were enough to tell her that Neil's condition was deteriorating. She cried almost daily throughout that month but hid it well. Neil never noticed. One day, white clouds floated in the blue sky. Freya drew the curtains, allowing the sunlight to stream into the room. Neil was in good spirits. "The weather is so nice today, Fae. Maybe you should take me off my oxygen tube now." He sounded calm, but Freya faltered while clipping his nails. She acted like she hadn't heard him and moved on to the next finger. "I can't take it anymore, Fae. I'm on drug every day, but it still hurts so bad. I'm begging you, okay?" His plea made Freya's nose prickle. Tears rolled down her face and landed on the floor, fading within seconds. Neil was a proud and strong man who'd never begged anyone in his life. Now… It looked like she really had to let him go. She slowly shut her eyes, sounding choked up as she said, "Okay. I'll get a doctor after I'm done clipping your nails." "The weather is so nice today that I feel so much more relaxed," Neil said. He lifted a hand with difficulty to caress her head one last time. It reminded her of how he'd praised her whenever she could memorize the things she'd read in the medical texts. After Freya signed the necessary documents, the doctor removed Neil's oxygen tube. She stood by his bedside and held his hand until his body became devoid of warmth. Thomas helped her with Neil's funeral, after which he urged her to move into Daniel's apartment. Chapter 4 Two years passed in the blink of an eye. "There's no time to eat, Dr. Somner. We're being dispatched for a house call." Freya was in a hospital's emergency room. When she heard the nurse, Jade Winton, call her, she put a folder over her unfinished instant mac and cheese and left the doctor's lounge. "Where's Dr. Wood?" she asked while wearing a mask. She hurried to catch up with Jade. "He's accompanying Lena for a prenatal check. I've called him, and he's on his way." Jade grabbed a first-aid kit and an extra bag of gauze and bandages. She handed them to Freya. "What's the situation? Why do we need so many bandages and gauze?" "A luxury jewelry store was robbed. The store's staff called the police, but the robbers discovered them and took ten staff hostage. We're being dispatched to provide medical assistance," Jade said. She told Freya everything she knew, then added, "Don't be rash later. Leave everything to Dr. Wood." "Got it. Thanks, Jade." Freya's mentor, Jason Wood, arrived at the same time as Freya and Jade. He was a tall, skinny man whose hairline was receding. He'd come from a prenatal check with his wife, Lena Johnson, and had already changed into his uniform. It made him look particularly spirited. "What's the situation?" he asked as he got into the car. "A jewelry store's been robbed. The robbers are armed," Jade said. Silence descended upon the car. They didn't know what they were facing but had to go at it regardless. Medicine knew no borders, and all lives were equal in worth. They had to save lives as long as they were at risk. When Freya and the others arrived, the police had already secured the scene. A crowd consisting of spectators and staff from various media outlets gathered behind the police line, surrounding the place and making it hard for anyone to get through. Police cars and vehicles belonging to a SWAT team were parked outside the jewelry store. There were also three buses with the windows tinted black. Freya followed Jason out of the car. A man who looked like an administrator hurried over to them, looking anxious. "The robbers need a doctor in there to save their comrade. Which one of you two will go in?" Freya looked at the jewelry store. It had three floors and was a corner lot with an expansive view. A mall was behind it, which meant it probably had more than one exit. "I'll go," Jason said, dragging Freya out of her reverie. She gave him a disagreeable look. "No way. I'll go, Dr. Wood. You have parents and children to care for, and Lena's conceived with your second child. You can't go in there." "You can't, either. You're inexperienced." Jason's attitude was firm. "The situation is complicated. I'm the only one who can head in there." Freya didn't argue with him. She turned to the administrator and volunteered. "I'll go, sir. I've passed the medical board exam and can practice independently. I don't have any dependents or relatives to care for." He looked at her. She was young and so nervous that she clenched her fists, but her expression was calm. She was bold, but her courage needed some training. "You can go, then. We don't know the situation inside, so we can only act when the Falcon Strike Unit arrives. All you need to do when you get in there is to save whoever is injured. Drag things out for as long as possible while ensuring your safety and wait for help." "Understood, sir." Freya wore her medical cap and gave herself a mental pep talk. "Freya…" Jason started. "I have to gain experience since I don't have it, Dr. Wood. You have to give me a chance," she said. That was what medicine was like. One had to be bold and careful while constantly defeating one's old self. That way, one would only become a better version of oneself. Jason knew what Freya was like. She'd met various people when treating patients. When some of them criticized or insulted her, she wouldn't take it lying down. Her retorts left much to be desired, though. For instance, if a patient said she was incapable and that a doctor online had told them this and that, she would say, "I'll leave, then. You can ask your online doctor to treat you." Once, someone had shouted at her, saying she was useless. She'd clapped back, calling that person the useless one. "Do you guys have a bulletproof vest or something? Give one to her." Jason knew nothing he said would change Freya's mind. The administrator gave one of his subordinates a look. A member of the SWAT team brought a bulletproof vest over. Freya took her doctor's coat off and put the bulletproof vest on over her T-shirt. Then, she put her uniform on. Chapter 5 Jade handed Freya the first-aid kit before hanging the stethoscope from her neck. "You're just going to ignore everything I told you before we came here, aren't you? You're bound to get into trouble if you continue like this." "No one is more suitable than me, Jade," Freya said calmly. "It's not like the military region's general hospital lacks doctors. If you turn them down, they'll arrange for someone else to come." "But it's too far away. They'll take at least 30 minutes to arrive. That doesn't conform to the principles of pre-hospitalization emergency care." Jade was one of the emergency room's most experienced nurses, so she knew Freya was right. It was the only thing they could do under the circumstances. The administrator held a loudspeaker and shouted toward the store, "The doctor is coming. Open the door." A hoarse voice rang out as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Put the first-aid kit on the ground and turn in a circle. Then, take everything out of the first-aid kit and lay them on the ground." Freya did as told. She'd just placed the final tool on the ground when the hoarse voice rang out again. "Put the things back in and come inside." Freya packed everything back. She was about to enter the store when she felt a cool breeze. Curious, she looked in the direction it had come. A helicopter was hovering in midair in one of the jewelry store's blind spots. A tall figure in camouflage slid down the rope and made a smooth landing. It happened in seconds. Freya stared at the man, finding his figure incredibly familiar. He wore a black mask, and his sharp eyes flitted past her. Then, he hid behind the wall. Another team member landed behind him. "Come in," the hoarse voice urged loudly. He sounded impatient. Freya knew she had to enter the store since these people had yet to infiltrate it. Once she understood that, she didn't hesitate to head inside. As soon as she pushed open the door, she smelled the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the neck and roughly dragged her inside. Then, he flung her onto the floor and commanded, "Save him." She looked at the man on the floor. His mask, shaped like a pig's head, had been thrown aside. He looked ashen while struggling to breathe and had cyanosis of the nail bed. These were all signs of a lack of oxygen. Freya checked him and concluded that he was having an asthma attack. His throat had swelled up, leading to breathing difficulties. She searched his bag while muttering, "Where's the inhaler?" Asthma patients would bring their inhalers when they were out, but she didn't find one in his bag. "What are you looking for?" a man in a mask shaped like a dog's head asked. "His inhaler," she said. "He doesn't have one. Do a cricothyrotomy on him right now." Freya was taken aback. "How are you related to him? You know how to save him?" Suddenly, he pressed a gun to her forehead. "Shut up if you don't want to die. Just do as I say!" The iciness of the metal made Freya's heart clench. Her mind went blank for a second, and she couldn't think. "Hurry up!" He kicked her shoulder. The pain made her snap to her senses. She forced herself to calm down and took a deep breath before commencing anatomical positioning and sterilization. Then, she inserted a thick injection needle into the cricothyroid membrane. The process didn't take long, and the man gradually started looking better. Suddenly, a black thing landed not far from Freya. Before she realized what it was, a few more followed. The inside of the store was quickly filled with smoke, and people started yelling. The alarm went off. Freya wanted to take advantage of the chaos to hide, but a hand wrapped around her neck. A gun was pressed to her forehead, and someone snarled, "You're coming with me." Chapter 6 The man dragged Freya to a secluded corner to hide. The cold feeling against her temple made her compliant. Her palms grew sweaty as she stood there, and she could hear her heart racing. No matter how nervous or scared she was, she could only place her faith in the Falcon Strike Unit and tightly hold the needle in her hand. A few minutes later, red lights flashed at them. The man dragged Freya out of their hiding spot. Before she could even see what was happening, she heard a muffled groan behind her. Then, there was a thump, and the robber's hand fell before her. She was still lost when a team of three surrounded her. A familiar voice said, "Take her out, Rabbit." "Roger, Falcon." This voice belonged to a woman. Rabbit, or Loren Smith, turned to Freya. "Come with me." Freya turned to look at the familiar man while following Loren out. He glanced at her while walking up the stairs, and his sharp eyes matched the ones in her memory. She asked Loren, "Is the person you called Falcon Daniel Talbot?" Loren faltered. Then, she continued walking out while observing their surroundings. She didn't respond to Freya's question, but Freya knew she was right. After leaving the jewelry store, the situation outside left no room for Freya to be pensive. She threw herself into work—the jewelry store's staff had more or less been injured. Jason was rescuing the most critically injured ones, so she had to handle those who were only bruised or scraped. The injured staff came and went as she stopped the bleeding, cleaned wounds, and bandaged them. "Freya." She looked up in the middle of stopping a patient's bleeding to see black leather boots before her. Then, she raised her head to find Daniel standing before her. She looked away and continued with her work. "Yes?" "Help me clean this up." He'd taken his mask off, his tanned face unreadable. It had been two years since they'd last seen each other. Now that they were reunited, Freya still couldn't help feeling a little scared of him. Based on what she remembered, he was a little domineering, and he spoke and acted brusquely. "I'm almost done here." She picked up the pace and recorded the time. Then, she called out to Jade, who was somewhere behind her, "I'm done with the last one, Jade. They can be sent to the hospital now." She turned back to Daniel. "Have a seat." She sterilized her hands and scanned him. There didn't seem to be any wounds on him, so she asked, "Where's your injury?" "The side of my abdomen." He lifted his shirt, revealing the bandage around his waist. Freya crouched before him, finding that the bandage had already been stained with blood. She removed it and looked at the stitches on the neat wound—it was a knife wound. He asked, "How have you been for the past two years?" "Not too bad." "I was on a mission abroad when your grandfather passed. I've only just returned." Freya faltered. Daniel was explaining why he had missed Neil's funeral. Her voice remained calm as she said, "I understand." They didn't speak anymore after that. Freya didn't ask about the wound, merely cleaning it and bandaging it again. She stood up and took off her gloves, throwing them into the medical waste bin. "You'll have to be careful with your wound for some time. It'll take longer for you to recover if you keep reopening it." "Thanks," he said. "You're welcome." Their conversation was polite and distant. "This is yours, right?" Daniel suddenly held out a sandalwood bracelet with an emerald pendant in the middle. Freya's face was carved on it—it didn't look much like her, though. It was a bracelet her father had made for her. "Yes, it is. Thanks." She reached out for it. Her fingers brushed against his palm as she took the bracelet from him, making her heart skip a beat. She immediately retracted her hand. "I'm leaving." Daniel stood up. He straightened his shirt and returned to his unit. Freya watched as the helicopter started up. The blades spun, lifting the aircraft into the air. Then, it flew away. "Let's go, Dr. Somner. We're taking a police car back," Jade called. Freya snapped to her senses. The helicopter was no longer in sight. All that was left was a vortex cloud left from its tail. She tightened her grip on the bracelet and packed everything up. Then, she ran to Jade with the first-aid kit and medical waste bag in hand. … After the incident, Jason requested that she be placed under counseling and given a month off. Freya returned to work after only three days at home, though. "Go home and rest," he said. "I need to do something with my hands, Dr. Wood." Jason pressed a hand to his forehead and threw her a pair of gloves. "Go to the debridement room and change the dressing for the patients there. You're not allowed to go on house calls or dispatches in the future." "Why?" Freya didn't get it.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	327	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15224&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/465177296_583272707382050_3697801936779761977_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=yYWLjPGdlhsQ7kNvgGz6Cec&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYDqQqaInAu7COEoPbw-Sr8XNNJOjQHJ0MdzjLu4LcYXiA&oe=67711E11	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,561	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649284}'	No	2024-12-24 18:41	active	2084	😍Read the next chapters👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	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2,649,289	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649284}'	No	2024-12-24 18:27	active	2084	😍Read the next chapters👉	For three days and three nights, Joseph gave me no respite. He had come to live with me as my husband, one I had little respect for. Not only would I never let him touch me, but I'd done everything in my power to belittle him. But now that my fortune had all but disappeared, and he was suddenly a rich man, it was like he was taking his revenge. He seemed to savor every last act we performed. ... My husband came to me with nothing. It wasn't even him I liked; it was his brother. But at a class reunion, I had too much to drink and he took advantage. Not only that, but everyone we knew found out. My father was disgraced. He felt the only thing to do to save our family honor was for me to marry this man. But he did have one condition, that the man who despoiled me would come and live with us in our family home. My new husband's parents were divorced. His father had all but abandoned him after remarrying and now he had nothing. As for me, my family was rich, and I was my parents' little princess. My husband could hardly have dreamed of a better match. So, just like that, we were married. No one even considered what I wanted. I wanted his brother. Naturally, I resented him and everything he'd done. I wouldn't let him near me. I made him sleep on the floor. I would mock him at mealtimes, along with my brother. We'd sneer at him and refuse him food. He'd still do things for me, like bring me umbrellas in the rain, but I'd make sure to insult him nonetheless. I couldn't feel easy letting him get away with what he'd done. Despite all this, he never seemed to mind. It was like he had no temper, no self-respect. Whatever me or my family said and did, he would always sit there meekly and take it. Objectively, he wasn't bad to look at. If he hadn't been so introverted and if his grades hadn't been so bad then he'd probably have got a lot more attention at school. His brother was a different story. Handsome, outgoing, with impeccable grades, he was what you might call a bit of a schoolyard celebrity. To think that our burgeoning romance was snuffed out so cruelly by my husband's actions was a source of great pain and anger. In the middle of the night, I got out of bed and kicked my husband awake, demanding a drink. He immediately pulled himself to his feet and dutifully got me a glass of water. As there was a slight autumn chill in the air, he even warmed it up for me. Such thoughtfulness might have charmed me, but all I could think of was how he'd used me the night of our class reunion. My anger flared and I threw the whole glass of water in his face. His only reaction was to go to the bathroom to dry himself off. Watching him quietly slink away, I almost felt a pang of guilt for my actions. That is, until I reminded myself once more of what he'd done and how my life would never be the same again. This was our life for the first three years of marriage. But a lot can happen in three years. For example, my family losing our fortune, or me starting to fall for my husband, or even... him deciding he wanted a divorce. When he handed me the divorce papers, he said it was because his childhood sweetheart had returned. I have to admit, at that moment, I was in shock. It was like a great weight was crushing my body and I could hardly breathe. But I had too much self-respect to let him see how he was hurting me. With as carefree an expression as I could muster, I took the pen from his hand and signed the papers. As soon as I had done so, he asked me, not unkindly, "Would you like my driver to take you home?" It took me a while to react. The villa I was in, the villa I had called home for over 20 years, was no longer mine. My family was broke. All of our possessions had been sold off. All this while he, the man who had forced me into marriage when he had nothing to his name, had secretly started his own company and built his own fortune behind my back. To add insult to injury, it was he who had bought our family home. Not that I could blame him completely. Or that I had any claim to his wealth. He had worked hard to get where he was, without a penny of help from me or my family, all while suffering in silence. He stared at me in silence, waiting for my response. He suddenly seemed so reasonable, while I was now ashamed of how I'd treated him. After all that I'd put him through, it would be only natural for him to use this reversal of fortunes to exact his revenge. But he wasn't doing so. If anything, he seemed just as meek and mild-mannered as before. "There's no need. I'll find my own way back." I replied. As soon as I'd finished speaking, I turned and hurried outside. His voice called after me, calmly, "What did you come to see me about?" "Nothing" I called back, without even turning my head. It was raining outside and I clutched the gift I was carrying tightly to keep it dry. Today was our third-year anniversary. I'd never done anything nice for him before, but since realizing I had developed feelings for him, I thought it might be nice to celebrate a nice occasion together. I'd never dreamed that what awaited me was a pile of divorce papers. I smiled a bitter smile as the rain soaked through my clothing and left me drenched. The next day, I woke up sniffling. I lay there in bed, feeling too weak to get up. Eventually, a commotion outside disturbed me from my malaise. I dragged myself feebly out of bed. When I made it outside, my father was sitting atop a crumbling wall, declaring to all that he wanted to terminate his life. We were now living in a dilapidated apartment block. Conditions in the building were poor, but the rent was cheap. My mother was crying and wailing, screaming at my father that if he jumped, she would follow suit. My head was pounding as I tried to talk my father down. I tried to tell him that money isn't everything, that as long as we have each other we'd be fine. My father looked at me, suddenly quiet. His eyes seemed to be burning into my soul. "Go ask Joseph for help. He's family. He wouldn't abandon us now." Having heard my father's words, my mother hastily added, "Of course! Maybe we haven't always seen eye to eye, but he's your husband. He's certain to help." I could almost have laughed. My parents still had no idea about our divorce. I tried to tell them he wouldn't help, but my father started becoming hysterical once more. He left me with no choice. I had to go crawling back to Joseph. To my "husband". Before I left, my mother insisted on spending the last of our money to get me a new outfit: a long dress with a deep-cut V-neck and a pair of pointy leather shoes. She also helped me do my make-up so I was dolled up to the nines. As I looked myself up and down in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of revulsion. I didn't look at all like someone asking for help. I looked more like I was on a mission to seduce. But even if I turned up on his doorstep in my birthday suit, I doubt he'd give me more than a cursory glance. At that time, I couldn't understand why he'd slept with me at our class reunion. Could it be that he was just as drunk as I was? Had he mistaken me for his sweetheart? I quickly put those thoughts out of my mind. Even though I was doomed to fail, I would go to ask him for help. That way my parents could give up on the fantasy that he might save us. After making some inquiries, I discovered that he was at his company's offices. And so, that's where I went. I headed inside, while my parents, who had accompanied me this far, waited outside. The looks of pure, desperate hope on their faces were almost too much for me to bear, knowing how much this would disappoint them. When I arrived at his office, I was greeted by a sea of unfriendly faces. I could make out people talking about me as I passed. Nothing I heard was nice. I pretended not to notice. I straightened my shoulders and made straight for his personal office. But as soon as I saw him, I could feel my confidence fade. He was sitting on his chair, radiating poise, smiling broadly as he watched me approach... Chapter 2 I stood there wringing my fingers in shame as I explained why I had come. Joseph's gaze grew stern as he asked, "And why do you think I should help you?" It was clear that I had been right to think he would reject me. "Please, forget I even came." After everything we put him through, my family should be happy he wasn't seeking revenge. To come here asking him for help was nonsense. I'd swallowed my pride for my parents' sake, but obviously, we'd get no help from him. I was beginning to get angry at myself for even trying. I started to leave but he called me back. "Tell me. What do you have to offer in return? If I feel like it's worth it, then I'm sure we can make a deal." I froze in my tracks. My mind was whirring but I could think of nothing to offer him. Nothing except my body. But if he wanted that, we'd been married for three years. While we didn't share a bed, we at least shared a room. In three years, he'd never once made a move. I lowered my head, mumbling through my shame, "Just forget I came." Unexpectedly, he walked over and stood in front of me. He was a good head taller than me. He leaned over slightly and whispered against my ear. "You came here dressed like that. Why play coy now?" I felt my body stiffen and my shame burned even brighter. I wanted so desperately to turn and run. He put his hands around my waist and flashed me a knowing smile. "Three years of marriage. Every night, sleeping alone on the floor. You don't think I've dreamed of that body of yours? Why not offer me that?" My eyes grew wide. For a moment, I doubted my own ears. At last, I asked, "What are you saying?" He stared at me, his eyes as deep and impenetrable as a bottomless ocean. A sense of panic rose up inside me. Wordlessly, without looking away, he moved his fingers up and gently pulled down the straps of my dress. My cheeks flushed red and I pushed him away. I shouted, angrily, "If you won't help, just say so! I didn't expect you to anyway. There's no need to insult me like this!" Joseph looked at me, a hard-to-read expression crossing his face, like a mixture of anger and amusement. He said, "You think this is an insult?" "Is it not?" He clearly had feelings for someone else. To act this way towards me could be seen as nothing but insulting. He suddenly turned away and sat back down in his chair. When he raised his head to look at me once more, his gaze was cold. He sneered, "The way you're dressed, I thought you were serious, but it seems you haven't thought this through. If you're not here to make a deal, then I suggest you leave." I never expected him to help. Having had my prediction confirmed, I turned and left the office. As soon as I stepped outside the building, my parents were there to ask me how things went. "Will he help us?" My father asked urgently. All I could do was shake my head. My father's rage erupted. "The ungrateful swine. Now he's made his fortune he's forgotten his own family? If I'd have seen him for what he is, I'd never have let him marry you!" My mother joined in. "He always acted so civil, like a dutiful son-in-law. But now that he doesn't need us, he leaves us out in the cold!" I let out a helpless sigh. "There's no use cursing him now. Besides, he never took a penny from us, never made use of your connections. He's entitled to his business. "And it's not like we treated him much like a part of the family. Surely, you can see why he might not want to help us." My parents didn't respond, but it was clear from their expressions that they weren't impressed. Looking at them like this, my head, still heavy from whatever illness I'd caught the night before, began to hurt even worse. That evening, my brother took his phone and called each of his old friends, asking them for help. Back when we had money, they'd pick up the phone and come out drinking in a flash. Now that we were destitute, not a single one would answer. In his fury, my brother smashed the phone. I lay curled up in bed and tried to comfort him. "This is the world we live in. Friendship isn't what it used to be." My mother was sitting nearby, crying. The financial straits we were in meant it was unlikely we were ever going to recover. The best we could hope for was to somehow pay off our debts. My family's creditors were making daily appearances, demanding money. The calls were so frequent that it was impossible to focus our attention on anything else. My father was desperate. "Anna, why not try asking Joseph for a loan? He has money. At the very least, he should be able to lend us some." Then my mother chimed in. "Even if you divorced, wouldn't he have to give you some of his money?" I curled up tighter beneath the blankets. How was I supposed to tell them I hadn't got a single penny out of our divorce? My brother had heard as much as he could take. "That's enough! Sending Anna off to beg for mercy is degrading. Don't you remember how we treated him when he was with us?" Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed my mother's face. She quickly asked, "Did Joseph insult you when you went to see him?" I shook my head. "No. Of course not." My mother looked reassured. Almost to herself, she muttered, "Of course he wouldn't. He's always been such a well-mannered person, not to mention obedient. He clearly likes and admires you. How could he possibly insult you?" I barely suppressed a scornful laugh and said nothing in response. My father let out an anguished sign. He turned his gaze towards the unlocked balcony and declared his desire to end his life once more. Hearing this, my mother again started crying. By now, my head was ready to explode. All we needed was money. Even just a little would help stave off our creditors for a time, while we could work on getting more. A few days later, once my health had sufficiently recovered, I set out to find work. Most jobs I could find paid too little to put a dent in our debts, but I'd heard you could make good money trading booze in the high-end clubs. I'd seen this myself when I used to go clubbing with my friends. The customers in those places were crazy tippers. I picked my favorite club from the old days and went in to see if I could land myself a job. The manager recognized me immediately and was happy to bring me on board. He even let me start off by working the VIP tables. Serving those rich kids and big shots meant I was bringing in a decent living in tips. I never thought that one day, one of the VIPs I was serving would turn out to be Joseph. He would never have frequented an establishment such as this. At least, not while we were married. In fact, back then, if I was ever going to the club on a night out with friends, he would try to persuade me not to. He always said places like this were bad news. Of course, whenever to tried to stop me, I would insult and belittle him, until he gave in and left. He always seemed so innocent and naive. Yet here he was now. It was almost as if his meek and obedient nature had all been an elaborate ruse. He was staring at me in silence. The condescension in his gaze made me want to run and hide. If I'd have known he would be here tonight, I'd have swapped tables with one of the other staff. Just as I was hoping for the earth to swallow me up, a cacophony of wolf whistles caught my attention. As I looked around to see where they were coming from, I realized that everyone at the table with Joseph was one of my brother's erstwhile friends. Fair-weather would be a nice way to describe them. Now that Joseph was rich, these fawning hangers-on had flocked to him instead. They knew all about how I'd treated him, and now, as if to curry favor, they were making sure to humiliate me in turn. I could see it would be best to leave. Just as I was about to take my tray of drinks and go, a male voice piped up. Chapter 3 "Hey! Aren't you Anna? Joseph's wife? What's wrong? Feeling shy? Come have a drink. "Hold on a second ... Why are you wearing that uniform?" As soon as he finished speaking, the table erupted in laughter. I gripped the sides of my drinks tray and took a deep breath. What choice did I have? They'd already seen me, and they were going to have their fun no matter what I did. It's not like I could escape now. Who knew, maybe I could even get a few tips from them if I weathered the storm. My family's creditors weren't going anywhere. My father was still proclaiming daily how he didn't want to go on living, my mother was a one-woman waterworks, and my brother was running himself ragged as a delivery driver. Now wasn't the time for clinging on to hollow pride. I walked back over to their table, working hard to force a smile. I put on my best attempt at a jaunty voice and said, "What a coincidence. I didn't expect to see you all here. We're all friends; if you're happy with the service, feel free to leave a little something extra." "Ha ha ha." I was greeted by scoffs and sneers from the man who had called me over. I remembered his face. Back when my family had money, he was always following us around like a star-struck sycophant. Now that we had fallen on hard times, we were suddenly beneath him. I felt a strong urge to reach out and slap his grinning face. But now wasn't the time for self-indulgence. Money was more important. So, I stood there smiling politely and said nothing. This man—Phil, I think his name was—suddenly leaned across and put his face close to mine. With an obvious air of smug satisfaction, he jeered, "Look what we have here. Is this the same arrogant Anna, scion of the great Tate family? Not so high and mighty now your parents' money's all gone." The table erupted into mocking laughter once more. Will, another of my brother's old friends, joined in. "If you want a little something extra, then you'll have to work for it. You should know what kind of service people want in a place like this. Why not pull down that dress and give us a sneak peek of what's on offer?" My hands gripped the drinks tray so hard my knuckles went white. I looked over at Joseph. He was sitting there, completely unsympathetic to my plight. I lowered my gaze and placed the drinks tray carefully on the table. Forcing a smile, I said, "Please don't misunderstand. I'm here to serve drinks. We all used to get along once. If you want something to drink, it would be my pleasure to help". "Ha! Have things really got that bad for the illustrious Tates?" Phil dismissively threw his card down on the table, before saying, almost magnanimously, "There's 3,000 on that card. Get on all fours and bark like a dog and you can have it all." Another wave of cruel laughter washed over the table. The commotion had drawn the attention of a few people from the surrounding tables. I felt like a thousand eyes were on me. Two of those eyes belonged to Joseph. He was staring at me impassively, his expression hard to read. I stood there, frozen to the spot. Suddenly, Will threw his own card down on the table. "There's 10,000 on that one. Bark like a dog and then spend the night with us and you can have that one too." I stared at him in disbelief. My family may have lost all our money—about the only thing these leeches cared about—but as far as they were aware, I was still Joseph's wife. I couldn't believe they would dare talk to me like this in front of him. Unless Joseph had already told them about our divorce, but even then, they would have needed some sort of signal from him, otherwise they'd never have the courage to act like this. "What? I thought you needed the money. Now's hardly the time for self-respect." Will was smirking, menacingly. "You won't find a better deal than this anywhere else." He had a point. If my family was ever going to recover, at some point I was going to have to do a few things I wasn't happy about. I stared back at that mocking, moronic face. Just looking at him filled me with revulsion. I picked up the credit card, with its 10,000, and threw it back at Will. "If you want me for a night, then you're going to have to do better than this. Make it a million and I'm all yours." I remembered Will from his days mooching off my brother. He was one of those guys who liked to act the part, but when it came time to pay up, he was as stingy as they came. For him, parting ways with a large amout of money was like cutting off one of his own limbs. Yet now, he was willing to part with 10,000 just to humiliate me. It was hard to imagine what I could have done for him to hate me so much. Was I really that horrible of a person before? "Ha ha ha. Will, you're never going to get what you want being that close-fisted. This is THE Miss Anna Tate. 10,000 is a low-ball offer." The laughter erupted once more. Will's face had turned bright red and he shot me an angry look. "I'm not sure she's even worth that." He said, dismissively. I did my best to ignore him and turned to pick up Phil's card. "So, all I need to do is bark like a dog and this 3,000 is mine?" Phil's mocking expression suddenly turned to one of shock. He clearly never imagined I would take him seriously. I knew full well that Phil was just the same as Will: all bark and no bank account. I could see the unease on his face as he said, "The arrogant Anna Tate, looking down on all of us. Quit joking. There's no way you'd ever put aside your pride and go through with it." He reached over and tried to take his card back. I pulled the card back out of his reach. "Who said I was joking? It's not exactly hard to bark, is it? A few quick woofs and I make 3,000. Sounds like a good bit of business to me." Panic spread across Phil's stricken face. He stared at the card in my hand, desperate to take it back. Will's face had returned to its normal color. "Hurry up and bark then. I want to see how convincingly you beg." All of my pride was gone. All I could think of was the creditors knocking at our door, my parents' despair, and my brother wearing himself thin working for pennies. I took a deep breath, cleared my head, and said, "Okay." But just as I was getting down on all fours, a pair of hands lifted me back up. I looked around in surprise to find Joseph firmly grasping my elbows. My heart jumped. "Get out." His voice was soft but all of my brother's old friends heard him clearly. They all stood up from the table and headed outside. As Phil walked past, he grabbed the credit card from my hand, a grim look on his face. Joseph's eyes bored into me. "Is your family really that broke?" I extricated myself from his grasp and took a step back. "I think you're very clear on what our situation is like, Mr. Hertz." Our family's fall from grace was big news across the city. Everyone and their dog knew what dire straits we were in. There was no way Joseph wasn't already acutely aware. "Mr. Hertz?" He seemed amused, yet his gaze darkened. I had no idea what was going through his mind right then. To be honest, I just wanted him to leave. I waved towards the drinks tray, which was still sitting on the table. "If you're satisfied with my service, please feel free to leave a tip." Joseph continued to stare at me in silence, his gaze deep and impenetrable. I wasn't really hoping for a tip. I just wanted to find a way to end our conversation. I forced another smile and turned to leave. Joseph suddenly called out, "I'll give you a million." I froze, hardly believing my ears. I turned back to face him. "What did you say?" He took a step forward. Our faces were now only inches apart. He stared into my eyes. "I'll give you a million ... but you have to spend the night with me." Chapter 4 My lips quivered with barely suppressed rage. I wanted to scream at him. But this wasn't the Joseph from my marriage. He was rich now, and powerful. I swallowed my anger and replied curtly, "Joseph, please don't joke with me like this. I have work to do." "It's the same offer you gave to Will. Why not leave it open to me?" Joseph said quietly, his voice cold. I frowned. "That was hardly an offer. He was never going to accept it." "You told him that if he gave you 1,000,000, you'd spend the night with him. Well, I have a million, so why won't you spend the night with me?" I couldn't help but drop my smile. I had only given Will that "offer" because I knew he didn't have a million to give me. Did Joseph really think I was being serious? He walked over to me. He said, "Your family is in dire straits. All you need to do is spend one night with me and 1,000,000 could be yours." My hands tightened with fury. I understood exactly why he was doing this. To humiliate me. I did my best to control the emotion in my voice as I smiled at him coldly. "So, now you have money you think you're suddenly above me? It's true, my family is broke, but I'm not about to stoop so low as to trade my body!" Having said all I needed to, I turned around and hurried away. My eyes were already wet with tears. A tide of complex emotions swelled up inside me. With my brothers' old friends, it didn't matter how much they insulted me, I couldn't care less. But with Joseph, it was different. His humiliation filled me with pain and sadness. I hurried to the club's entrance hall where I was shocked to find my brother. He was dressed in his delivery driver's uniform and was surrounded by his old "friends". For the sake of a couple of notes, he was kneeling on the floor before them. At that moment, my remaining pride and self-respect crumbled to nothing. I bit my lip, tears streaming from my eyes. To make a little money, my brother was willing to reduce himself to this, while I was too proud to face up to Joseph's insult and make our family a million. I turned around and ran up the stairs I had just come down, praying that Joseph was still there. I sprinted back to his table to find him still sitting there. It was almost as if he knew I would come crawling back. There was a smile plastered on his face. I tried to compose myself as I approached him. "You must really hate me for how I treated you before." Without waiting for him to respond, I went on, "Fine. As long as you help my family pay off their debts, you can humiliate me any way you want, for as long as you please." Joseph lowered his gaze to his glass. He smiled even wider. "You'd be willing to be my mistress?" I took a deep breath. "Yes." He'd got rid of me as his wife, to replace me with his sweetheart, but he still wanted to keep me as his mistress. The shame was almost too much to bear. The next day, my father returned home visibly excited. He told us that our debts had all been repaid. My mother cried tears of joy as she asked my father how this had happened. He told her that Joseph had come to his senses and stepped in to help us. He had even bought us a home to live in. Suddenly, Joseph had become an angel in my mother's eyes. How he must love me to help us so much. All I could do was force a smile and bite my tongue. That afternoon, Joseph sent his driver to pick me up. My parents had no reason to be suspicious; as far as they knew, I was still his wife. To them, I was on my way to spend a happy evening with my husband, not to be used as a toy for his carnal gratification. Joseph was now living in the villa that had once belonged to my family. Not much had changed; our old servants and staff were now his. Servants are expected to follow their master, and ours had joined in more than a few times with our humiliation of Joseph. The fact that he had kept them on after taking ownership of the villa showed how magnanimous he could be. I just wondered if that magnanimity would extend to his treatment of me. Thinking back to his demeanor at the nightclub, I somehow doubted it. Our former servants and I were two different cases. At worst, they'd merely been unkind to him in passing. But I had berated him, hit him, thrown things at him, and humiliated him in front of others. Recalling my past treatment of Joseph left me feeling uncomfortable. If I'd have known that one day our roles would be reversed, I'd have been a lot nicer to him from the start. Poppy, our old maid, led me to his door. "Master Joseph asked you to wait for him here. Also ... " She paused, as though uncomfortable with what she had been asked to say. "He asked that you wash yourself before his return." My heart sank. Clearly, both of us could see what he wanted from me. But what other choice did I have? I'd already agreed to be his mistress. I was well aware that I was giving up my dignity. Joseph's room was the very same bedroom we had shared while we were married. Yet now, it felt very different. Before, there had been a mat on the floor by the side of the bed. That was where Joseph had slept while I looked down on him from my bed on high, making sure to remind him of his place. That mat was no longer here. Neither was my high and mighty feeling of superiority. Another thing that was missing was my husband's meek and obedient facade. The past is the past, I reminded myself, as I entered the bathroom with a heavy heart and turned on the shower. After getting clean, I laid down on the bed to await Joseph's return. I'd signed on to be his mistress, so I might as well play the part. Things had certainly changed since the last time I was here, but lying on that bed, I thought to myself that it could have been a lot worse. My family's debts, at the very least, had been paid off. My parents could rest easy. My brother would no longer have to work himself to the bone or prostrate himself at the feet of false friends. All of these things came as a comfort to me. I had no idea when Joseph would return. Tired out from the last few days of working and worrying, I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, there seemed to be a great weight pressing down on me. As my senses gradually returned, I realized that Joseph was on top of me. What's more, his hands were moving underneath my clothes. "How ... How dare you!" Without thinking, I raised my hands to push him off. But before I knew it, he had grabbed hold of my wrists and forced them down. "Even now, your pampered temper's still intact." He jeered at me. I gazed around at the familiar room and then at the familiar man before me. It took me a while to fully remember where I was. This bedroom we were in was now his, and I was nothing more than his mistress. My arms went limp, I meekly let out a soft apology, "I'm sorry". He laughed, standing up and heading towards the bathroom. As he cleaned himself, I wrung my hands nervously. Before all this, once I had begun to have feelings for him, the thought of his touch on my body had not been an unpleasant one. But this was different. There was nothing mutual or respectful about our current situation. This was simply possession and revenge. In such circumstances, the thought of what was to come was horrifying, but I had nowhere to run. After what seemed like an age, he finally emerged from the bathroom. The sound of the door opening once more was almost more than my frayed nerves could take.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	327	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15053&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470814330_8712858118783020_8400113635240001660_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=103&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=hIedMgEWAFAQ7kNvgG30FAd&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AoH-ajCER0YCg6Tq4085nZJ&oh=00_AYBI45ipAk3JJVP_uAqTKd6o4qrUcFrIKVwp_FALMKoDgQ&oe=67712C4C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,353	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649270}'	No	2024-12-24 18:30	active	2084	ここをクリックして無料でお読みください！	その日、優子が末期がんと診断された。その頃、夫は彼の初恋相手と一緒に「忙しかった」。 …… 「手術が成功すれば、生存率は15%から30%になる。」優子の青ざめた小さな顔に深い陰りを浮かべていた。「もし手術を受けなければ、どのくらい生きられるの？」「半年から1年ぐらいだ。すぐに入院手続きをするよ。」「そんな必要ないわ。治療を受けるつもりはない。」実家はすでに破産しており、優子は父親の医療費を工面するだけでも精一杯だった。夫である峻介は何の手伝いもくれなかった。父親の治療が始まってからの2年間、彼は一度も姿を見せたことがなかった。彼女が倒れて通行人に病院へ運ばれた時でさえもだ。かつては峻介も優子を大切にしていた。だが、初恋の相手である里美が妊娠した状態で帰国してから、すべてが変わった。優子もかつて妊娠していたことがあった。ある日、湖で里美とともに落水した時、必死にもがきながら、彼が里美に向かって泳いでいく姿を見た。その後、里美は無事に子どもを産んだ。でも優子は――母親になる機会を奪われた。 7日後、峻介は離婚を求めたが、彼女は拒否した。だが、病気のことを知った今、もう拒否することはできなかった。彼女は震える手で電話をかけた。 3回目のコールでつながると、彼の冷たい声が聞こえてきた。「離婚以外の話なら、お前に会う気はない。」優子は涙をこらえながら、がんの話を切り出すことができなかった。すると電話の向こうから里美の声が聞こえてきた。「峻介君、今は私たちの時間よ。」その瞬間、こらえていた涙が一気に溢れ出した。優子の家族を壊した彼が、今では里美と新しい家庭を築こうとしている。すべてを終わらせる時が来たのだ。優子は震える声で、絞り出すようにぽつりと呟いた。「峻介……もう、離婚しよう。」峻介は一瞬、驚いたようだったが、冷笑して言った。「今度はどんな手を使うつもりだ？」「家で待ってるから。」そう言うと、全力で電話を切った彼女は壁にもたれかかるように座り込み、袖を噛んで声を上げずに泣いた。峻介は、電話が突然切られた後、呆然とスマホを見つめていた。一年間、どんなに離婚を迫っても拒否し続けてきた優子が、なぜ今日に限って急に同意したのだろう？それに、彼女の声には涙の気配があった。窓の外、大雨が叩きつけるのを見ながら、峻介は彼女に会いに行くことを決めた。「峻介、どこに行くのよ？」里美が追いかけてきた。しかし、彼は何も言わず立ち去り、説明する気配もなかった。その瞬間、里美の優しい表情はみるみるうちに恐ろしいほど暗くなった。あの女……また何か仕掛けてきたわね！玄関のドアが開いたとき、優子はテーブルのそばに立っているスーツを着た背が高い男性を見た。彼の整った顔立ちは氷のように冷たく、その暗い瞳には優子への軽蔑が浮かんでいた。「どこに行ってたんだ？」峻介が冷たく尋ねた。かつて輝いていた優子の瞳は、その時は虚ろだった。「そんなことはいつから気にするの？」「お前にはまだ離婚届にサインしてくれる必要がある。」その言葉は鋭い針のように彼女の心を刺した。カバンから書類を静かに取り出した。「心配する必要がない。もうサイン済みだ。」彼女が書類をテーブルの上に置いたとき、峻介は「離婚」という二文字がこれほどまでに不愉快に思えたことはなかった。優子が唯一要求したのは、2億円の慰謝料だった。「どうして急に同意したのかと思ったら、結局金のためか。」嘲笑を浮かべた彼の顔が、優子の視界を覆った。かつての優子なら、自分を弁護するかもしれない。でも、今の優子はただ静かに言った。「本来なら、佐藤さんの資産の半分を請求する権利があるわ。でも、私は2億円しか要求しなかった。」峻介は一歩前に進み、長い影が優子を覆った。彼は彼女の顎を細長い指で掴み、冷たい声で言った。「今、何て呼んだ？」「佐藤さん、もしこの呼び方が嫌なら、元夫と呼び直してもいいわよ。さあ、書類にサインして帰ってもらっていい？」彼は不愉快そうな顔をした。「ここは俺の家だ。出て行けと言う権利はお前にはあるかい。」優子は皮肉げに微笑み、言った。「確かに、その権利はないわ。でも、安心して、佐藤さん。離婚証明書を受け取ったら、すぐに出て行く。」また、彼の手を振り払い、冷たい目で彼を見つめた。「明日の朝9時、市役所で書類を持ってきてください。」翌朝、日の出前には優子がすでに身支度を整えて出発しようとした時、病院から電話がかかってきた。「お父さんが心臓発作を起こしました。」「えっ！？すぐ向かいます！」到着すると、手術はまだ続いていた。手術室の前で両手を組み、祈るように待ち続ける。彼女の唯一の希望は父が健康で生き続けることだけだった。看護師が手術費用の請求書を手渡してきた。明細を見ると、総額は300万円以上。以前支払った入院費で残金はたったの10万円。どうしても足りなかった。仕方なく、彼女は峻介に電話をかけた。冷たい声が聞こえる。「どこだ？もう30分待っている。」「急なことがあって――」「優子、これでおもしろい？」峻介が鼻で笑う。「突然離婚に応じるなんて妙だと思ったが、どうせまた嘘をついているんだろう？」優子は必死に説明した。「嘘なんかじゃない！父が心臓発作を起こして手術が必要なの！――」「で、死んだのか？」峻介が遮った。優子は耳を疑った。そんな言い方をする人がいるのか！？「いいえ！峻介、手術費が300万円以上かかるの。だから慰謝料を先に振り込んでくれない？必ず離婚するから！」「優子、俺が誰よりも君の父親の死を望んでいることを理解しているよな。金を渡すのはいいだろう、でも手続きが終わった後に。」それだけ言うと、電話は切られた。優子の顔には困惑が浮かんでいた。かつて彼は父に対して敬意を払っていたはずだった。しかし、今の彼の声には本気の憎しみが滲んでいた。なぜだろう？優子は考え込む余裕もなく、今は父の治療費を何とかするのが最優先だった。手術室の扉が開いた。「先生？」「心配しないで、お父様はなんとか持ちこたえました。」「ありがとうございます！」優子はようやく胸を撫で下ろし、介護人に父を任せた。お金のために市役所に急いだが、峻介の姿はどこにもなかった。焦る気持ちで電話をかけた。「市役所に着いたわ。どこにいるの？」「事務室だ。」「峻介、今すぐ離婚手続きに来てくれない？」峻介は薄く笑って言った。「数億円の契約とお前、どっちが大事だと思う？」「終わるまで待っているから……お願い、父のためにお金が必要なの。」「もし死んだら、葬式代を出してやるよ。」彼は電話を切った。再び電話をかけたが、すでに電源が切られた。雨は容赦なく降り注ぎ、バス停の標識の下でしゃがみ込む優子は、息が詰まるような感覚に襲われた。家族の突然の破産が、いつも彼女を深く愛してくれた峻介を変えてしまうなんて… 彼女はあっという間に全てを失ってしまった。今、優子が持っている唯一の価値あるものは、結婚指輪だけだった。彼女は指輪を外し、高級宝飾店に足を踏み入れた。「いらっしゃいませ。この指輪ですね。お客様、購入時の領収書と証明書はお持ちですか？」「あります。」優子は急いで書類を差し出した。「ありがとうございます。指輪は検査に出す必要がありますので、明日またご連絡させていただけますか。」優子は乾いた唇を舐め、切迫した声で言った。「急いでいるんです。今日中にお願いします。」「はい。」店員が指輪を持ち去ろうとしたその時、ある白くて繊細な手が指輪ケースを押さえた。「この指輪、とても素敵ね。私が買うわ。」顔を上げた優子の目に飛び込んできたのは、彼女がこの世で最も憎んでいる人――里美だった。	LEARN_MORE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&ut	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	https://www.facebook.com/61559954921868/	127	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	heplk.com	IMAGE	https://heplk.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=13074&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470195820_648791847503747_4400630868748044853_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=6OvRZpvumFMQ7kNvgEXKUM0&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCVs9J9y4PvtfY5mxe-LXWHkw_NfvFZJfiCtsMcEbG8RA&oe=67710591	PERSON_PROFILE	女の子が読みたい小説を大特集	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,649,586	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2649114}'	Yes	2024-12-24 18:41	active	2084	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/	883	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=D8UBxsULjwUQ7kNvgFUuGwC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AHb1Ps_v54bH7YdDpqW4LkO&oh=00_AYCtBg2yBQ88pETWYTyw2EioR-vqnB79BW97B3z_IbTK6g&oe=67711A87	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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