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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 Description	Link Url	Creation Time	Page Profile Picture Url	Page Entity Type	Current Page Name	Startdate	Actions
2,643,527	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-11 21:30	active	1993	Is It Kwanzaa Yet?	Dec 30	BOOK_TRAVEL	https://54below.org/events/is-it-kwanzaa-yet/	54 Below	https://www.facebook.com/54Below/	121,079	1969-12-31 18:00	Book Now	54below.org	CAROUSEL	Dec 30	https://54below.org/events/is-it-kwanzaa-yet/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469995147_1952519558562018_5439301919718966085_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=CYUawxSl1NAQ7kNvgHAk5OZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AFL-DF3tpZLJq1Mu7_fYRDB&oh=00_AYBFCaNCG-3USlloCw8vLxLc-wtG-JLaGN4BR2boLY2Xfw&oe=6760080E	PERSON_PROFILE	54 Below	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,843	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642837}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:20	active	1993	Clear Space, Support Vets	Portland, it's time to declutter! Ditch the junk and support local heroes with G.I. Junk Removal! Fast, reliable, and giving back to those who served. Ready to clear out and make a difference?	LEARN_MORE	https://sarge.gijunknw.com/GIJR	G.I. Junk Removal	https://www.facebook.com/GIJunkNW/	2,319	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	sarge.gijunknw.com	DCO	Over 1,500 5-Star Reviews	https://sarge.gijunknw.com/GIJR	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469846509_1559097101389433_4262973134032479652_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=Qa9TiGT4j_EQ7kNvgG9jebx&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AA3JcUSyjVDZ2qzRa_qEAj1&oh=00_AYDQEqN_P4ES2538lVh_q5SN5cf5FdXnvuUExJbprl57_A&oe=6760286A	PERSON_PROFILE	G.I. Junk Removal	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,643,436	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-11 21:28	active	1993	✨ Say Goodbye to Unwanted Hair ✨	FREE FREE FREE The Upgraded 3-in-1 IPL Hair Removal Device offers: ✔️ 2 modes for tailored treatments ✔️ 9 energy levels for all skin types ✔️ Safe, permanent hair reduction at home 💖 Order today and take advantage of our special sale! 👉 graceessence.com	LEARN_MORE	https://graceessence.com/products/laser-hair-remov	Grace Essence	https://www.facebook.com/61569613906052/	0	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	graceessence.com	VIDEO	Limited Stock	https://graceessence.com/products/laser-hair-removal-device-for-women-and-men-3-in-1-upgraded-999-900-flashes-painless-at-home-ipl-hair-removal-device-permanent-laser-hair-removal-with-2-mode-9-energy-levels	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470074309_1044641220798611_8449464557342543857_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=108&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=9AKJvD2XayMQ7kNvgFV9_Qo&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A-VvHIO7XbqFVvmIg1iDbA6&oh=00_AYCvHfHuOMsFQtg0Y17BrUSLyYFbJJcychF08yXhyD4iIw&oe=6760336D	PERSON_PROFILE	Grace Essence	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,641,615	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641570}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:08	active	1993	😍Read the next chapters👉	Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..."	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449649369_982697950216881_6633127791340967840_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=ph9ySJOAJIsQ7kNvgHctrVc&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A1DDY9bVfAOkb9uv8HB0BF7&oh=00_AYA8W3kEjd395VmrLQQ0MbYdC1-5ahKX5pKUQhhxRoL71w&oe=6760024C	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,697	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	Yes	2024-12-11 21:18	active	1993	Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife	Amidst her family's financial downfall, she relinquished her cherished violin to play her husband's docile pet, only to be met with his contempt. Following a moment of clarity, she courageously divorced and reignited her music career, achieving great success and evoking remorse from her ex-husband. ===== Joelle Miller pored over Rebecca Lloyd's Twitter feed, studying each video with a laser-sharp attention, was eager to glimpse the face of Rebecca's boyfriend. Rebecca, the girl in the clips, exuded a soft and delicate aura in her plain white dress. She wasn't strikingly beautiful, but there was a wholesome simplicity about her, and her smile was genuinely charming. She discovered that on pivotal days--Christmas Eve, Valentine's Day, and even on Joelle's own birthday--Rebecca was with Adrian Miller, her so-called husband, who had been missing from all significant events for the past three years. Rebecca's joyful narrations and the casual snippets of her life with her boyfriend were more than enough to steep Joelle in gloom. "Do you see this? He saves the juiciest slice of watermelon just for me." "Even when he comes home late, he never forgets to bring me a little something." "And look at this--surprise! He picked up a blessing charm for me from the church." ...... The username on the account was "Countdown To Death." That was the only account Joelle followed. As she was about to reflect on the ominous name, the bathroom door swung open. In the dimly lit room, Adrian appeared, water dripped from his hair. Despite the dim lighting, his striking features were undiminished. Joelle instinctively snapped her phone shut and gazed at him, lost in thought. It had been ages since she last laid eyes on Adrian. Tonight, he was here not by choice. His grandmother, Irene Miller, was ill and desperate for a great-grandchild, which compelled him to return. Otherwise, he might never have come back. Over their three-year marriage, Adrian seldom visited home, spending most of his time at Oak Villas. It was common knowledge that he held no love for Joelle. She felt trapped in a marriage that existed in name only. "I'll give you one chance. Whether you as you wish or not is in the hands of fate," Adrian declared, his voice resonant and deep. What was he implying? Before Joelle could ponder further, Adrian seized her ankle and yanked her towards him, his shadow looming over her petite frame. Joelle's face turned pale as she faced his cruelty, her body tensed with fear. "Adrian! Stop, I don't want it..." Her words were interrupted by her own frantic struggles. Being forced into such a situation with the man she loved filled her with humiliation and terror. Adrian's sneer cut through the air. "You dared to frame me once; you should have seen this day coming. Just endure it." At his harsh words, Joelle's eyes filled with tears, her eyelashes fluttering like wounded butterflies. She looked up at his stern face, her voice trembling. "Things were not what you think..." Her protest was cut. The intense pain overwhelmed her, her resistance fading as despair took hold. She lay there, wishing for oblivion. "You've learned; playing hard to get is far more interesting than just lying there like a dead fish," he rasped, his voice laced with spite. After his shower, he departed without a backward glance, as though he couldn't leave fast enough. Before and after, his ritualistic showers seemed to cleanse him of her, as if she were a stain on his conscience. Joelle struggled to decipher her role in his life. Was she merely a plaything for his pleasure? Or a pawn to fulfill his family's expectations for an heir? The window stood wide open, letting in a biting cold wind. Joelle shivered, drawing the blanket tighter around herself. It wasn't just the chill in the air that made her tremble. Her heart felt as if it had been torn apart, a relentless icy wind whipping through its open wound. The man she had adored for nearly eight years was now a stranger to her. Three years earlier, at a lavish banquet hosted by the Miller family, Joelle had overindulged in wne. When she had woken up, she had found herself sleeping with Adrian. Before she could gather her thoughts, her brother and several members of the Miller family had burst into the room. What was done could not be reversed. Adrian's grandmother had taken the reins and orchestrated their marriage. All this time, Adrian was convinced that Joelle had dgged him to trap him. Joelle had once been baffled by Adrian's profound animosity, even if he believed she had framed him. After all, they had grown up together. But now, she understood. In Adrian's eyes, she was nothing but the nefarious woman who had sabotaged his relationship with Rebecca. She often found herself pondering how perfect Adrian seemed in Rebecca's videos--always so gentle and attentive. It dawned on her that he would probably never show her that same tenderness. Eventually, Joelle couldn't hold back her tears any longer and succumbed to a sobbing breakdown. That night, her sleep was restless and disturbed. In the later hours, she found herself dreaming of their earlier days when she and Adrian hadn't been at odds. Awoken by her troubled sleep, Joelle rose unusually early. After freshening up, she slipped into some casual clothes and made her way downstairs. Leah Jenkins, the long-serving maid, noticed Joelle descending and promptly set the table with breakfast, familiar with all her dietary preferences. Joelle took her time with breakfast, eating slowly and deliberately. "Mrs. Miller, why didn't you convince Mr. Miller to stay last night? It's not often he comes home," Leah commented, her tone reflecting sympathy for Joelle. Leah had been a servant of the Miller family for many years, witnessing the growth of Joelle and Adrian from childhood friends to the enemies they were now. A pang of discomfort briefly crossed Joelle's features before she masked it with a composed smile. "I tried, but he didn't stay," she admitted. Even if she could keep Adrian close physically, his heart was elsewhere. His affections lay at Oak Villas, home to the one he truly cherished. Leah hesitated before speaking again, her tone careful. "Maybe it's because Mr. Miller is so tied up with the company. Running such a massive business takes a lot of his time." After being reassigned to attend to Joelle three years ago, Leah had come to understand the nuances of this marriage better than anyone. Her insight brought with it a heartfelt sympathy for Joelle. Joelle's eyelashes quivered as she nibbled on her toast, her eyes watering slightly from the emotional strain. Yes, Adrian was preoccupied, but he always made time for Rebecca. He frequented Redemption Church to seek a blessing charm for her. Despite his hectic schedule, he never missed spending holidays with her. Just then, Joelle's phone broke the silence. As Leah left the dining room, Joelle picked up her phone and found her best friend, Katherine Nash, calling. "Katherine, I want a divorce," Joelle said in a raspy voice. Chapter 2 On Its Last Legs Joelle made up her mind--she wanted a divorce. There was no point in dragging this out any longer. After a moment of stunned silence, Katherine let out a shrill burst of laughter. "Are you going to get half of Adrian's assets? Oh, my God! Joelle, you're about to become a billionaire!" "No, I can't." Joelle had signed an agreement when she and Adrian married. If they divorced, she would get nothing. "Then why the hell are you divorcing? Just keep being his wife!" Joelle recalled Adrian's roughness the previous night and the humiliation that followed. She had been so naive in the past, believing that her love for Adrian could help her endure any hardship. But now, looking back, she realized how foolish she had been. Did suffering ever make Adrian love her more? The answer was no. A man who genuinely loved her would never let her suffer in the first place. Joelle laughed at herself mockingly and changed the subject. "By the way, remember the favor I asked you last time?" "Yes. I was going to tell you about that. You asked me to keep an eye out for a job, and I've got something for you. You'll be teaching a student to play the violin, though I must say, it'll be a waste of your talent." "That's fine," Joelle replied with a faint smile. "It's not a waste at all. I've been a housewife for three years. Just having someone willing to hire me is enough." "How is it not a waste? You were so close to becoming a part of an international orchestra. If it weren't for getting married..." Katherine trailed off, feeling indignant for her friend. After getting married, Joelle wasn't even allowed to work. These wealthy families clung to such outdated rules. The whole situation was ridiculous. Three years ago, Joelle's violin career had been on the rise. However, the Miller family's strict traditions forbade her from performing in public. On the very first day of her marriage, Adrian's mother had told her, "You don't need to work. Adrian will provide for you. Your job is to give birth to his babies and take care of your husband." Once her call with Katherine ended, Joelle went upstairs and retrieved her long-neglected violin from the study. This violin was a special gift from her father on her eighteenth birthday. Tragically, not long after she had received it, her father had suffered a stroke and fallen into a coma. Her older brother had taken on the responsibility of supporting their family. He had let her pursue her dreams of playing the violin without worries. As she reminisced about the past, Joelle drew the bow across the strings. Years ago, an accident had injured her wrist, and she hadn't played since. Now, as she played, sharp pain shot through her wrist, but she persisted. She relied on muscle memory to play a short piece. In the end, she gave a bitter laugh. It sounded terrible. Just then, she heard Leah's voice at the door, filled with surprise and delight. "Sir, you're back!" Leah was secretly relieved to see Adrian. His returning home must mean he still cared for Joelle. Perhaps if Joelle said something kind, their relationship might improve. Meanwhile, Joelle was surprised. Adrian rarely came home during the day. She had just set down her violin when the door swung open. Adrian stood in the doorway, his tall frame imposing. With furrowed brows, his eyes swept over her. He remembered that Joelle had learned to play the violin as a child and had been praised for her talent by a renowned teacher. But for some reason, she had stopped playing. Having listened from outside just now, he found her playing mediocre. How could anyone have praised her talent? Joelle glanced at him and lowered her head to place the violin back in its case. Then, in a low voice, she asked, "What brings you here? Is there anything you need?" "I came to pick up something and remind you that we need to visit Grandma tomorrow," Adrian replied in a cold tone. Visiting his grandmother at least once a month was a family rule. Tomorrow was the day. If not for this obligation, Adrian wouldn't have returned at all. If he and Joelle didn't show up together, Irene would be upset. Joelle smiled bitterly. She remembered the Miller family rules better than Adrian and always adhered to them. Even Irene, stringent as ever, couldn't find fault with her. "I haven't forgotten. I'm relieved to know you haven't either," Joelle responded. Her tone carried a hint of accusation, making Adrian sneer. For a moment, a simmering anger brewed within him. Without another word, he headed straight to the walk-in closet to look for something. Even though he rarely came home, Joelle still maintained his wardrobe meticulously--clothes washed, ironed, and neatly arranged. Joelle felt her role was reduced to performing household chores, something Leah could also manage. Her only advantage, perhaps, was that she was younger and prettier than Leah. Her eyes followed Adrian's movements. His ring finger was bare--the wedding ring nowhere to be seen. A sharp pang of pain shot through her heart. "Adrian, let's get a divorce," Joelle suddenly said, her voice as soft as a breeze. Saying those words drained all her strength, yet she felt a strange relief wash over her. Adrian turned around and stared at her with a mocking smile. "Think carefully before you speak. The Watson family is now on its last legs. Without my support, do you plan to sleep on the streets with your brother after the divorce?" Since the Watson family's downfall, Joelle had gone from being cherished to ridiculed. The Miller family despised her and looked down on her as if she and her brother were leeches they couldn't shake off. Even her intimate moments with Adrian made her feel degraded. Joelle bit her lip and straightened up. "I've already rented a place. Even if I ended up sleeping on the streets, that would be on me." All she wanted was for Adrian to respect her, but three years of captivity had worn down her pride and dignity. "And where did you get the money to rent a place? If you wanted to be independent so badly, you shouldn't have spent a single penny from the Miller family." Adrian, with his back to Joelle, found the missing wedding ring in a gap and held it in his palm. Joelle didn't notice. His words left her breathless. Yes, she had used her meager savings to rent the place. But since she was married to Adrian, wasn't what was hers also his? Besides, the financial support Adrian had given the Watson family over the years amounted to a significant sum. Joelle had always despised the idea of owing Adrian anything, yet her debt to him was the deepest. If they divorced, he would likely sever all financial support to the Watson family. Was he suggesting she would have to exit the marriage empty-handed? As Adrian turned to leave, Joelle called out to him, her dignity barely intact. "I'm legally entitled to this marriage and have a rightful claim to what's supposed to be mine. But don't worry, I won't ask for much--just enough to help Watson Group get through this crisis." Adrian froze, his features sharpening. His lips formed a thin line, and his jaw clenched. These were clear signs of his brewing anger. Even though Joelle had mentally braced herself, she couldn't withstand the intensity of his rage. Each moment under his stern gaze intensified her anxiety. Just then, his phone rang. Adrian pulled it from his pocket and began to walk away. "Adrian!" Chapter 3 I Will Always Hold My Head High Adrian's frustration crackled in the air like static. "If your brother needs money, tell him to march straight to Miller Group." "That's not what this is about!" Joelle retorted. He misunderstood her completely. Joelle hurried after him, her heart pounding with urgency. "Adrian, I want a divorce!" At those words, Adrian stopped going upstairs and turned his head; the phone in his hand fell silent too. At six feet three inches, Adrian towered over Joelle. His gaze was cold, and when he spoke, his voice dripped with mockery. "Joelle, can't you come up with a better game than this endless push-and-pull? If you're serious about a divorce, why don't you tell Grandma yourself? If not, don't ever let me hear that word from you again!" The door slammed shut behind him, the finality of it echoing. Joelle leaned against the wall, her legs giving out beneath her until she slid to the floor. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Their marriage had been crafted by Irene. Adrian had been forced into it, and Joelle knew it all too well. If she truly wanted a divorce, she knew talking to Irene would be the most effective route. But a small, foolish part of her had clung to the hope that she and Adrian were a real couple. That was why she had brought it up with him first--she saw him as her husband. But she had forgotten one crucial detail: Adrian had never been willing to marry her. From the start, his reluctance had been clear, though she had tried to overlook it. His last words to her weren't just dismissive--they were a command. If she was serious, she should confront Irene herself. Joelle took a shower, dressed in fresh clothes, and steeled herself to visit Irene. Irene was strict, authoritative, and feared by the entire family. She ruled with an iron fist, and disobedience was not tolerated. But Joelle shared a unique bond with her. Part of the reason Joelle had agreed to marry Adrian was to fulfill Irene's expectations. She had wanted to care for Adrian, build a home, and ensure that Irene could pass away without regret. But now, she couldn't hold on any longer. Watching Adrian lavish attention on another woman filled Joelle with a wave of bitterness that threatened to consume her. She knew Adrian didn't love her. He never had, and he never would! Just as she was about to leave, her phone rang. It was her brother, Shawn Watson. "Shawn? What's wrong?" "Mrs. Miller!" It was Shawn's assistant, and his voice was panicked--something Joelle had never heard before. Her blood ran cold, and she gripped the phone tighter as she stood at the bottom of the staircase. "Where's Shawn? What happened to him?" "Last night, Mr. Watson attended a business meeting where he was pressured to drink heavily. He was supposed to come home, but Erick Lloyd insisted on taking him to a hot spring." Joelle froze, fury surging through her veins. "Did Erick not realize that could kill him?" "Erick is a loose cannon! He's been throwing his weight around ever since his father and brother were chauffeurs for the Miller family. Mrs. Miller, you need to come quickly! Mr. Watson is still in surgery, and the doctors have issued two critical condition notices. I couldn't hold out any longer before calling you!" His voice cracked as he neared the brink of tears. Joelle knew he wouldn't have reached out unless the situation was truly desperate. Shawn had always protected her from bad news, no matter how grim the circumstances. If the assistant was this shaken, Shawn's life must be teetering on the edge. Joelle felt as if the world was closing in around her, her voice strangled in her throat. She missed the last step and tumbled hard, her ankle twisting sharply. The searing pain snapped her back to reality, tears instantly welling up in her eyes. "Oh no! Mrs. Miller, how could you not be watching your steps?" Leah rushed over and helped Joelle to her feet. Joelle clutched Leah's arm, her vision blurred by tears. She tried to speak, but the words came out choked and broken between sobs. "My brother... I have to see him at the hospital!" Sensing the urgency in her voice, Leah didn't hesitate. "Alright, don't worry. I'll get the driver to take you right away!" Leah was a seasoned and dependable maid who had served the Miller family for years. Within five minutes, the car was parked before the villa. As Joelle was about to step into the car, she turned to Leah. "Please, don't tell Irene about this. I don't want to worry her." Leah's heart softened at Joelle's words. Even in her pale, tear-streaked state, Joelle was thinking of Irene's well-being. What a rare and remarkable girl she was! "Don't worry, Mrs. Miller. I know what to do. Go see your brother." When Joelle arrived at the hospital, Shawn had just been wheeled out of surgery. Seeing Shawn hooked up to tubes and wires, the assistant nearly crumpled to the floor. As Joelle approached, she found him kneeling against the wall, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. She held back the urge to scold him for not protecting Shawn better. There would be time for that later. Once Shawn's condition stabilized, Joelle pulled the assistant aside. "Tell me everything--how did this happen?" The assistant hesitated, his face drawn with worry. "Mrs. Miller, Mr. Watson specifically instructed us not to involve you in business matters." "This is a matter of life and death. Do you still think keeping me in the dark is an option?" Joelle's patience snapped, and she turned to walk away. "Mrs. Miller, it's no use." The assistant's voice was heavy with despair. "You know that ever since your father passed, Watson Group has rested entirely on Mr. Watson's shoulders. He's been fighting to uphold the family's dignity so that your life in the Miller family would be easier." For three years, Shawn had fought valiantly to keep the family afloat. However, without Adrian's financial backing, their efforts would have crumbled long ago. Shawn's deepest wish was for Joelle to live comfortably, but despite his relentless efforts, he could never win her the respect she deserved from her husband. No matter how much Shawn sacrificed, Joelle would remain undervalued in the Miller family. Joelle's anger simmered, yet she knew she couldn't change her reality. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "Did you mention my relationship with Adrian?" She hoped that aligning herself with the Miller family could help Shawn stand his ground. "Mr. Watson refuses to bring it up. He's afraid it will only make things harder for you." Joelle let out a bitter laugh. From the beginning, she had never been able to stand on equal footing with Adrian. No wonder he despised her--she could barely tolerate herself. Just an hour ago, she had resolved to ask for a divorce. Now, she found herself clinging to Adrian's name, desperate to make life easier for Shawn. "Tell Shawn I'm Adrian Miller's wife, the one Irene handpicked. As long as I'm Mrs. Miller, I will hold my head high in the Miller family!" Footsteps echoed behind her. Joelle turned and locked eyes with Adrian's cold gaze. Beside him stood a frail-looking girl with wide, innocent eyes, clinging to Adrian openly. Adrian's glance at Joelle was filled with cold disdain, as if even acknowledging her presence was an effort. This cunning woman had dgged him into marriage. With such deceitful tactics, how could she easily walk away from this union? The same marriage served as a lifeline for her struggling family. He had given Watson Group a hundred million each year. Joelle would be a fool to risk losing that by actually divorcing him. Chapter 4 She Finally Figured It Out Joelle had long since grown numb to Adrian's cold indifference. She quietly observed their intertwined arms, her thoughts drifting to the sweet moments captured in Rebecca's videos that had made many envious. What a perfect couple they made! The thought struck Joelle like a kife, and suddenly, she felt like the real third wheel. "Joelle, please don't get things wrong!" Rebecca's voice was laced with urgency as she quickly withdrew her hand from Adrian's arm. "I'm not well and can't walk far. Adie was just being kind enough to support me." Joelle managed a faint smile. "What brings you to the hospital?" she asked Adrian, deliberately ignoring Rebecca's explanation. If there was one thing Joelle had learned, it was that the best revenge against the other woman was to act as if she didn't exist. "It's about Erick," Rebecca interjected, her hands clasped in front of her like a repentant child. "I also came to say sorry to you, Joelle. Sorry about Erick being so careless and causing your brother to end up in the hospital." Joelle retorted, "Did I hear careless? Your brother nearly killed mine, and you think an apology is enough to make it right?" Rebecca flinched, instinctively clutching Adrian's sleeve for support. Adrian's voice was as cold as winter when he finally spoke. "That's enough, Joelle. It wasn't intentional." Then he turned to Rebecca, and his tone softened. "Let's go. Aren't you here to see Erick?" A wave of icy realization washed over Joelle. She had hoped naively that Adrian was here to check on Shawn. But no, he was just here for Rebecca, to see Erick. Even if he did stop by to see Shawn, it would only be out of obligation, nothing more. She knew better than to expect Adrian to defend her. "Rebecca, I won't forget what Erick did!" Joelle said. Rebecca's legs buckled, and she collapsed against Adrian's chest. He caught her just in time, holding her close. "Joelle, Erick didn't mean any harm. He's in the hospital too!" "Is he dead? If not, he has to pay for what he's done!" Joelle rarely lashed out, but today was different. Shawn was basically the only family she had left. Her father, incapacitated by a stroke, lay in a vegetative state with little or no hope of recovering, and her mother had perished in a car accident. Since she was eighteen, it had been just her and Shawn, facing the world together. During their darkest hours, Shawn had carried the burden alone, allowing Joelle to pursue her passion for the violin. Now, the thought of losing him too was unbearable. She wished nothing more than for Erick to die. "Joelle, how can you say that?" Rebecca sobbed, her voice trembling with disbelief. Adrian's patience snapped, and his eyes turned cold as they locked onto Joelle. "What do you want?" "Shawn received two critical condition notices. How about Erick?" Rebecca gasped, clinging to Adrian as if he were the only thing keeping her from collapsing, her fragile body trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Joelle, please! I only have one brother left. Show mercy, please!" She fainted before Joelle could respond, leaving no room for further argument. Adrian scooped Rebecca up, his eyes filled with cold reproach as he looked at Joelle one last time. He walked away, leaving Joelle standing there, rooted to the spot, unable to move or even think for what felt like an eternity. Before their marriage, she had been the cherished girl, but afterward, she had reduced herself to the role of Adrian's servant. Looking back, she realized how naive she had been. She used to be such a proud person, but now she endures all kinds of grievances just to please her husband. How pathetic! It's been three years, it's time to divorce and start a new life... ...... What happens next? Available chapters here are limited, click the button below to install the App and enjoy more exciting chapters (Automatically jump to this novel when you open the app) &13&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60520322-fb_contact-e	Hello Read	https://www.facebook.com/61550873765205/	1,002	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.moboreader.net	IMAGE		https://fbweb.moboreader.net/60520322-fb_contact-ena220_2-0918-core3.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1435595577085911&rawadid=120214123828380597	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/468756755_1099688215495298_2872251058743337884_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=xfmbKs32b9QQ7kNvgEEYOTj&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A9r31HmW-VyIvw50v7Z6VlB&oh=00_AYCwzEYMnCZlP1L8csvJR5Qgcnph0DVbaK76lZAx3mQqBQ&oe=67602527	PERSON_PROFILE	Hello Read	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,424	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642264}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:16	active	1993	Read more FREE chapters👉	This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life. After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now. But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs. I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone. As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.” His words gave me icy chills. “You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued. “He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?! I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs. “Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world. “Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said. “Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation. I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry. After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was. I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy? I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model. After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight? At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”! “Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away. Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger. I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us. The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover. When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick. “Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort. He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall. Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.” I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression. Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”. Chapter 2 - Hope Noah My heart sank when Owen picked up the phone. The screen clearly said “Josie”. He answered: “Hello? Yes, of course, sir. I can take a look at those documents for you.” I couldn't believe Owen was lying to my face. He glanced at me, then quickly walked over to the kitchen. When he thought I couldn't hear him, his voice softened. He sounded so sweet. Although I couldn’t hear his words, the way he spoke to Josie reminded me of the beginning of our romance. Owen was still trying to hide his betrayal from me. He must have forgotten that he gave away his secret last night, when he called me Josie. Those pictures on my phone left no doubt. He was cheating on me, with my best friend. I leaned up against the wall. I felt weakened by my fever and this emotional rollercoaster. I stared at my husband as he came back inside the living room. He avoided my eyes. It felt as if he had become a stranger. In the past, he would’ve never let me suffer like this. “I’ll pick you up later.” Owen said, ready to go. I grabbed his hand and begged him to stay with me. “Please, don’t leave. I'm sick, Owen. I need to see a doctor. I’m too weak to be all by myself.” He was very impatient. He said he had some important business to deal with. I couldn’t help crying as I watched him leave. My husband and my best friend were betraying me, behind my back. I walked up the stairs slowly, carefully holding on to the railing. I was so weak and fragile. Bed rest was my best option right now. I really needed my husband to take care of me. When we got married, he vowed to me: “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad”. This was definitely a bad time, and he was nowhere to be seen. When I woke up from my nap, I felt even worse. In my feverish haze, I reached for my phone and tried to call Owen. I opened my recent contacts and found that Owen had not had any calls with me these days at all. I had to open the contact list to look for him, but a few minutes later I dialed out with a headache and dizziness. Almost immediately I heard: “Hello, Noah?” The voice on the phone sounded very deep. I figured Owen got a cold after his late night out. “I’m so sick, I’m so weak. I need to get to the hospital. Please, come back, please…” I pleaded, my voice weak and trembling. “I’ll be right there.” Said the voice on the phone and hung up right away. His voice sounded different from before. And his tone was a little urgent. What’s wrong? I didn’t have enough energy to think about it. At least he might still care about me. That comforted me a lot. Before long, there was a heavy knock on the door. Did Owen leave his key? I opened the door, expecting to look into Owen's gray eyes, but found Raymond's kind, hazel brown eyes instead. What was he doing here? Raymond was Owen’s uncle. He was only several years older, but very mature. He was tall, tanned and handsome. His chocolate brown hair matched his eyes. With his strong, square jaw and muscular body. I always thought Owen was one of the most attractive men I knew. It wasn't until Raymond’s appearance that I realized how dominant the handsome genes are in this family in terms of good looking. After living in Australia for most of his life, he had come back several years ago to take over his family’s business. By now, he was the most successful CEO in the city. Although all women admired him, he remained single. “Does Owen know you’re sick?” Raymond said, looking concerned. “How did you know I'm sick? Do I look that terrible?” I asked, suddenly aware that I was only wearing my little nightgown, had no make-up on and had my hair up in a messy bun. Raymond smiled. “Don't worry, Noah. I got your call earlier.” Oops, I must have pressed the number of “Owen’s Boss” instead of “Owen”. I apologized for the inconvenience. “You are a member of our family, Noah. It’s my duty to take care of you. And you are never an inconvenience to me.” Raymond said as he took me by the arm to support me. He led me to his streamlined, dark gray Mercedes to drive me to the hospital. I sat down on the cream colored leather seat. His car smelled brand new. The seat was heated, which helped warm me up, but I was still shivering. Raymond took off his suede blazer and handed it to me. His simple act of kindness made me feel warm, inside and out. “Thank you, Raymond. This means a lot to me.” I said with a relieved sigh. “Of course, Noah. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” He responded. He still had a slight Australian accent. He asked me what happened. I wouldn’t have shared my family’s private problems with another man who I didn’t even know very well. But at that time, I was on the very edge of a breakdown. I really needed someone to talk to. Yet when I lost two of my closest persons on the same day, my husband and my best friend, who else could I talk to? “I don’t think Owen loves me as much as before. It seems that he has some secrets with another woman, who used to be my best girlfriend. I couldn't sleep all night. I think that's what caused my fever.” I concluded. I was in tears again by the time I finished the story. “How could they do this to you? You are the best thing that's ever happened to Owen. If he can't see that, he is an even bigger idiot than I thought!” Raymond shouted out. His shocked, angry expression showed me how much he cared. “Please, don't say a word about this to Owen. I haven't confronted him yet. I need to do this myself.” I responded. We sat quietly for a while, his hand resting very close to my thigh. I felt so weak and miserable. But his presence helped. When seeing the private doctor, I tried to get out of the car but almost fell. Raymond flung an arm around me, just in time to catch me. I blushed as I looked up to him. My face was very close to his. His piercing eyes looked at me with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. I smelled something fresh. It might be his aftershave. I remembered Owen also used it, and I always told he that I love what he smelled. But I found Raymond’s aftershave smelled a little special. “Raymond? Noah? What are you doing?!” I suddenly heard Owen’s angry voice. Chapter 3 - Truth Noah Raymond quickly let go of me as Owen approached us. Just before taking a step back. I stumbled over to my husband. I wanted to lean on him for support, but he didn’t seem to care about me at all. All I could read on his face was anger. I tried to be strong and stand by myself, shivering with fever. “So, you’ve got a new love, huh? I saw you flirting with my uncle!” Owen spat his angry words at me. I turned pale. How could he say this to me? Especially after what he had done? I wasn’t the one who couldn’t be trusted! “Owen! How dare you talk to her like that! It’s not our family’s manner!” Raymond berated him. He was fuming with rage at the injustice. He also knew about Owen's betrayal. Owen was a little timid when Raymond got angry. Although Raymond was only 31 years old, he had become a successful CEO. He had idolized Raymond when he was a child. And now, Raymond was also his boss. Owen had recently started working at his company. Raymond’s fists were clenched and his tense muscles were visible through his buttoned up shirt. He looked like he was about to hit Owen. I didn’t want them to fight over me, so I tried to calm them both down. “Raymond, it’s okay. Owen will take me in to see a doctor. Thank you for driving me here.” I said gratefully. ‘Please, don’t say anything about Josie’, I tried to tell him mentally through the look in my eyes. He nodded slightly, as if he understood. He relaxed and his eyes softened when he looked at me. I turned back to my angry husband. I couldn’t detect any sign of trust in his eyes. I supposed he should be concerned about my health rather than the relationship between me and Raymond. “Owen, I can explain. I tried to call you, but I was so sick I accidentally dialed Raymond’s number. He brought me to see the doctor. You should be grateful to him. Without him I would still be miserable in bed, all alone.” Owen grabbed me and said, “Well, I was just on my way to come and get you. Then I saw you get out of uncle Raymond's car and ‘fall’ right into his arms.” He looked at Raymond with an arrogant smirk. “You can go back to your important job now, uncle. I’ll look after my wife.” Raymond’s eyes were cold, but he respected my wishes. He didn't object. After warning Owen that he’d better take good care of me, he got back in his car and drove off. Although I was glad I could lean on Owen, something didn't feel right. I realized I was still wearing his suede jacket. It was so soft and warm, protecting me from the cold autumn wind. When the doctor dealt with my fever, Owen didn’t want to speak to me, let alone look at me. He was engaging himself in typing on his phone. The doctor told me I shouldn't have waited much longer. My fever was so high I could have fainted. After getting examined and taking medicine for my fever, Owen drove me home. We sat next to each other in our car that held many memories. All our road trips and getaways together. Those times were over now. After an uncomfortable silence, I decided to address the elephant in the room. “Owen… What is going on? Do you still love me? Do you still regard me as your wife?” I asked. “So what? Whose wife do you want to be?” Owen hissed. I couldn't believe how horrible he was to me after what he had done. “I know you cheated on me, Owen.” I uttered with pain in my voice. “You’ve been seeing Josie, right?” Owen stopped the car with a jerk and pulled over. We sat in silence for a while as he processed my words. “What do you know, Noah?” he pressed, looking me in the eyes at last. I finally confronted him about all the things that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I explained: “Someone sent me photos of the two of you together. The first time, they didn't show your face. So I didn’t want to believe it. But in the ones I received yesterday, it was clearly you. All those nights, when you told me you had to leave town for business... You lied to me. You spent them at a hotel with another woman! Then, last night, you kissed me and called me Josie. And this morning, I saw it was her calling you. You pretended it was a client. “Owen, we have grown up together since we were kids. I always thought we knew each other the most and could trust each other. I can’t believe you would cheat me like that!” I cried, “Owen, did you fall in love with another woman... Is she my best friend Josie?!” His eyes showed a moment of doubt. Then, resolution. His mouth tightened as he clenched his jaw. Just when I thought he wouldn’t answer, Owen said: “It’s true. I love her. I love Josie.” Chapter 4 - Hurt Noah I just couldn't accept it. I loved him so much. How could he cheat on me? “Why, Owen? I thought we loved each other. I thought we would be together forever. Did I do something wrong?” I cried. Owen didn't respond. He drove us home in silence. His cruelty was too much for me to bear. I stared at the raindrops on the window. I felt more depressed than ever. That afternoon, Owen left again. I tried having some food and a nap, hoping that would help me heal. But I just couldn't fall asleep until Owen came back home in the early evening. I had to talk to him. I got out of bed and met him at the top of the stairs. “Owen, we need to talk about what happened. You can't keep going out and avoiding me.” He was obviously drunk again. All he said was, “I don’t have anything to say to you. I am moving out, Noah. I supposed our years of marriage is a mistake!” I took his hands in mine and begged him to stay and try to work it out. But he shook off my hands and pushed me away. I was standing right on the edge of the staircase. His push made me lose balance, and I tumbled down the stairs. I managed to grab onto the railing so I didn’t fall all the way down. But my head hit the wall when I tried to break my fall. I felt my forehead was bleeding. It was so painful that I couldn’t get up. I thought Owen would help me, but only heard: “You lost your footing. It’s not my fault.” There was a sudden knock on the door. Owen stumbled past me down the stairs. “Raymond? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time.” “I came to ask you what is going on. You need to give me an explanation. You haven’t … Noah?” Raymond suddenly saw me sitting on the stairs behind Owen. He pushed Owen aside and ran over to me in alarm. Seeing my messy hair and injured forehead, he instantly knew what happened between us. He punched Owen in the face. “This is how you treat your wife?! I don’t believe you. Don’t you see Noah is bleeding? Did you hurt her? What a disgusting thing you smelled! You drunk idiot!” Raymond raged at his nephew. I didn’t even have time to explain. Raymond immediately wrapped me up in his suit jacket and took me to see the doctor. “Twice in one day? That must be a record.” The doctor said wearily. I gave her a wry grin and answered, “Not by choice…” The doctor took care of my wounds. I needed a couple of stitches and had some pretty bad bruises, but I would be okay. Thankfully, I didn't break any bones. It was getting dark outside. The autumn breeze was busy blowing the leaves off the maple trees surrounding the hospital parking lot. Raymond and I made our way back to the car. Our feet rustled through the thick carpet of yellow, brown and scarlet red leaves. After my second - and hopefully last - doctor's visit of the day, we sat next to each other in silence. We were back in his beautiful Mercedes. I could get used to these comfortable, heated seats. I felt a bit embarrassed. Raymond kept on having to save me. At least this time, I was wearing clothes and make-up, and my brown hair was neatly tied in a long, wavy ponytail. “I don’t normally need so much help, you know.” I broke the ice. “I happen to be a strong, independent woman most of the time.” Raymond laughed heartily. “Jokes aside, I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me.” I continued. “Why did you come over tonight, Raymond?” “Owen hadn’t come to work at the company for days. And I wanted to speak to him about what happened this morning, with you. I tried to call him, but he never answered. I decided to come over. To see for myself what was wrong with him.” Raymond explained. “I just can’t believe what he did to you!” He continued. “If he ever does anything like that again, please tell me. I’ll teach him a lesson.” His stern face showed how much he meant it. I took a deep breath. He had a way of making me feel safe and secure. “Thank you, Raymond. I’m okay now. It was an accident. Owen didn’t push me off the stairs on purpose. He didn’t mean to hurt me.” I explained. Raymond looked a little angry, but he still carefully drove me home. “Goodbye, Raymond. Thank you again, for everything.” I said with feeling as he hugged me. “Bye, Noah. It’s been my pleasure. Please be safe. Call me if you need anything.” He said. He gently patted me on my head as comfort as if I was a little girl and got back in his car. His simple actions made me feel warm. I thanked him and walked home. I entered the house. It was quiet and dark downstairs. I walked up to our room. When I opened our bedroom door, all I could see was Owen and Josie kissing on the bed. Chapter 5 - The Necklace Noah I couldn’t believe my eyes! While the hours I was leaving, my husband was screwing with my best friend in my room! Didn’t he remember I got hurt because of him?! How ridiculous! Even though I had seen Owen and Josie’s betrayal before in photos, witnessing it in real life was way worse. It felt like a million knives stabbed me in the chest. My heart shattered. “How dare you cheat on me in our home! In our own bed, for God’s sake!” I cried out. They hadn’t heard me open the bedroom door over the romantic music that was playing. They turned around with shocked looks on their faces. If I wasn’t so devastated, it might’ve been funny. Owen's mouth had lipstick smears all over it, and Josie’s blonde hair was disheveled. They were both in their underwear. Clothes were spread out all over our bedroom floor. I tried to hold back my tears. I didn't want to show them my pain. My crying might come across as weakness. I demanded an explanation. “I don’t believe this. Owen! Did you forget I am your wife?! Josie, why did you betray me too?! I treat you as my best friend. How dare you take my husband away from me!” I insisted. Josie hid away in Owen’s arms. Owen comforted her gently, then snapped at me: “You’ve already seen us together anyway, haven't you, Noah?” “I am done with you.” He continued. “Our whole relationship was based on a lie. Josie should’ve been with me all along!” I didn’t understand. “What are you talking about, Owen?” He held up a delicate golden necklace with a tear shaped ruby that had been resting on Josie’s collarbone. “Remember this, Noah? The truth has finally come out. It was Josie who saved my life all those years ago, not you. You pretended that it was you in front of my parents. You’ve made her suffer long enough!” I was shocked. Why did Josie have my necklace? I couldn't believe her betrayal. I tried to explain to Owen that I lost that necklace before I was adopted by his family. I told him I would never lie to him. Especially about something so important. But Owen didn’t believe me. “Josie,” I cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you steal my necklace? You know how much it means to me! We’ve been best friends since the orphanage, haven’t we? Does that mean nothing to you?” “Noah, you know this necklace has always belonged to me. I was the one who saved Owen. But you stole my life to be adopted,”Josie played innocent with me, “I should have been the one who grew up with Owen! I see you as my sister, so I never attempted to reveal your lie until Owen found this necklace in my old jewelry box several months ago.” This convinced Owen even more that I had been bullying her. He wrapped his arms around her. Over his shoulder, when he couldn’t see, Josie gave me a quick, mean smirk. I knew Josie had a mean side. She always had, even when we were kids. But so far, she had only taken it out on her boyfriends and whoever got on her bad side, not on me. I never thought she might treat me in such a mean way! I had searched everywhere but couldn't find my necklace. It turned out that she was the thief who was always around me. How could she tell such outrageous lies as if it were natural？ I left the bedroom, rushed downstairs and broke down on the couch. Oh, what a nightmare! How could I make Owen see the truth? A little later, Owen and Josie came downstairs, all dressed up again. Josie was wearing her Prada pumps and the sleek, mint green dress I gifted her for her birthday. It accentuated her long legs and slender silhouette. I had to admit, she looked beautiful. I used to dress in a simple way such as simple jeans, white blouse and sneakers. Maybe I looked less attractive compared to Josie. Owen had an arm around Josie’s waist and warned me, “You’d better stay out of our life from now on. I’ll move to another villa with Josie.” I couldn't believe it. After 3 years of marriage, he trusted her story over mine. And now he wanted nothing to do with me. We used to be happily married. Our whole lives, ever since I saved him, we had been so close. We used to laugh together, cry together, play pranks on each other… But now, everything changed, simply because of a necklace. In fact, “necklace” is just an excuse for his betrayal. I didn’t believe our years of affection couldn’t prove my heart. “Noah, my life was ruined by you. You owe me that.” Josie said. “One day you’ll both regret this. I didn’t do anything wrong.” I sobbed. As they walked out, I faintly heard Owen reply: “It’s my fault. I should have found you earlier, or you wouldn’t have suffered so much.” I could only guess at his last insult as the door closed behind them. I zoned out in front of the TV and poured myself some of Owen’s whisky. The past couple of days had been the worst of my life ever since I lost my parents. My body and mind had been through so much. I felt numb. I must have fallen asleep on the couch. The sudden loud jingle of my phone ringing woke me up. The bright midmorning sun was shining in through the large windows. Looks like I slept in late. Disoriented, I picked up my phone and saw it was Owen calling. I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. Before I could say a word, I heard Owen’s angry shouting: “How dare you do this to Josie! Those guys you hired? You must pay for what you have done!” Chapter 6 - Choice Noah “What?! What guys? I just woke up, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I replied to the angry voice on the phone. “More lies! I can’t believe you, Noah. You're despicable!” Owen shouted. He was so loud, I had to move the phone away from my ear. “Owen, please calm down. All I remember is you leaving with Josie last night. I fell asleep on the couch. What happened?” “Josie is in the hospital because of you. I demand that you come here right now and apologize to her!” He ended the call before I could reply. What was this about? Would my life ever go back to normal? I decided to find out what was going on. My fever was over. Although my head still hurt, the wound was healing rapidly. I took a refreshing shower and got into a pencil skirt and light blue blouse. I combed my hair and decided to wear it in natural loose waves today. After a quick breakfast, I slipped into my high heels and coat, and made my way to my car. It was a crisp sunny day. I arrived at the hospital. At least it wasn't me who needed to see the doctor this time. “Oh, it’s our ‘old friend’.” The nurse said jokingly. I smiled as she directed me to Josie’s room. As soon as I knocked on the door, Owen opened it with an enraged look on his face. “Finally! That took you long enough.” He whispered angrily. “Josie is sleeping.” He came out and gently closed the door behind him. We walked towards the chairs in the hallway. “I have no idea what happened, Owen.” I said honestly. “Can you please tell me what is going on? Some guys attacked her?” “Are you still pretending you weren't behind this? You are unbelievable.” He shook his head, then continued. “Josie was attacked by some hooligans this morning, on her way to work. She shouted out and fainted from fear. Thankfully, a police officer was nearby. He heard her scream. She has a heavy concussion from the fall. She'll have to stay here a few days to recover.” “What? That's horrible!” I replied in shock. Although I was angry with Josie, I wouldn't wish this on anyone. “Stop your act now, Noah. Those guys were arrested. They told the police someone paid them to kidnap Josie, because she broke up a marriage.” No wonder he doubted me. But I couldn’t believe the trust between us was so fragile. “Would you believe me if I swore to you it wasn't me?” I asked with a last glimmer of hope. His reply made it clear to me that there was no hope left for us: “Never again will I believe a single word you say, Noah.” I refused to apologize. I didn't have anything to do with this. If anyone needed to stand out and make an apology, it was them for what they had done to me！ On my way out, I contacted a friend who had lots of connections all over the city. I asked her to investigate the situation. I also called the office on my way home, to let them know I was still recovering from my fever and head wound. My boss was understanding. She told me to take as long as I needed. In the evening, Owen came home just as I was about to have dinner. “I didn’t prepare your dinner. I guess you would have dinner with Josie?” I said plainly. I didn’t know why he came back at this time, but I didn’t care about it anymore. He ignored my words and said, “You still don’t want to apologize, right? You have two choices, Noah. Apologize and make amends with Josie, or divorce me and get out of this house!” “Josie is the one who betrayed us both. She lied to you, Owen. She stole my necklace. She is the one who should apologize!” I argued. Owen burst out in rage and slapped me in the face. I stared at him in disbelief. I was totally disappointed. Over the past few days he had hit me, pushed me, cheated on me. He had hurt me in every way. I made up my mind. “I choose divorce.” I said coldly. “Good. My lawyer will contact you in the next morning,”Owen said ruthlessly with a wicked smile, “Oh, I’ve prepared another ‘surprise’ for you. Hope you will enjoy it!”	LEARN_MORE	https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&u	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61559743679549/	321	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	redtgb.com	DCO		https://redtgb.com/market/goodnovel/1?lpid=14837&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/t39.35426-6/463746090_1935842656910759_3812755172762740403_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=106&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=39OWm9I5EZsQ7kNvgGfGiNu&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=Af2lTknhqAzAoo7Vei5y4xz&oh=00_AYDAkjZfgL06uv4SYawKPqt02cwblGXen_SvDSdZJ_Rivg&oe=67601688	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,643,328	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642880}'	No	2024-12-11 21:27	active	1993	Sat, Dec 14th - Free Holiday Concert Performance! - RSVP	𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐑𝐆𝐕, 🎄🎶 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐃𝐌 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭! This Saturday, December 14th, from 8 p.m. to 9 p.m. - 12 live performances, including an epic guitar-shredding cover of Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Carol of the Bells"! - Ugly Sweater Contest with 3 winners! - Snap family photos in front of our Christmas-themed backdrop! No cost, just fun and festive vibes! Bring your family and friends for a night you won’t regret. 𝐇𝐢𝐭 “𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐮𝐩” 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠! 🎅	SIGN_UP	http://fb.me/	The Door McAllen	https://www.facebook.com/thedoormcallentx/	2,030	1969-12-31 18:00	Sign up	fb.me	VIDEO		http://fb.me/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470200762_869975548544433_7860186377632052339_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8UWGmNCPHJ4Q7kNvgEPBsD7&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3TRJN6PhW0Nx1qdsC3IUiO&oh=00_AYBHewUyEhWbUazq1ar4fQIfICLQiwWRY0-i6raBluz0FA&oe=675FFEDD	PERSON_PROFILE	The Door McAllen	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,835	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642837}'	No	2024-12-11 21:20	active	1993	Clear Space, Support Vets	Portland, it's time to declutter! Ditch the junk and support local heroes with G.I. Junk Removal! Fast, reliable, and giving back to those who served. Ready to clear out and make a difference?	LEARN_MORE	https://sarge.gijunknw.com/GIJR	G.I. Junk Removal	https://www.facebook.com/GIJunkNW/	2,319	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	sarge.gijunknw.com	DCO	Over 1,500 5-Star Reviews	https://sarge.gijunknw.com/GIJR	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469901055_1864104704119448_837631046611165328_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=111&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=dvSIRZpvZ1IQ7kNvgH-r8fl&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AA3JcUSyjVDZ2qzRa_qEAj1&oh=00_AYDYDmoOP0Bw0DEw-ICWC8jYxdDWdA9HpYhvAW8k2i1IqQ&oe=675FFDC2	PERSON_PROFILE	G.I. Junk Removal	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,607	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-11 21:18	active	1993	Vuelve conmigo, amor mío	En medio de la ruina económica de su familia, ella renunció a su preciado violín y se convirtió en la dócil mascota de su esposo, solo para encontrarse con el desprecio de este. Afortunadamente, ella por fin despertó, se divorció con valentía y reinició su carrera musical, alcanzando un gran éxito y provocando el remordimiento de su ex. ===== Joelle Miller examinó minuciosamente el feed de Twitter de Rebecca Lloyd, estudiando con mucha atención cada video, ansiosa por ver el rostro del novio de Rebecca. Rebecca, la protagonista de los videos, irradiaba ternura y delicadeza con su sencillo vestido blanco. Si bien no era tan bella, tenía una genuina sencillez y una sonrisa encantadora. Había descubierto que, en los días importantes, Nochebuena, San Valentín e incluso el cumpleaños de Joelle, Rebecca estaba con Adrian Miller, su supuesto esposo, quien se había ausentado de todos esos días durante los últimos tres años. Esas alegres narraciones sobre su vida con su novio fueron más que suficientes para hundirla en la tristeza. "¿Lo ven? Él siempre guarda para mí la parte más jugosa de una sandía". "Incluso cuando llega tarde a casa, siempre me trae algo". "¡Y miren esta sorpresa! Recogió de la iglesia un amuleto de bendición para mí". ...... El nombre de usuario era "Cuenta Regresiva Hacia la Muerte", la única cuenta a la que Joelle seguía. Justo cuando reflexionaba sobre el siniestro nombre, la puerta del baño se abrió. En la habitación poco iluminada apareció Adrian. Gotas de agua caían de su cabello. A pesar de la tenue iluminación, sus atractivos rasgos permanecían intactos. Joelle cerró instintivamente su celular y le dio una mirada reflexiva. Hacía mucho tiempo desde la última vez que lo vio. Esa noche él no estaba ahí por decisión propia. Su abuela, Irene Miller, estaba enferma y, como quería un bisnieto con desesperación, lo obligó a regresar. De lo contrario, tal vez nunca hubiera venido. Durante sus tres años de matrimonio, Adrian pasaba la mayor parte del tiempo en Villas Oak, por lo que rara vez estaba en casa. Todos sabían que en realidad no amaba a Joelle. Estaba atrapada en un matrimonio por conveniencia. "Solo te voy a dar una oportunidad. El destino dirá si quedas earazada o no", declaró Adrian con una voz resonante. ¿Qué quería decir? Antes de que Joelle pudiera seguir pensando, Adrian la agarró del tobillo y la atrajo hacia él. Joelle palideció ante su crueldad, su cuerpo se tensó de miedo. "¡Adrian! Basta, no quiero...". Empezó a luchar frenéticamente. Era una completa humillación verse obligada a vivir en esa situación con el hombre que amaba. Adrian hizo una mueca de desprecio. "Te atreviste a diseño una vez, así que debiste haberlo visto venir. Solo aguántalo". Ante esas duras palabras, los ojos de Joelle se llenaron de lágrimas y sus pestañas bailaron como mariposas heridas. Mirando su rostro severo, dijo con voz temblorosa: "Las cosas no fueron lo que imaginabas..." Pero sus protestas fueron interrumpidas. Su resistencia se desvaneció a medida que la desesperación se apoderaba de ella. "Has aprendido que hacerte la difícil es mucho más interesante que quedarse tirada como un pez muerto", comentó con rencor. Después de ducharse, se marchó sin mirar atrás, como si no quisiera quedarse más tiempo ahí. Joelle no entendía qué papel tenía en su vida. ¿Solo era un juguete para su placer? ¿O una herramienta para cumplir las expectativas de su familia de tener un heredero? La ventana estaba completamente abierta, por lo que entraba un gélido y cortante viento. A Joelle se le erizaron los pelos de la nuca y se arropó más con su manta. No solo temblaba de frío, sino que sentía su corazón desgarrado, ahora no conocía en absoluto al hombre que había adorado durante casi ocho años. Tres años atrás, en un lujoso banquete organizado por la familia Miller, Joelle bebió demasiado. Cuando se despertó, en la con Adrian. Antes de que pudiera asimilar lo que estaba pasando, su hermano y varios miembros de su familia irrumpieron. Ya no podía revertir lo sucedido. La abuela de Adrian tomó las riendas y organizó su matrimonio. Desde entonces, él estaba convencido de que Joelle lo había hecho a propósito. A ella le desconcertaba su profunda animosidad, por más que creyera que lo había dgado. Después de todo, habían crecido juntos. Pero ahora lo entendía todo. Para él, ella no era más que la nefasta mujer que había saboteado su relación con Rebecca. A menudo pensaba en lo perfecto que él se veía en los videos de Rebecca, siempre tan gentil y atento. Probablemente nunca le mostraría esa misma ternura. No pudo contener más las lágrimas y sucumbió a un ataque de sollozos. Esa noche no pudo dormir bien. Tuvo sueños sobre el pasado, cuando ella y Adrian no estaban en malos términos. Debido a su angustia, Joelle se levantó inusualmente temprano. Después de lavarse, se puso ropa de casa y bajó las escaleras. Leah Jenkins, la empleada doméstica con muchos años de servicio, la vio bajar y rápidamente puso la mesa con el desayuno, ya que conocía sus preferencias dietéticas. Joelle se tomó su tiempo para comer lentamente. "Señora Miller, ¿por qué anoche no convenció a su esposo para que se quedara? No viene a casa a menudo", comentó Leah con simpatía. Había sido sirvienta de la familia Miller durante muchos años, por lo que había visto cómo los dos se convertían de amigos de la infancia a enemigos. Joelle se mostró incómoda, pero lo ocultó con una sonrisa serena. "Lo intenté, pero no quiso quedarse". Incluso si pudiera mantener a Adrian cerca, él tenía el corazón en otra parte. Más concretamente, en Villas Oak, el hogar de la mujer que realmente amaba. Leah dudó y agregó con cautela: "Tal vez sea porque el señor Miller está muy ocupado con la empresa. Dirigir una compañía tan grande requiere mucho tiempo". Tres años atrás, le habían reasignado para cuidar de Joelle, así que entendía los entresijos de ese matrimonio mejor que nadie. Su perspicacia trajo consigo una sincera simpatía hacia ella. Las pestañas de Joelle temblaron mientras mordisqueaba su tostada. Sus ojos se llenaron de lágrimas debido a la tensión emocional. Sí, Adrian estaba muy ocupado, pero siempre tenía tiempo para Rebecca. Frecuentaba la Iglesia Redención en busca de un amuleto de bendición para ella. A pesar de su apretada agenda, siempre pasaba las vacaciones con ella. De repente, su celular rompió el silencio. Cuando Leah salió del comedor, Joelle agarró el dispositivo y vio que era una llamada de su mejor amiga, Katherine Nash. "Katherine, quiero el divorcio", confesó con voz ronca. Capítulo 2 En declive Joelle había tomado una decisión: quería el divorcio. No tenía sentido seguir alargándolo. Tras un silencio atónito, Katherine soltó una estridente carcajada. "¿Te quedarás con la mitad de los bienes de Adrian? ¡Oh, por Dios! ¡Joelle, te convertirás en una multimillonaria!". "No, no será así". Joelle había firmado un acuerdo cuando se casó con Adrian. Si se divorciaban, ella no recibiría nada. "Entonces, ¿por qué te estás divorciando? ¡Tienes que seguir siendo su esposa!". Joelle recordó la brutalidad de Adrian la noche anterior, así como la humillación posterior. Había sido muy ingenua al creer que su amor por él la ayudaría a soportar cualquier dificultad. Pero ahora sabía que había sido una completa tonta. ¿El sufrimiento hacía que Adrian la amara más? Claro que no. Para empezar, un hombre que realmente la amara nunca le haría sufrir. Joelle se rio de sí misma y cambió de tema: "Por cierto, ¿recuerdas el favor que te pedí?". "Sí, justo te iba a contar eso. Me pediste que estuviera atenta a un trabajo, y tengo algo para ti. Vas a enseñar a un estudiante a tocar el violín, aunque debo decir que será un desperdicio de tu talento". "Está bien", respondió Joelle con una leve sonrisa. "No será un desperdicio en absoluto. Llevo tres años siendo ama de casa. Es suficiente con que alguien quiera contratarme". "¿Cómo que no será un desperdicio? Casi formaste parte de una orquesta internacional. Si no fuera por el matrimonio…". Katherine se quedó en silencio, demasiado indignada por su amiga. Después de su boda, a Joelle ni siquiera le permitieron trabajar. Las familias adineradas se aferraban a esas reglas obsoletas. Era bastante ridículo. Hacía tres años, la carrera de Joelle como violinista despegaba. Pero las estrictas tradiciones de la familia Miller le prohibían tocar en público. El primer día de su matrimonio, la madre de Adrian le dijo: "No tienes que trabajar. Adrian te proveerá en todo lo que necesites. Tu único trabajo es tener bebés y cuidar a tu esposo". Una vez que terminó su llamada con Katherine, Joelle subió las escaleras y fue al estudio para agarrar su violín abandonado. Había sido un regalo especial de su padre en su decimoctavo cumpleaños. No obstante, poco después de recibirlo, este sufrió un derrame cerebral y cayó en coma. Su hermano mayor terminó asumiendo la responsabilidad de sustentar a la familia, así que la dejó perseguir su sueño de tocar el violín. Mientras recordaba el pasado, Joelle movió el arco sobre las cuerdas. Años atrás, un accidente le había lesionado la muñeca y desde entonces no había vuelto a tocar. A pesar del dolor agudo que sentía en esa zona mientras tocaba, no se detuvo y confió en su memoria muscular para tocar una pieza corta. Al final, soltó una risa amarga. Sonaba horrible. De repente, escuchó la alegre voz de Leah en la puerta. "¡Señor, ha regresado!". Estaba secretamente aliviada de ver a Adrian, ya que eso tal vez significaba que todavía se preocupaba por Joelle. Quizás si ella le decía algo amable, su relación podría mejorar. Por su parte, Joelle estaba sorprendida. Adrian rara vez venía a casa durante el día. Apenas había dejado el violín cuando se abrió la puerta. Ahí estaba la alta e imponente figura de su esposo. Sus ojos la recorrieron con el ceño fruncido. Recordaba que Joelle había aprendido a tocar el violín cuando era niña y que un reconocido profesor la había elogiado por su talento. Sin embargo, por alguna razón, había dejado de tocar. Hacía un momento, la había escuchado desde afuera y le pareció una interpretación mediocre. ¿Cómo era posible que la elogiara por su talento? Joelle lo miró y bajó la cabeza para volver a guardar el violín en su estuche. "¿Qué te trae por aquí?", murmuró. "¿Necesitas algo?". "Vine a recoger algo y recordarte que mañana tenemos que visitar a la abuela", respondió él fríamente. Era una regla familia visitar a su abuela al menos una vez al mes, y mañana era el día. De no ser por esa obligación, Adrian no habría regresado. Irene se enfadaría si no iban juntos. Joelle sonrió con amargura. Recordaba las normas de los Miller mejor que Adrian y siempre las cumplía. Ni siquiera Irene, tan estricta como siempre, podía encontrarle defectos. "No lo he olvidado, me alegra que tú tampoco lo hayas hecho", respondió. Su tono acusatorio hizo que Adrian pusiera una mueca. Una ira latente empezó a hervir dentro de él. Sin decir nada más, se dirigió al vestidor para buscar algo. Aunque él no solía estar en casa, Joelle aseaba meticulosamente su guardarropa, por lo que tenía la ropa lavada, planchada y ordenada. Era como si su papel se redujera a realizar las tareas del hogar, algo que Leah también podía hacer. Su única ventaja, tal vez, era ser más joven y más guapa que Leah. Sus ojos siguieron los movimientos de Adrian. Tenía el dedo anular desnudo, sin el anillo de bodas. Una punzada de dolor le atravesó el corazón. "Adrian, hay que divorciarnos", declaró con una voz tan suave como la brisa. Había agotado todas sus fuerzas al pronunciar esas palabras, pero se sintió extrañamente aliviada. Adrian se dio la vuelta y la miró con una sonrisa burlona. "Tienes que pensar muy bien antes de hablar. La familia Watson está en declive. Sin mi apoyo, ¿vas a dormir en la calle con tu hermano?". Desde la caída de la familia Watson, Joelle pasó de ser amada a quedar en ridículo. La familia Miller la despreciaba y la miraba por encima del hombro, como si ella y su hermano fueran sanguijuelas de las que no podían librarse. Incluso sus momentos íntimos con Adrian la hacían sentir degradada. Joelle se mordió el labio y se enderezó. "Ya he alquilado un apartamento. Incluso si terminara durmiendo en la calle, es asunto mío". Solo quería que su esposo la respetara, pero tres años de cautiverio la habían dejado sin orgullo ni dignidad. "¿Y de dónde sacaste el dinero para alquilar un apartamento? Si tanto querías ser independiente, no deberías haber gastado ni un solo centavo de mi familia". De espaldas a ella, Adrian encontró entre unos muebles el anillo de bodas perdido y lo sostuvo en la palma de su mano. Joelle no se dio cuenta. Las palabras de ese hombre la dejaron sin aliento. Sí, había utilizado sus escasos ahorros para alquilar el apartamento. Pero como estaba casada con Adrian, ¿lo que era suyo no era también de él? Además, el apoyo financiero que Adrian les había dado a los Watson durante todos esos años ascendía a una suma significativa. Joelle siempre había despreciado la idea de deberle algo, pero su deuda con él era infinita. Si se divorciaban, tal vez dejaría de darle apoyo financiero a la familia Watson. ¿Estaba sugiriendo que ella debía salir del matrimonio con las manos vacías? Cuando Adrian se dio la vuelta para irse, Joelle dijo con una dignidad apenas intacta: "Tengo derecho legítimo a este matrimonio y a reclamar lo que supuestamente es mío. Pero no te preocupes, no pediré mucho, solo lo suficiente para ayudar al Grupo Watson a superar esta crisis". Adrian se quedó paralizado y su mirada se agudizó. Sus labios formaron una fina línea mientras apretaba la mandíbula. Eran claras señales de su creciente furia. Aunque Joelle ya se había preparado mentalmente, no podía soportar su intensidad. Cada segundo bajo su mirada severa la ponía más ansiosa. De repente, sonó el celular de Adrian, quien lo sacó de su bolsillo y estuvo a punto de alejarse. "¡Adrian!". Capítulo 3 Siempre mantendré la cabeza en alto La frustración de Adrian crepitaba como estática. "Si tu hermano necesita dinero, dile que vaya al Grupo Miller". "¡No se trata de eso!", replicó Joelle. La había malinterpretado por completo. Con el corazón latiendo con urgencia, corrió tras él. "¡Adrian, quiero el divorcio!". Adrian dejó de subir las escaleras y giró la cabeza. El celular en su mano había dejado de sonar. Con un metro noventa de altura, se alzaba sobre ella. "Joelle, ¿no se te ocurre un mejor juego que este interminable tira y afloja?", preguntó burlonamente con una mirada gélida. "Si de verdad quieres divorciarte, ¿por qué no se lo dices tú misma a la abuela? ¡No quiero volver a escucharte pronunciar esa palabra!". La puerta se cerró de golpe detrás de él, haciendo eco a su irrevocable decisión. Joelle se apoyó contra la pared y sus piernas cedieron hasta que se deslizó al suelo. Una risa amarga emergió de sus labios. Irene había organizado su matrimonio. Adrian se había visto obligado a aceptar, y Joelle lo sabía muy bien. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, lo más efectivo sería hablar con Irene. Sin embargo, una pequeña y estúpida parte de ella se había aferrado a la esperanza de que ella y Adrian eran una verdadera pareja. Por eso se lo había mencionado primero a él, porque lo veía como su esposo. Sin embargo, olvidó un detalle crucial: Adrian nunca había querido casarse con ella. Su reticencia había sido evidente desde el principio, aunque ella había intentado pasarla por alto. Sus últimas palabras no solo fueron despectivas, sino una orden. Si de verdad quería el divorcio, debería enfrentarse a Irene. Joelle se dio una ducha, se puso ropa limpia y se preparó para visitar a la anciana. Irene era estricta, autoritaria y temida por toda la familia. Gobernaba con puño de hierro y no toleraba la desobediencia. Pero Joelle tenía un vínculo muy especial con ella. En parte, había aceptado casarse con Adrian para cumplir las expectativas de Irene. Quería cuidar de Adrian, construir un hogar y asegurarse de que la anciana falleciera sin remordimientos. Pero ahora ya no aguantaba más. Ver a Adrian tan preocupado por otra mujer le llenaba de una amargura que parecía consumirla. Era consciente de que él no la amaba. ¡Nunca lo hizo y nunca lo haría! Estaba a punto de irse cuando sonó su celular. Era su hermano, Shawn Watson. "¿Shawn? ¿Qué ocurre?". "¡Señora Miller!". Era el asistente de Shawn. Su voz sonaba muy asustada, algo que Joelle nunca había escuchado. Se le heló la s*gre y agarró el celular con más fuerza mientras permanecía en la escalera. "¿Dónde está mi hermano? ¿Qué le pasó?". "Anoche el señor Watson asistió a una reunión de negocios, donde lo presionaron para que biera. Supuestamente volvería a casa, pero Erick Lloyd insistió en llevarlo a unas aguas termales". Joelle se quedó congelada y la furia recorrió sus venas. "¿Erick no sabía que eso podría matarlo?". "¡Erick es un svergüenza! Se jacta de su poder desde que su padre y su hermano se volvieron chóferes de la familia Miller. ¡Señora Miller, tiene que venir rápido! El señor Watson está siendo operado y los médicos han emitido dos avisos de condición crítica. ¡No pude aguantar más, así que la llamé!". El asistente parecía estar al borde de las lágrimas. Joelle sabía que él no se habría puesto en contacto con ella a menos que la situación fuera bastante desesperada. Shawn siempre la había protegido de las malas noticias, sin importar lo sombrías que fueran las circunstancias. Si su asistente estaba tan conmocionado, la vida de su hermano debía estar en peligro. Joelle sintió como si el mundo se cerrara a su alrededor y un nudo se formó en su garganta. Al bajar del último escalón, tropezó y se cayó con fuerza, torciéndose bruscamente el tobillo. El dolor abrasador la devolvió a la realidad y las lágrimas brotaron de sus ojos. "¡Oh, no, señora Miller, tenga más cuidado cuando camina!". Leah corrió a ayudarla a levantarse. Joelle agarró el brazo de Leah con la visión borrosa a causa de las lágrimas. Intentó hablar, pero las palabras le salían entrecortadas porque estaba sollozando. "Mi hermano... ¡Tengo que ir al hospital para verlo!". Leah sintió su urgencia y respondió sin dudar: "De acuerdo, no se preocupe. ¡Le pediré al conductor que la lleve de inmediato!". Leah era una criada experimentada y confiable que llevaba años al servicio de la familia Miller. Cinco minutos después, el auto ya estaba aparcado delante de la villa. Joelle estaba a punto de subir cuando se volvió hacia Leah. "Por favor, no se lo cuentes a Irene. No quiero preocuparla". El corazón de la criada se ablandó. Incluso con el rostro pálido y surcado de lágrimas, Joelle se preocupaba por la salud de Irene. ¡Qué muchacha tan rara y extraordinaria! "No se preocupe, señora Miller. Yo sé qué hacer. Vaya a ver a su hermano". Cuando Joelle llegó al hospital, Shawn acababa de salir del quirófano. Al ver a su jefe conectado a tubos y cables, el asistente casi se desplomó. Joelle se acercó y lo encontró arrodillado contra la pared, con los ojos hundidos e inyectados en sgre. Tuvo que contener el impulso de regañarlo por no haber protegido mejor a su hermano. Más tarde habría tiempo para eso. Cuando la condición de Shawn fue más estable, Joelle llevó al asistente a un lado. "Cuéntamelo todo. ¿Cómo ocurrió esto?". El asistente vaciló, con el rostro desencajado. "Señora Miller, el señor Watson nos ordenó específicamente que no la involucremos en los asuntos comerciales". "Pero esto es una cuestión de vida o muerte. ¿Piensas que todavía es una opción no decirme nada?". Ya sin paciencia, Joelle se dio la vuelta para alejarse. "Señora Miller, eso no sirve de nada", respondió el asistente desesperadamente. "Usted sabe que desde la muerte de su padre, el Grupo Watson ha dependido por completo de su hermano. Ha estado luchando para defender la dignidad de la familia, porque quiere que su vida con los Miller sea más llevadera". Durante esos años, Shawn había luchado valientemente para mantener a la familia a flote. No obstante, sin el apoyo financiero de Adrian, sus esfuerzos se habrían desvanecido hacía mucho tiempo. Su deseo más profundo era que su hermana viviera cómodamente, pero a pesar de sus incansables esfuerzos, nunca pudo hacerle ganar el respeto que merecía por parte de su esposo. No importaba lo mucho que se sacrificara, ella seguiría siendo infravalorada en la familia Miller. Joelle estaba hirviendo de rabia, pero sabía que no podía cambiar su realidad. Entonces, inspiró profundamente y preguntó: "¿No mencionaron mi relación con Adrian?" Esperaba que alinearse con los Miller pudiera ayudar a Shawn a mantenerse firme en sus actividades sociales. "El señor Watson se niega a tocar ese tema, pues teme que eso le haga las cosas más difíciles a usted". Joelle soltó una risa amarga. Jamás había estado en igualdad de condiciones con Adrian. No le extrañaba que la despreciara, ya que apenas podía soportarse a sí misma. Solo hacía una hora que le había pedido el divorcio. Y ahora se aferraba al nombre de su esposo, desesperada por facilitarle la vida a su hermano. "Dile a Shawn que soy la esposa de Adrian Miller, Irene me eligió personalmente. ¡Mientras sea la señora Miller, mantendré la cabeza en alto dentro de la familia!". De repente, escucharon unos pasos detrás de ella. Joelle se dio la vuelta y vio a Adrian, que tenía una sonrisa fría en su rostro. A su lado, se encontraba una muchacha de aspecto frágil, con grandes ojos inocentes, aferrada a él. Adrian la miraba desdeñosamente, como si incluso le costara reconocer su presencia. Ya se había dado cuenta de que ella realmente no quería el divorcio. La mujer que había parecido tan decidida a irse, ahora estaba haciendo alarde de su título como la señora Miller. Su amenaza de divorcio no había sido más que una estrategia, como una pelea de amantes que terminaba en amenazas vacías. Era tan astuta que lo había d*gado para obligarlo a casarse. Con tácticas tan engañosas, ¿cómo podría irse tan fácilmente? Su matrimonio eran un salvavidas para las dificultades de su familia. Adrian le daba cien millones cada año al Grupo Watson. Joelle sería una tonta si se arriesgaba a perderlo divorciándose de él. Capítulo 4 Por fin se dio cuenta Hacía mucho que Joelle se había vuelto insensible ante la indiferencia de Adrian. Observó sin decir nada los brazos entrelazados de la pareja y recordó los dulces momentos capturados en los videos de Rebecca, que provocaban la envidia de mucha gente. ¡Qué pareja tan perfecta! Ese pensamiento la golpeó. "¡Joelle, por favor, no nos malinterpretes!", dijo Rebecca con urgencia mientras retiraba su mano del brazo de Adrian. "No me siento bien y no puedo caminar, así que Adie simplemente tuvo la amabilidad de sostenerme". Joelle esbozó una leve sonrisa. "¿Qué te trae al hospital?", preguntó mirando a Adrian, como si no hubiera escuchado la explicación de Rebecca. "Es por Erick", dijo Rebecca, con las manos entrelazadas como una niña arrepentida. "También vine a pedirte perdón, Joelle. Lamento que Erick haya sido tan descuidado para provocar que tu hermano terminara en el hospital". "¿Descuidado?", replicó ella. "Tu hermano casi mta al mío, ¿y crees que una disculpa bastará para arreglarlo?". Rebecca se estremeció y agarró la manga de Adrian en busca de apoyo. "Ya es suficiente, Joelle", respondió él con una voz tan gélida como el invierno. "No fue a propósito". Luego, se volvió hacia Rebecca y agregó suavemente: "Vamos, ¿no viniste para ver a Erick?". Fue entonces cuando Joelle lo entendió todo. Había esperado ingenuamente que Adrian viniera para ver a Shawn. Pero no, había venido con Rebecca para ver a Erick. Incluso si visitara a Shawn, sería por obligación, nada más. Pero sabía que no debía esperar que él la defendiera. "¡Rebecca, no olvidaré lo que hizo Erick!", espetó. Rebecca dobló las piernas y se desplomó sobre el pecho de Adrian, quien la atrapó justo a tiempo y la abrazó con fuerza. "Joelle, Erick no tenía malas intenciones. ¡También está en el hospital!". "¿Ya está muerto? ¡Si no, tendrá que pagar por lo que hizo!". Joelle no solía arremeter, pero esta vez era diferente. Shawn era la única familia que le quedaba. Su padre, incapacitado por un derrame cerebral, se encontraba en estado vegetativo con poca o ninguna esperanza de recuperación, y su madre había fallecido en un accidente de tráfico. Desde los dieciocho años, habían sido solo ella y Shawn, enfrentándose juntos a las dificultades del mundo. En sus momentos más oscuros, Shawn llevó sola la carga para dejar que Joelle persiguiera su pasión por el violín. Ahora la idea de perderlo también a él era insoportable. Su único deseo era que Erick muriera. "Joelle, ¿cómo puedes decir eso?", sollozó Rebecca con incredulidad. Ya sin paciencia, Adrian fijó su fría mirada en Joelle. "¿Qué deseas?". "Shawn recibió dos avisos de condición crítica. ¿Qué hay de Erick?". Rebecca jadeó, su frágil cuerpo estaba temblando como una hoja en el viento. "¡Joelle, por favor! Solo me queda un hermano. ¡Por favor, ten compasión!". Se desmayó antes de que la otra mujer pudiera responder. Adrian la levantó en sus brazos y le dio una última mirada de reproche a Joelle. Luego, se alejó y la dejó clavada en el mismo lugar, incapaz de moverse o incluso de pensar, lo que pareció una eternidad. Antes de su matrimonio, había sido una chica adinerada, pero luego se convirtió en la sirvienta de Adrian. Ahora se daba cuenta de lo ingenua que había sido. Ella solía ser una persona muy orgullosa, pero ahora soporta todo tipo de agravios sólo para complacer a su marido. ¡Qué patético! Han pasado tres años, es hora de divorciarnos y comenzar una nueva vida... ...... ¿Qué sucederá en adelante? Los capítulos disponibles son limitados aquí, haga click el botón abajo para instalar APP y disfrutar leyendo más contenidos maravillosos. (Al abrir el APP, directo accederá a este libro) &9&	LEARN_MORE	https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa	Online Reading	https://www.facebook.com/100083320248142/	43,973	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn more	fbweb.manobook.com	IMAGE		https://fbweb.manobook.com/14484375-fb_contact-spa220_2-1023-core2.html?adid={{ad.id}}&char=331118&accid=1164004058227180&rawadid=120214339844080186	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/467568975_557528960364287_3235535077432644562_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=8iEhx_4IZUoQ7kNvgEz2JK2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7Hx8m3Ne2urSnrX1I4dY4C&oh=00_AYCMWjOTezFPZAvTTffiLvsTY6oHzv8sc4D8s9LqvlMIng&oe=676004BE	PERSON_PROFILE	Online Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,643,385	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2643383}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:27	active	1993	Tire Changing Machine, Wheel Balancer, Floor Jacks & More!		LEARN_MORE	https://bids.auctionbypearce.com/auctions/40754-au	Pearce & Associates	https://www.facebook.com/AuctionByPearce/	13,882	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	bids.auctionbypearce.com	CAROUSEL		https://bids.auctionbypearce.com/auctions/40754-automotive-shop-business-liquidation	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470248048_550301324487681_5051577557795420603_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=109&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=l-ci_dLyrxcQ7kNvgEEU7dZ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=A7Cf8RlGBkwwCSP0-roOoGP&oh=00_AYCacuznZ1YXkpxySXCArXaTq9xLhxEzRFtbZcJQARdhDg&oe=676002BA	PERSON_PROFILE	Pearce & Associates	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,641,337	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641335}'	No	2024-12-11 21:05	active	1993	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	“I’m so glad you are here tonight, Leah. I care so much about you.” Tristan said. My husband, the Alpha of Blazewood Pack, held the beautiful blonde in his arm. I froze on my spot after seeing this. All the guests in the banquet hall were stealing glances at me, whispering and jeering. “Is that Leah Middleton?” My maid Mandy gasped, “What’s she doing here?!” My husband brought her here, obviously. Tonight was the Full Moon festival. We should have attended as Alpha and Luna, but Tristan brought her instead. Leah Middleton was Tristan’s high school sweetheart, Ironclaw Pack’s Alpha’s daughter. She and Tristan were the perfect couple until Leah broke up with him. Rumors said that she cheated on him with another person. Tristan met me a year later at a party. Nobody in my family was thrilled about our relationship. But I still ran away from home and married into Blazewood Pack. We were mates, blessed by the Moon Goddess. How bad could it be? But I was wrong. So wrong. The first bump in our marriage was my miscarriage. I lost my child during a business meeting. Tristan blamed me for it. He thought I was too careless. To fix the trauma, we adopted a sweet little boy called Roman. But a child still couldn’t fix our marriage. Tristan started to grow cold to me. And now, Leah was back, my husband’s Ex. Was she here to take him away from me? Suppressing the panic, I strode up to them. “Leah, you should leave.” I tried to say this with as much dignity as possible. “And stay away from my husband.” Leah rounded her big, innocent eyes and looked over to Tristan. “Shall we tell her?” she asked softly. I started to get a bad feeling. “Tell me what?” Tristan gave me an indifferent look, “Leah will stay here from now on.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. “Stay here? As what? Are you out of your mind?!” Tears quickly welled up in Leah's eyes, “I know you hate me, Evelyn. It's all my fault. But Tristan didn’t do anything wrong so please don’t yell at him.” “Do you mind? I’m talking to my husband!” I snapped. “Be nice to her!” Tristan growled. “I won’t threaten your position. I promise.” Leah blinked innocently, “You can still be Luna. All I want is to stay with Tristan…and my child.” The ground was slipping away underneath my feet. My legs went soft, and I couldn’t stand straight. “Child? What child?” I asked through clenched teeth. They had a child together? How come I didn't know about this?? They exchanged a look. And then finally, Tristan spoke up, “It’s probably time to tell you the truth…Roman is Leah and my kid.” I couldn’t breathe, “But you said…you adopted Roman from an orphanage! He doesn’t have any parents!” “If I hadn’t said that, would you have accepted Roman and raised him as your own?” Tristan said with a frown. “Leah couldn’t raise Roman when the kid was born. So I brought him back here. It’s just a little harmless lie.” A harmless lie? I poured my heart out and raised the child of the person who fucked my husband. And now she swooped in and tried to take my child and husband away. What am I? A free nanny to them? “No, Tristan…I don’t want her here.” I gritted, trying hard not to let my tears fall. “This is unacceptable. Send her away, please…I am asking as your wife and Luna!” “She stays. End of discussion!” Tristan growled. “If she stays…I’m afraid that you are driving me away,” I said, trembling. My heart was in my throat because even I couldn’t be sure whom he would choose. Tristan looked frustrated. Yet before he spoke up, Leah burst out crying. “Don’t push him! This is all my fault…I never want to be the third person in your marriage…I—I should go!” she sobbed and turned away, running out of the banquet hall. Tristan snapped his head towards me and glared, “Now are you happy?” Chapter 2 Evelyn’s POV Tristan never bothered to check on me once. I heard that he was busy taking Leah to parties and introducing her to all his members. Then I got an unexpected call, from my best friend in college, Haley. “Hey, Evelyn! Just want to check on you and see if you are still coming to Storm Fang Pack for business next week. We should find a time to meet up!” I took in a small deep breath. I almost forgot that. For the past few years, I have been working on a huge real estate project called Carnival City with a company in Storm Fang Pack, AKA the largest and most powerful pack in the world. Originally, I planned to go over there next week and sign the contract with CEO Jason. I also wanted to catch up with Haley and…possibly visit Haley's brother. Her brother, Asher Hawthorne, was no one else but the Alpha of Storm Fang Pack, the tycoon that dominated the business world. If he could advise on my project, it’d definitely help me. But now, I had completely forgotten all about that. Because of what happened with Leah. “I don’t know, Haley…Maybe there’ll be a change of plan. I can’t go anymore.” I said lowly. “What? Why?” There’s no point hiding this with my best friend. I covered my face and choked, “…Tristan is leaving me for another person…the birth mother of our adopted child. If he does, there’s no point for me to keep working on that project…” Although Leah was his mother by birth, I was by his side for the past 3 years. My boy would be on my side. Standing outside of the packhouse, I saw Roman’s school bus drive close. I was on this spot every day for the past 3 years, waiting for Roman to come back to school. As soon as the door opened, I started waving and calling for my boy: “Roman! Darling! Over here!” He jumped off the school bus. But as soon as he saw me, he started running in the opposite direction. “Get away from me!” He cried. I rushed to grab his shoulder, stunned, “What? Roman, why—” “You want my mommy to leave! I hate you!” he shouted, “Daddy, Mommy, and I are a real family! Not you!” Tears welled up in my eyes. Roman knew Leah was back. And he chose her over me. “Roman, I—I’m your mom, remember?” I choked, “I took you to the hospital when you were sick. I went to all of your parent and teacher's meetings.” He struggled in my arms, screeching, as though he didn’t want me to touch him. Passersby stopped and stared at us. One guy even came forward and said, “Miss, please let go of the child.” “It’s ok. He’s my kid.” I quickly explained. “NO!” Roman shrieked, “You hit me! You put my head into the toilet! You scared me! I don’t want you. I want Mommy Leah!” I froze on my spot. I didn’t none of those stuff! Why would Roman lie about those?! Leah suddenly appeared near the front gate, with Tristan behind her back. She dashed over, crying, and held Roman tightly in her arms. “My poor baby! What’ve you been through!” she wailed. “You hit Roman?!” Tristan growled at me, “Are you doing this because you can’t have your own child and you are jealous of Leah?” I looked at him in shock. How could he think this way? Leah sobbed, “Don’t blame her, Tristan. I get it. People only care about their own kids. Roman and I are outsiders here. Maybe we should leave…” “Yes, you do!” I blurt out. “ENOUGH!” Tristan snarled, glaring at me. “Leah’s the person I care about and Roman is my only son! I can’t leave them. And they need me.” I started to tremble in pain. “Then what about me, Tristan? I’m your mate!” “Nobody says you aren’t!” Tristan said impatiently, “You’ll still be Blazewood Pack’s Luna. She’s not interested in your position.” “You won’t even notice that I’m in the house. I just want to stay with Tristan.” Leah said softly. I felt dizzy. If she was the person he loved, then what did that make me? A free employee who helped him run his pack? How could I stand the pain while my husband fucked another person every day in the next room? No, I couldn’t handle that. So with a trembling hand, I started undoing my blouse, revealing my delicate collarbone. My scent quickly filled the air. I heard Tristan’s breathing suddenly become heavy. “…What are you doing?” he gritted with sweat on his forehead. I took a step further, locking eyes with him, whispering, “Don’t you miss me? The feeling of being with your mate…it’s better than anything else in the world. You know that.” The mate bond was working. He stared deep into my eyes, obsessed, and murmured, “My mate.”	LEARN_MORE	https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&u	Galaxy in the Story	https://www.facebook.com/61555427913037/	1,615	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	befant.com	DCO		https://befant.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=15862&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/t39.35426-6/467730157_1238869077349073_3792002446600257245_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=czkLvkl4v2YQ7kNvgHd6dkC&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=ALlqBU2nS2qBTAT90V-E5Cb&oh=00_AYATGZBXfKMsO9IE34YQzcJ1LZdttkMsS_X2TuBxG0Idtw&oe=67602B2C	PERSON_PROFILE	Galaxy in the Story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,510	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642242}'	No	2024-12-11 21:17	active	1993	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	"Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,” a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,” a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! "It's time to end this!"	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	865	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463838510_3169305699879240_251659659452484488_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=110&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=sVJ9r_TeV3wQ7kNvgE_WQIJ&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=A3NszcYeucvrEeH-VHKSpF_&oh=00_AYCx8IWCNRFJIQ1G1oVqWekqfFbg9TEh9JKFa1Vug3afig&oe=67601FCA	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,641,853	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641570}'	No	2024-12-11 21:11	active	1993	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=JJYwiO0nrlQQ7kNvgEXbKrz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AdiiFfO_Pj9uSa4uE9_ioq7&oh=00_AYACVDEDySdDGmqH7n6n1KDSBs2yVFIbMdWYwBvg7KguyQ&oe=67602B9F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,869	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642868}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:21	active	1993	INTRODUCING: The Cameltoe-Proof Bodysuit	INTRODUCING: The world's first bodysuit to prevent cameltoe. Made from luxurious fabric, she sculpts and supports, giving you the freedom to move confidently.	SHOP_NOW	https://www.jivathletics.com/collections/the-bodys	JIV Athletics	https://www.facebook.com/jivathletics/	552	1969-12-31 18:00	Shop Now	jivathletics.com	DCO	The patented cameltoe-proof thong bodysuit.	https://www.jivathletics.com/collections/the-bodysuit	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470178538_1105030074455598_5980788511444146171_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=100&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=LNDpLXJ7r38Q7kNvgFd3se2&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AA3JcUSyjVDZ2qzRa_qEAj1&oh=00_AYC9TZFO3WSBOF5VtTwQJ30DBWuL2K_5VVMqoj2OR4EJmw&oe=67600E71	PERSON_PROFILE	JIV Athletics	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,641,882	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641697}'	No	2024-12-11 21:12	active	1993	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	As the daughter of Alpha, I have been abused by my brother Alpha Trey and the pack, all because of an unforgivable mistake I made at 6. Ouch! Beta Kyle rudely kicks me to the floor in front of the office door and yells, “Useless Stupid Wolf! Clean the office asap! Our guest, Alpha Dane will be arriving soon!” Alpha Dane, I had only ever heard rumours about him. He was a ruthless man, a Wolf feared by others. He didn’t mess around and he had the largest pack. “He is the Alpha of Black Shadow, the biggest pack in the world, we need him!” Beta Kyle continues. He digs his nails into my thinning skin before he moves away. Quietly closing the door, I lean back against it, observing the already clean office. There was nothing out of place, it looked perfectly fine for a meeting with this so-called powerful Alpha. I hated this house. I thought that when I turned 18, I could finally escape, but 4 years later, here I still am, a slave in my own home. Doing all the dirty tasks for my brother, Alpha Trey and the pack. While my ex mate, Beta Kyle waltzes around reminding me of how worthless I am. Closing my eyes, I slide down to the floor. “Uhheem” Someone clears their throat and I freeze, I thought I was alone. Leaning forward, I see a handsome man sitting in a chair, just around the corner. A foot propped up on his knee as he nurses a glass of alcohol. His short hair is dark and his eyes are a deep crimson colour, that don’t quite look right. They suddenly shift to me and I throw myself back against the door as my heart pounded. “Is this the way you greet all Alpha’s?” His deep voice rumbles through the room, there was an edge of amusement to his tone. “I’m sorry.” I whisper, getting to my feet. “I…I thought I was alone.” I had no idea who he was but I could feel the power radiating off of him, even without my Wolf. “Come forward.” He orders and I already feel a lump forming in my throat. Alpha Trey was going to kill me. I step around the corner, doing as I’m told, allowing him to see me properly. I close my eyes, expecting the worst. “You smell funny. Yet you are a Wolf, correct?” I nod, though I couldn’t tell how he was going to react. Most laughed when they found out about me. “I would prefer it if you spoke to me.” He growls, “I’m not in the mood to play games.” “Yes.” I whisper. I couldn’t help but think of all the punishments I was going to have to endure. A whipping maybe? Starvation for another week? “Why do you smell strange? And how is it possible for you to not know I was in the room? You should have scented me.” “I…” I hated the question. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day!” His deep voice sends a shiver through me, “You should open your eyes when you are talking to someone. It’s rude to not look at them.” Slowly, I open my eyes and lower them, there was no way I was making eye contact. “My Wolf abilities were bound,” I mutter. Twice, I wanted to add. Twice my abilities were bound. But he probably wasn’t interested in that part. He leans forward, carefully placing his glass on the small table next to the chair. I could feel him staring at me, “Why would someone do that?” If this is the Alpha that my brother is supposed to be meeting with, I knew I could screw everything up for him by saying too much. “It was a punishment.” I whisper. It wasn’t far from the entire truth but it was the simplest answer I could give. 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. The door swings open and my brother screeches at me “Neah, what the fuck are you doing in my office?” He turns to the crimson eyed man. “I am so sorry that my sister is bothering you, Alpha Dane.” Crap, it was him. My brother spins around, his hand stretching out to hit me. I close my eyes, bracing myself, ready to feel the 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. “Get out now!” Alpha Trey seethes. I nod my head and hurry from the room, the last thing I wanted was to be caught between bickering men. I try to keep myself busy to stay as far away from the office as possible. My peace is short-lived when I hear my brother calling out for champagne and some glasses. Quickly finding what he asked for, I bow my head 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 has ever watched 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. “Why do you treat her like shit?” Straight to the point, my brother wouldn’t like that. 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. “She's an unforgiven murderer.” Alpha Trey spits I closed my eyes, battling back the tears that were threatening to break free. “Murdered who?” Alpha Dane’s voice rumbles through me. He was definitely angry. “Our parents.”	LEARN_MORE	https://wwwedb.com/market/meganovel/13?lpid=11783&	New world publications	https://www.facebook.com/100090352943774/	3,767	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	wwwedb.com	DCO		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}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463716564_849071077033660_7419585111381032995_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=105&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=1ktFCNnH_KYQ7kNvgGafNWf&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-2.xx&_nc_gid=AdiiFfO_Pj9uSa4uE9_ioq7&oh=00_AYDQOCZ--rn5LiEg55GlvcXD4izBLp9-xu16hrHdr9pVOQ&oe=67601134	PERSON_PROFILE	New world publications	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,641,636	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641747}'	No	2024-12-11 21:08	active	1993	🔞Attention! Do not read in public！👉	At Grace Mansion, Carissa Sinclair stared at the man before her—her husband she had waited for a whole year. Barrett Warren, still in his battle armor, wore an expression of both determination and guilt. "Carissa, the king has issued a royal edict for my marriage with Aurora. She will be joining our household. There's no question about it," said Barrett. Carissa's eyes clouded with confusion. "The queen dowager has praised General Yates as a model for all women in the kingdom. Would she be willing to be a concubine?" Barrett's eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance. "No, she won’t be a concubine. She’ll be my legal wife, equal to you." "But calling her equal doesn't change the fact that she’s still just a concubine," Carissa said, a soft smile playing on her lips. Barrett frowned. "Why can't you face the reality? Aurora and I fell in love with each other on the battlefield, and we earned this marriage with our glorified victory. In fact, I don’t really need your approval on it." Carissa smiled mockingly. "Fell in love, huh? Have you forgot what you promised me before you left for war?" On their wedding night a year ago, Barrett was called away to lead reinforcements on an expedition. Before he left, he lifted his wife’s veil and vowed, "Carrisa Sinclair, you're the only woman I'll ever love in my life. I will never take a concubine!" Embarrassed, Barrett avoided her eye contact. "Just forget what I said. Back then, I only considered you a suitable match for a wife. I knew nothing about love until I met Rory." When he spoke of the woman he loved, his eyes softened with deep affection. Turning back to Carissa, he added, "She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. I love her deeply, and I hope you'll be generous enough to welcome her." Carissa felt a lump in her throat. Despite her disgust and reluctance, she asked, "What about your parents? Do they agree?" "They do. It was a royal edict, and mother liked her a lot upon seeing her." They agreed? Huh... How ironic! Seems like everything Carissa had done for this household had all been for nothing. "Is she currently in the mansion?" Carissa asked, lifting a brow. Barrett carried a softness in his voice, "Yes, she’s talking to my mother and making her very happy. Even mother's health seems to be improving." "Improving?" Carissa felt a whirlwind of emotions. "When you went to war, your mother was already gravely ill. I brought in the best physician, managed the estate’s affairs by day, and stayed up nights caring for her. That's how her condition started to improve." Carissa wasn’t seeking praise. She was just laying out the facts of her exhausting year. "But seeing Aurora has made my mother feel even better," Barrett said earnestly. "I know this is unfair to you, but for the greater good, please support Aurora and me." Carissa lowered her eyes, as if blinking away the tears. But inspected closely, that's actually her sharpened gaze. "Invite General Yates over. I have a few things to ask her." "There's no need," Barrett refused instantly. "Carissa, she’s different from any woman you know. As a general, she’s above household squabbles and wouldn’t want to meet you." Carissa retorted, "What are women I know like? Or tell me, what kind of woman am I to you? Have you forgotten? I'm also the daughter of the Marquis's family. My father and my six brothers sacrificed on the Southern Frontier three years ago-" "That’s them," Barrett interrupted. "you're still a delicate woman suited only for home comforts, while Aurora has no respect for that. Besides, she never holds back her true thoughts. Trust me, you won't want to hear it from her." As Carissa looked up, the striking beauty mark under her eye became more evident in the light. Calmly, she said, "It’s fine. If she says anything unpleasant, I’ll ignore it. A true matriarch must understand the bigger picture and act with dignity. Don’t you trust me?" Barrett sighed in frustration. “Why put yourself through this? The king has approved this marriage, and Aurora will never threaten your control of the household. Carissa, she couldn't care less about those things.” “Oh, you think that's what I fear? Losing the control of this household?” Carissa countered. Little did Barrett know his household had been reduced to a hollow shell - managing it was a hot potato no one else would bear. Over the past year, it was Carissa's dowry alone that kept the Warren family’s life respectable, and this was her reward. “Enough,” Barrett snapped, his patience running thin. “I’ve done my duty by informing you. Your opinion won’t change anything.” As Carissa watched hum storm out, her bitterness deepened. “My lady, my lord has really crossed the line!” Lulu, Carissa’s maid, said, wiping her tears. “Don’t call him that!” Carissa gave her a stern look. “We never consummated the marriage. He’s not your lord. Now go fetch my dowry list.” “Why the dowry list?” Lulu asked, puzzled. Carissa tapped her on the forehead. “Silly girl, we need to reckon everything before we leave.” Lulu gasped. “Leave? But where can we go? To the Northwatch Estate?” Suddenly Lulu held her tongue, aware that she had touched the sensitive subject. She spared Carissa a guilty look, "I'll get the list now, my lady." Upon the mention of Northwatch Estate, the always restrained Carissa finally let her tears fall. When she was fifteen, her father, the Marquis of Northwatch, had sacrificed his life on the battlefield. Then, just six months ago, her entire family at the Northwatch Estate was brutally slaughtered — assassins rumored to be spies from the enemy nation, Westhaven. She rushed back after getting the news, only to find the dismembered bodies of her mother and grandmother. Even her youngest nephew, two years old, didn't escape death, neither. Now, she was the lone survivor of the marquis' family, the idea of restoring her family’s former glory seemed impossible—at least to outsiders. After all, she was presented mostly as a delicate, fragile woman, while Aurora Taytes had just made herself the first female general in history. It's only natural that the Warren family was more than happy to agree to the marriage. Yet, unbeknownst to the world, Carissa's martial talent was never beneath her father and brothers. If given a chance on the battlefield, she would definitely outshine Aurora Taytes, perhaps a million times more... Just then, Lulu had brought over the dowry list, "My lady, this year alone, you've spent over six thousand silver coins supporting the household. However, the shops, houses, and estates remain untouched. All the bank savings, along with the property deeds and land titles your mother left, are locked up in the chest." "I see." Carisse's gaze lingered on the list with melancholy. Her mother had given her such a substantial dowry, fearing she might face hardship in her husband's home. Yet now here she was. The Warren family had disregarded all her effort, and Barrett had even broken his vow to take no concubine - the very promise that led her mother to choose him over more eligible suitors, despite the Warren family’s fall from grace. 'Was this really the life mother wanted me to have?' It took Carissa no time to made up her mind. “Lulu, get prepared. There's somewhere we need to go tomorrow.” ... Early the next morning, Carissa and Lulu boarded a carriage, heading straight for the royal palace. It was noon by the time they arrived. Under the scorching autumn sun, Carissa and Lulu stood like statues in front of the palace gates. They waited for a full hour, but no one came to let them in. In the palace's study, Derek Walker had already reported Carissa’s arrival to the king three times. “Your Majesty, Mrs. Warren is still waiting outside the palace gates,” he repeated. The king, Salvador Quinton, set aside the document he was reading and rubbed his temples. “I can’t summon her in. The edict has been issued, and can't be taken back. Tell her to go home.” “The guards tried to persuade her, but she refused to leave. She’s been standing there for over an hour without moving.” Salvador felt a pang of guilt. “Barrett requested the marriage as a reward for his military service. I didn’t want to agree, either, but not granting it would embarrass both him and General Yates. They have after all won a big war.” “Your Majesty, when it comes to military achievements, no one can compare to the Marquis of Northwatch,” Derek countered. Salvador thought of Hector Sinclair, the Marquis of Northwatch. When Salvador was a crown prince who had recently joined the military, it was Hector who had guided him. Back then, he had also known Carissa when she was only a cute kid. Salvador himself had fought a bloody path to the throne, paved with death. He understood the struggles of military officers, so when Barrett requested marriage as a reward, Salvador had hesitated but eventually agreed. But Derek was right. In terms of military merit, Barrett and Aurora were far inferior to Hector Sinclair. “Alright, let her in. If she agrees to this marriage, I’ll grant her whatever she wants, even if it's a noble title or an official rank,” said Salvador. Derek breathed a sigh of relief. “As always, you're wise, Your Majesty!” ... Carissa knelt in the study with her head bowed. Recalling that Carissa was now the only one left the Sinclair family, Salvador felt nothing but pity for her. "Rise and speak," he commanded. Carissa bowed deeply with her hands clasped. "Your Majesty, I know it's presumptuous of me to seek an audience today. But I also wish to implore for your grace." "Carissa Sinclair, I have already issued the edict of marriage. It's impossible to revoke it," Salvador said. Carissa shook her head gently. "Your Majesty, I'm not imploring you to reverse that edict, but imploring you for another edict - an amicable divorce with General Warren." The young king was taken aback. "Divorce? You want a divorce?" Carissa nodded her head firmly. She was never someone to pester some man. If Barret Warren loved Aurora Yates so much, then she would let him go. What she needed now was a single edict for an amicable divorce, so she could take away all her dowery and get rid of the despicable Warren family for good, dignified and head high...	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2,641,999	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2641570}'	Yes	2024-12-11 21:13	active	1993	😍Read the next chapters👉	Chapter 1 "You'll have the test results in about an hour." The nurse's smile was gentle and reassuring as she took the vial of blood from Madeline Sanders. Madeline held a cotton swab to her arm and settled into a chair in the waiting area. She was a bit pale, but her eyes sparkled with hope. She had a hunch she was conceived, and that hospital visit was just to make sure. Three years ago, Trevon Gibson was involved in a terrible car crash that left him comatose, with doctors saying he would never wake up. Lydia Sanders, Trevon's high school sweetheart and Madeline's half-sister, did not waste any time and jetted off abroad for her studies. Somehow, Trevon's grandmother—Edith Gibson—figured that Madeline was Trevon's lucky charm and insisted she marry him. The Gibson family promised to care for Madeline's mother, who was lost in her own world of madness. Madeline felt trapped but agreed to the marriage. Little did everyone know that Madeline was secretly in love with Trevon for years. To everyone's surprise, Trevon woke up after the wedding. However, Madeline's joy was short-lived. Trevon's first words to her were icy and calculated. "Out of respect for my grandmother, I'll take you as Mrs. Gibson for three years. When Lydia returns in three years, I will marry her." Madeline had braced herself to play along with that deal, ready to step aside when the time came. However, life threw a curveball a month and a half ago. Trevon stumbled home after drowning his sorrows in wine that day, and Madeline single-handedly managed to drag him inside. Supporting a drunken Trevon was like moving a boulder—each step a battle of strength. Madeline and Trevon could no longer keep themselves upright and crumpled to the floor just inside the front door. Their lips brushed together in the fall, an accidental kiss that sent Madeline's heart racing. Trevon was a notorious germaphobe, avoiding physical contact like the plague. However, that unexpected kiss seemed to unlock something in him, and he leaned in for another. Madeline was caught off guard, but she did not resist. Later, in the quiet aftermath, Madeline could not bear to stay in the bed they shared. She tiptoed around the sleeping Trevon, erasing any trace of what had happened between them. The hospital was a hive of activity, but Madeline felt alone in the crowd. With trembling hands, she opened the lab results. 'Early stage of conceive. Recommend a follow-up ultrasound.' Joy flickered across her face, quickly hidden behind her hand to muffle her giggles. Regardless of the state of her marriage, that baby was a precious gift. She was eager to tell Trevon, her fingers hovering over her phone. However, she hesitated. Trevon's germaphobia was not just about objects—it extended to people. She had seen him scrub his hands raw after a mere handshake. However, wine had loosened his inhibitions that one night. Would he believe the baby was his? Doubt clouded Madeline's mind, bringing a headache and a wave of nausea. She was jostled as a group of doctors in white coats rushed by, nearly sending her phone flying. "Emergency! Please step aside," a nurse said, flashing Madeline a quick, apologetic smile before dashing off. Madeline took a deep breath, watching the commotion unfold. Her gaze drifted to the emergency room doors without much thought. However, in a heartbeat, her eyes widened in shock. Trevon was there, shielding Lydia as they stepped down from the ambulance. He guided her gently onto a stretcher and, with a team around them, made a beeline for the VIP suite. A chilling shiver sliced through Madeline, her knees buckling as she clung to the nearby railing for support. Lydia was back. In the hospital room, the doctor briefed Trevon. "It seems like a mild concussion, but we'll need the test results to be sure." Trevon's expression was serious. "Speed it up. Use the VIP route." Lydia, stretched out on the gurney, smiled weakly at Trevon. "You're always so kind to me." Lydia pouted as she continued, "I wasn't paying attention. Who would've thought a bike bump could lead to a concussion? In Ameristan, people usually slow down on their own." Trevon gave her a fleeting, detached look. A flicker of worry crossed Lydia's face. "Trevon, with Skylandia's tight deadlines, isn't my accident going to set us back a lot?" Skylandia was the latest venture from Trevon's gaming empire, Xystos Tech, and Lydia had returned to lead the art on it. "I won't stay here. I have to get back to work," she declared, attempting to get out of bed. Trevon was quick to intervene, his hand on her shoulder easing her back down. "Don't be childish." As the tender scene unfolded, Madeline watched them outside the VIP room with gritted teeth. Trevon was notorious for his meticulous ways, but he did have a soft spot. He was not always distant. He just saved all his warmth for Lydia. Madeline felt a wave of emotion as she teared up. She touched her nose and fought the tears. Without really knowing why, she found herself pulling out her phone and calling Trevon. In the sterile silence of the hospital room, Trevon's face froze for a moment as he checked his phone, then casually handed it off to his assistant, Simon Taylors. "Tell her I'm tied up in a meeting." Madeline's heart clenched as Trevon's annoyed expression flickered across his face. Simon, moving to the side, answered Madeline's call softly. "Hello, Mrs. Gibson. Mr. Gibson is busy in a meeting. Is there something you need?" Madeline's lips twitched with a defeated smile. "No, it's nothing. I just hit the wrong button." Simon frowned. "Mr. Gibson's schedule is packed. Please be more careful in the future, Mrs. Gibson." The future? Was there even a future to speak of? Lydia, overhearing Simon, gave Trevon a subtle glance. She casually showed off the pink Hello Kitty bandage on her hand. Trevon's eyes snapped to it, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "You still haven't kicked that old habit, I see." Lydia forced a smile. "Well, you know I've always been fond of Hello Kitty." Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to soften. Madeline could not stand it any longer. Clutching her phone, she turned around and left. She thought one night could change things, but it was just wishful thinking. Despite the autumn season, Redenbaugh City was sweltering, and the hospital's air conditioning was cranked up, sending chills down her spine. She felt light-headed, as if she were floating on air. Suddenly, a little boy darted into her path, bumping into her. Madeline's face went pale as she caught the little boy, but in doing so, she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. The fall sent a chill up her spine, and she held her belly, too afraid to move. The boy, however, started wailing, drawing curious glances from passersby. His mother rushed over and gave him a quick once-over. When she found him unscathed, she pulled him into a tight embrace before turning to Madeline with fury. "Can't you watch where you're going? You ran into my baby! How will you make this right?" Madeline, her mind on the baby she was carrying, bit back her pain and chose not to retaliate. Instead, she made her way to the maternity ward upstairs. The mother was not having it, yanking on Madeline's arm. "You think you can just hit someone and leave?" Madeline, nearly tripping over, turned slightly and offered calmly, "Should we review the security footage?" The woman, clutching her son, stormed off. Madeline felt her vision darken as she clutched her chest. She leaned against the railing, immobilized. In the VIP ward, Lydia gazed at Trevon longingly and leaned in for a kiss. Trevon, who was aloof, felt a wave of nausea as she got close. His vision blurred, and his chest tightened. He flinched and shoved Lydia away. Chapter 2 "Here's the divorce agreement. Take a look." Trevon, fresh from the hospital, confronted Madeline with a request for divorce. The image of Lydia's hurt look lingered in his mind, leaving him with a sense of resignation. His rejection was not just about his aversion to germs. It was also the sudden sickness and weakness that overtook him. He dismissed it as a one-off, which was not worth worrying about. However, faced with Madeline, the discomfort was undeniable. Madeline, still reeling from her hospital visit, was blindsided by the divorce papers laid out before her. It took a moment for her to find her voice, and when she did, it quivered. "Do we really have to end this?" "Yes." Madeline's grip tightened, and the question she could not suppress spilled out. "Is it because Lydia's back?" Trevon loosened his tie, his face turning to stone. "Didn't I make myself clear three years ago?" He had, and she had accepted it. However… "If... Just if..." Madeline hesitated, biting her lip. Trevon was impatient. "Madeline, you can't always want more." She looked up sharply, disbelief etched on her face. Did he think she was haggling over the divorce terms? With several deliberate taps on the table, Trevon continued, "Indeed, you've done everything required of being a wife these past three years. There's a modest place near Johnsrud. It's yours now. That's the best I can do. Don't make me lose respect for you." Madeline's response was trapped in her throat as she smiled bitterly. Three years of marriage, and her reward was a house. Should she be thankful? He was determined to get the divorce over with, by any means necessary. There was no need to mention the baby. It would only complicate how he saw her. She did not need a man whose heart belonged to another. Madeline felt nauseous, feeling like she needed to purge immediately. She crouched down to clutch the bin and gagged, but nothing came up. Trevon watched, his brow furrowed in disbelief. Why did her sickness stir something in him? Was it a mere coincidence? Seeing her ashen face, it was clear she was unwell. Trevor gave Madeline a questioning look. "Are you sick? When did it start? What's wrong?" Madeline felt the urge to throw up but could not, which only intensified her discomfort. Clinging to the trash can seemed like the only thing she could do. At the sound of his question, her fingers tensed uncontrollably. She forced a casual response. "Maybe it's just a cold. No big deal." "Answer me!" His voice turned sharp, sending a jolt through Madeline, and she murmured almost without thinking. "This afternoon, when you were… I'm just feeling a bit of chest tightness, weak limbs, and a touch of nausea. Typical cold symptoms." She did not bring up the hospital visit, quickly labeling it a cold to avoid any wild guesses. The timing and the symptoms lined up perfectly. 'So, it's because we caught a cold at the same time?' Trevon wondered. Madeline finally let go of her resistance. She deliberately avoided the divorce papers on the table and fetched the sour orange she had bought earlier from the fridge. Her mouth was unbearably uncomfortable, and she craved the relief of something sour. After all, she would need some strength in her hand to sign those papers. The moment she took out the sour orange, its tangy scent filled the room. Catching a glimpse of Trevon standing to the side, watching her with a frown, she hesitated before offering, "Want one?" Trevon looked away, clearly uninterested. Madeline chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. You're not into sour stuff." However, as she sliced into the vibrant sour orange and its juicy interior burst with a potent tangy aroma, Trevon seemed unable to look away. Madeline was about to take a bite when she noticed Trevon approaching. His towering presence felt like a wall closing in, making the kitchen feel smaller by the second. Instinctively, Madeline stepped back. "If you don't like it, then I'll just..." Before she could finish, Trevon was at the sink, lathering up with soap, washing his hands with deliberate care three times before reaching for a piece of the sour orange. He scrunched his forehead, eyeing the orange for a long moment before popping it into his mouth. Madeline's jaw dropped in astonishment. However, Trevon did not spit it out. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before looking at her seriously. "Next time, make sure the knife's washed three times, okay?" The urge to bite into that tangy orange slice was irresistible. Sure enough, the sour kick seemed to soothe his queasy stomach. It was not just some bug. His nausea had kicked in right after Madeline's, as if he was only sick because she was. What was up with that? Trevon made a mental note to get to the bottom of it. Madeline gave a simple "Oh" in response. They finished the orange together, a moment of closeness they had not felt in three years. After washing her hands, Madeline looked up at Trevon. Sharing that sour fruit seemed to have bridged the gap between them, if only a little. However, their journey together was nearing its end. She murmured, "I'll sign the divorce papers." It was like cashing out after three years. A million and five hundred thousand, and a house to her name. She was coming out ahead. When she was about to sign, Trevon snatched the papers away. "We'll add another house to the deal. Wait for the lawyer's final draft." Madeline nodded, still in a daze. Suddenly, Trevon's phone buzzed and Lydia's whiny voice came through as he picked up the call. "Trevon, when are you coming? I'm bored." Madeline gripped her pen so hard her thumb whitened, nearly snapping it. Trevon ended the call, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. Madeline stepped forward, her voice tinged with concern. "How am I supposed to explain this to Grandma?" "We'll talk when I'm back," Trevon replied before the door slammed shut behind him. The house, once filled with life, echoed with emptiness. Madeline chuckled at herself, shook off the silence, and went to the kitchen to whip up some noodles. After all, she had to think about the little one growing inside her. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Expecting Trevon, who might have forgotten something, she swung the door open only to be greeted by unwelcome faces. Madeline's warmth vanished. "What are you two doing here?" Cilix Sanders, her father, smiled and said, "You weren't picking up, so your mom and I thought we'd drop by." Her phone did show a string of missed calls. Ignoring their calls was nothing new, but their sudden visit was unexpected. "My mom's lost her mind, locked up in Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital. Did you forget to visit her, or did you forget she's there?" Skylar Lowe, Madeline's stepmother, stood beside Cilix in her flawless outfit. She looked nothing like someone who had toiled in the fields. However, her sharp and calculative eyes matched her biting tone. "Such disrespect! Where are your manners?" Madeline was furious. If she truly lacked manners, Skylar would have been long gone. It was Skylar's appearance, after all, that had tipped her mother over the edge. However, Madeline had been biding her time, collecting proof. They would all pay, eventually. Pushing down the bile, she asked coolly, "So, what brings you here?" "Let's talk inside," was all they said. Once they were in, Madeline poured water into two glasses, her hands steady as stone. Madeline's calm and compliant facade only fueled Skylar's ego. With an arrogant head tilt, she announced, "Your sister's back in town. It's time you end things with Trevon and give up your title as Mrs. Gibson to her!" Madeline fought the impulse to douse Skylar with water as she gripped the kettle firmly. "Give it up? I'm not following you." Madeline's gaze shifted to Cilix. "You told me when Trevon was in that coma, the company was strapped for cash. Marrying Trevon was the only way to afford my mom's medical bills. I married into the Gibson family for the sake of the Sanders family. How did Lydia end up taking my place as the daughter-in-law of the Gibson family?" Chapter 3 "I was looking out for the Sanders family too," Cilix said as he sipped his water. "The Sanders-Gibson family alliance is crucial. Three years by Trevon's side, and what? No kids, no hold on his heart, no benefits for the Sanders family. Now that Lydia's back, along with her bond with Trevon, these issues will vanish. I can even afford better care for your mother." Cilix's duplicity struck Madeline once more. Madeline countered, "Did you forget why Lydia left the country? Or do you think the Gibsons have forgotten too?" "That's why we're asking you to initiate the divorce with Trevon," Cilix replied. Madeline saw right through their plot. She would step aside, letting Lydia take the lead, and the Sanders family would reap all the rewards. After a tense silence, Madeline broke the ice. "I'm willing to divorce Trevon, but on one condition. I want my mom's shares—the ones she's entitled to." Cilix instantly became furious. Once upon a time, the Sanders family was a picture of unity. Cilix, who came from nothing, married Bella Ziegler—Madeline's mother—and quickly turned his fortune around with a garment factory. However, Bella paid a steep price, severing ties with her own family. It was not until Skylar—previously 'Jolene', with her kids in tow—showed up that Bella realized the magnitude of her mistake. She battled depression for years, and the strain of the revelation only deepened her illness. That was when Cilix dropped the divorce bomb. He played the bankruptcy card during the split, claiming all assets were tied up. Bella was left with scraps. However, once the divorce papers were signed, Cilix's business miraculously bounced back. Ever the opportunist, Cilix kept footing Bella's medical bills, basking in the glow of his newfound reputation. Madeline only pieced it all together as she grew up—her mother had been played. She had been nursing a plan to set things right ever since. The meeting ended with frosty treatment all around. Madeline shut the door behind them, collapsed onto the couch, and lost herself in the darkness outside the window. … Dawn's light crept into the room. Madeline shielded her eyes and took a moment to adjust before getting up reluctantly. Nausea washed over her in an unforgiving wave. Trevon had not come home all night. Madeline's emotions were a mess—resignation laced with a hint of disappointment. However, above all, there was relief. It was as if her decision to let go the day before had freed her from hope. Madeline sank back into the pillows. The click of the electronic lock signaled an arrival at the door. Madeline glanced up, and there was Lydia, swathed in designer elegance, striding in with a smile that could light up the room. "Madeline, it's been ages." Rising slowly, Madeline perched on the edge of the couch, her eyes a storm of loathing. "Who said you could come in? Leave!" Lydia's smile only grew. "Trevon sent me, of course. He spent last night at the hospital with me, then dashed off to work at dawn. He asked me to pick up a suit for him." A shadow crossed Madeline's face. So, Trevon was with Lydia last night. She had waited like a fool on that couch all night long, clinging to his promise. 'We'll talk when I get back.' "You're just like your mother, always the homewrecker," Madeline spat. Lydia's laughter rang out. "Who's the real homewrecker? It's the unloved one. Even the lock's code is my birthday. Trevon's heart is still with me. Madeline, you've been using my birthday to open this door for the past three years. That must sting, doesn't it?" Madeline's eyes flickered, her grip tightening on the blanket. She inhaled sharply before smiling mockingly. "Is technology that archaic where you come from? We've moved on to facial recognition, or fingerprints at the very least. Key codes are a thing of the past." Lydia's smile faltered, her composure slipping for a split second. "Outdated or not, Trevon's word is law." Madeline could not be bothered with petty squabble. Her nausea was getting worse. She gestured toward Trevon's bedroom. "His stuff's in there. Help yourself." With a smug grin, Lydia disappeared into the room and emerged moments later, a bundle of clothes in her arms. Before she took off, she sauntered over to Madeline, flashed her hand, and there it was—a dazzling diamond ring. There was also that cutesy pink bandage on her finger. "My mom says you're dragging your feet on the divorce—kinda funny, don't you think? Trevon's put a ring on it, so why embarrass yourself? Time to get a clue." She leaned in, whispering to Madeline, "Face it, you've never been able to outdo me in anything since we were kids." Old memories came rushing back. Her favorite things, her mentors, her dad, her very home—Lydia had snatched them all away with just a few words. Madeline squinted and swiftly yanked the bandage off Lydia's hand. "You've always been into taking my stuff, huh?" She eyed Lydia's pristine hand and tossed the bandage into the bin with a look of disgust. "Bandages are disposable. Get a new one, and it's as good as ever. However, you know what's really scary about a guy who's been down the aisle twice?" Madeline rose to her feet, locking eyes with Lydia as she smiled slyly. "It's the lingering lessons from his ex. His style, habits, tastes, thoughts—they're all tinged with the ghost of the woman before you. Chew on that. Good luck." "Madeline!" Ignoring her, Madeline grabbed a bag of clothes and thrust it into Lydia's arms. "So long, no need for goodbyes!" Behind the wheel on her way to work, Lydia smacked the steering wheel, Madeline's parting shot replaying in her head. The phone buzzed. Lydia answered with a huff. "What's up with the wake-up call?" Wren Naylor, Lydia's assistant, hesitated before speaking up with caution. "Ms. Sanders, the planning team wants to add an illustrator to the project. They've already picked someone out." "They've what now? Since when does planning get to call the shots on art hires? They really need to stay in their lane." Wren stayed quiet. Lydia bit back her frustration. "Alright, I'm heading to the office soon. I'll sort it out with them." Instead of going to her department when she arrived at the office, Lydia went to the top floor to drop off some clothes for Trevon. Trevon accepted the clothes, but his brow creased in confusion. Lydia felt a twinge of worry. "Something wrong with the clothes?" They were definitely not his usual brand. Madeline would not slip up like that. "Madeline wasn't there when you picked these up?" Realizing the brand mismatch, Lydia understood her mistake. Madeline's earlier words echoed in her head. Lydia bit her lip, looking hurt. "Madeline just handed me these and shooed me out when I arrived. You know she's never been fond of me." She sighed resignedly and continued, "Typical Madeline, knowing you're in a rush and still acting petty with me. Should I run to the store and grab you a new set?" Trevon cut her off. "Don't bother. You've got work to do." Lydia clammed up, stepping back into silence. Trevon let out a quiet sigh. "Don't sweat it. It's not your fault. Clothes are the least of our worries. We've got the Skylandia project to focus on." In just a week, Skylandia would unveil its magical realms to eager eyes, with artistry at its heart. Lydia, fresh from her hiatus, was steering that ship—the crown jewel of the year for Xystos Tech. She knew the drill, but duty called, and she stepped out with a promise to return for lunch. Madeline, alone then, rinsed a handful of cherry tomatoes, trying to quell the unease bubbling inside her. She scrolled through her phone, the barrage of prenatal check-ups looming large and daunting. Midway through her meticulous note-taking, the doorbell chimed. She opened the door to find Simon pulling a long face. Chapter 4 "Mr. Gibson sent me some clothes." Madeline raised an eyebrow. "Again?" Simon's eyes flickered with annoyance as he asked, "Why'd you send Mrs. Yagle's clothes?" Simon referred to Trevon's mom, Riley Yagle—a woman whose kindness was only matched by her absentmindedness. Madeline recalled the ill-fitting, off-brand clothes that Trevon probably ditched without a second thought. "Mr. Gibson says, 'Don't get snippy and hold things up,'" Simon relayed with a hint of sternness. Madeline could not help but chuckle, amused by his blind trust. "Lydia told Trevon I picked out the clothes?" Did Trevon need to believe everything Lydia said? Simon rushed her along. Madeline handed him a fresh set of clothes, but her grip lingered as she responded steadily. "Simon, you've been Trevon's right-hand man for what, three, four years now? Do you realize why you're still at the bottom rung, just an assistant? You're good at sizing people up by their titles, but that's not really a skill an assistant needs. Why don't you take a page from Mr. Harris's book?" Trevon did have a star assistant—Daniel Harris—who was so capable that he was sent overseas to handle big deals. That was when Simon got the call to step in. Simon's face went through a mixture of pale and flushed as he absorbed her criticism. Madeline, who was usually quiet, had just thrown shade in his face. He bit back his retort, finally huffing in annoyance and storming off. Madeline let out a soft laugh, brushing off the encounter. With visiting hours ticking closer, Madeline headed to Sunshine Psychiatric Hospital to see Bella. It was more of a wellness retreat than a hospital, nestled right next to Redenbaugh City's fanciest private clinic. Getting in was not easy, but thanks to the Gibson family pulling strings, Bella got a spot. Madeline wheeled her mom out into the courtyard, catching her up on the week's gossip and happenings. Bella was her usual self—unresponsive and staring off into space. Madeline sighed and took her mom's hand, resting it gently on her belly. "Mom, right here, there's a little one on the way. Even with Trevon talking about divorce, I'm keeping this baby. You've got to come back to us. Who will help me with this little one if you don't?" She nestled against Bella's legs, craving the comfort of her mother's presence. Unseen by Madeline, Bella's eyes flickered—a brief, almost missed flutter. "Madeline?" A voice, laced with surprise, called out for her. Madeline looked up to see a man in a lab coat looking her way. The sun was blinding, and Madeline squinted without recognizing the figure before her. There was something oddly familiar about the silhouette. It was not until he was close that she could see it was Caleb Jabs, her old college friend. With a warm smile, Caleb teased, "Madeline, can't you recognize an old friend after just three years?" He opened his arms for a hug, like nothing had changed. Madeline hesitated, then offered a hand for a handshake instead. Caleb's smile faltered, then returned. "Right, we're not on campus anymore." He shook her hand before releasing it, stealing a glance at the wedding ring on her finger. Through their chat, Madeline learned that he had just returned from overseas and that his uncle was running the local private hospital. Caleb nodded toward Bella with a slight smile. "And who is this?" Madeline's smile vanished. "My mom. She's been like this since she had a breakdown three years ago." A breakdown? It looked serious, as if she had lost all touch with the world. What could have caused it? Caleb pushed down his questions, his heart aching for Madeline. "These past three years must've been tough on you." Madeline seemed more grounded than in her college days, but her eyes were shadowed with concern. Madeline shook her head. "It's time for us to head back." She was not one to bare her soul to just anyone. As she rose to leave, she wobbled slightly. Caleb reached out to steady her. "You're looking a bit pale. Maybe you should get checked out." Madeline steadied herself and took a step back. "It's just low blood sugar. I'm fine." Caleb watched Madeline sidestep with a calm smile, not the least bit ruffled. "Back in college, you were always dealing with low blood sugar. Still battling that, huh? Skipped breakfast today?" He was already taking the wheelchair's handles as he spoke, and Madeline allowed it. They got Bella settled and swapped numbers. Then, Caleb pressed a chocolate bar into her hand. "For your sugar levels, have a bite." Madeline's laughter bubbled up. "Caleb, you still keep chocolate on you after all this time?" "Just a habit," he said with a chuckle. That little piece of chocolate seemed to bridge the gap that had grown between them. "How about lunch? It's already noon." Madeline bit her lip, uncertain. However, Caleb was already tugging her along. "There's this great little place I know nearby. You'll love it." Trevon managed to swing by the hospital after his meeting wrapped up. The doctors gave him a clean bill of health. They suggested bringing Madeline in, thinking she might be the key to why he felt off. He left the hospital with that thought, only to see Madeline and Caleb, all smiles, heading into a cozy diner. Madeline's smile was something new, something he had never seen, and it stopped him in his tracks. He took a moment before climbing into his car. From the driver's seat, Simon caught Trevon in the mirror. "Mr. Gibson, wasn't that Mrs. Gibson? Should we pick her up?" Trevon watched them disappear into the diner, a place he would never dream of entering. "No, let's not," he murmured. Simon arched an eyebrow, shot a look of faint scorn at the diner, and sped off. Trevon was reclining in the back seat, eyes closed, soaking in a moment of peace. A few minutes in, a wave of relief washed over him, leaving him feeling surprisingly refreshed. It took him a moment to realize that he was embodying Madeline's happiness. What could possibly be so special about that little shop to make her that cheerful? However, that sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles they served was exceptional—tangy and invigorating. It had been days since Madeline had enjoyed a meal so thoroughly. She even decided to get an extra serving to go. Caleb chuckled. "Noodles never taste as good reheated. Wait, didn't you love spicy food? What's with the switch?" Madeline smiled. "I haven't really switched. This is just that good." She was known for her love of spicy dishes, and even Trevon, the health nut, had found his tastes swayed by her. It was hard to argue with Madeline's culinary magic. Her cooking was irresistible to most. Back home, Madeline had barely set down her takeout when her phone rang. It was Yeneth Collins, her best friend. "Madeline, I've got some good and bad news." Feeling a bit worn out, Madeline sank into the couch. "Go on." "The good news is that you've been chosen to draw the new character for Skylandia. They've sent the contract over to you already." A spark of excitement flickered across Madeline's face as she reached for her laptop to check her email. "And the bad news?" Yeneth sighed heavily. "Lydia is the new art director for Skylandia. She just got the job today. I wouldn't have pushed you to take this gig if I'd known." Since marrying Trevon right after college, Madeline had not returned to the workforce, finding solace and passion in her art. Her style was distinctive, not exactly mainstream, with a focus on creating captivating illustrations. When Yeneth got involved with Skylandia, she thought Madeline's artwork was a perfect fit and put her name forward. Madeline smiled. "No way. The contract's terms are decent. Can't miss an opportunity of making money just because of her." She was always hustling for cash, especially with Bella's medical bills piling up. It meant biting her tongue whenever the Sanders family got tight-fisted. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" "Totally. I freelance under the name 'Lily Mora'. Who will connect the dots?" Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open as Trevon walked in. Chapter 5 Madeline's instinct was to snap her laptop shut. "Give me a second." She quickly ended the call and turned to face Trevon. "What's got you home at this hour?" Trevon eyed her hurried movements and washed his hands before replying, "Just needed to pick something up." Madeline responded with a noncommittal hum. His gaze landed on a nearby takeaway box. It was the sour beef and cabbage soup with noodles. It looked just like the one she had had for lunch. Was it really that tasty? A jolt of panic hit Madeline, and she blurted out, "It's for Yeneth, not me." Back when they were newlyweds, Madeline had grabbed some street sausages, and Trevon had gone into a tailspin, bombarding her with articles about the filth of street vendors and the dangers of eating out. Since then, she had avoided eating street food around him. However, she had slipped up and forgotten to stash the evidence. Trevon's chuckle was detached as his eyes drifted to a notebook on the table. Madeline's heart was pounding, and she pushed aside the wave of nausea to dash toward the notebook—her secret journal of conceive appointments. The last thing she wanted was for Trevon to find out she was expecting. However, Trevon was quicker. He stretched out his arm and lifted the notebook from Madeline's reach. Without regard for her protests, he calmly flipped it open. The 'Prenatal Appointment Schedule' header stared back at him. He raised an eyebrow, his cool gaze landing on Madeline. Madeline felt her heart jump into her throat. "Is this for Yeneth, too?" Trevon asked. "Huh?" Caught off guard, Madeline quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Yeneth's getting married, thinking about having kids, so I was helping her research." Trevon's suspicion did not wane. "So, why the panic?" Madeline's forehead creased. She let go of the notebook and looked away. "I didn't want you to think I was up to something." Madeline's beauty was marred by her recent illness. Her pale face was then tinged with the flush of sickness, making her look even more vulnerable. Trevon felt a twinge in his chest, and his annoyance grew. Her cold was messing with his work. He tossed the notebook back to Madeline. "I don't have time for this. You should be resting, not running around. If you show up to a divorce proceeding looking like this, people will think I'm the bad guy." Madeline silently clutched the notebook with her head bowed. … At the steakhouse, Lydia stared at her barely touched steak, her mood souring by the minute. When she heard Trevon returned to the Angelic Garden Residence, her annoyance turned to outright anger. "Madeline, that witch!" She whipped out her phone and dialed Skylar's number. Madeline had just reviewed the casting call from Skylandia, wrapped up her draft, and was stretching after a long day when Skylar's call came through. "Get over here tonight. If you don't show up, I'm tossing your mom's stuff." The line went dead. Madeline thought she had taken care of all Bella's things, so what could possibly be left at the Sanders' place? She could not risk it, so she hailed a cab and headed over. The Sanders' mansion was ablaze with lights, screaming new money from every gilded corner. Madeline stood at the entrance, taking in the garish display, and figured Skylar was behind it. Skylar greeted her with a grin, tugging her inside. "I just knew you'd come." Madeline jerked her hand away. "Cut the act, Skylar. There's no one else here. I did what you asked, so where's my mom's stuff?" Chapter 6 Before Skylar could answer, a sharp snap echoed from the side. "Madeline, watch how you talk to my mom!" It was Yale Sanders, Lydia's little brother. With his shoulder-length purple hair and arms sleeved in tattoos, he looked every bit the wannabe gangster. He had been coddled by Skylar all his life, and with the Sanders' wealth, he had gathered a gang of street toughs to back him up. Madeline did not expect him to be there but gave him a cool look and brushed him off. Just then, Cilix descended the stairs, his voice cutting through the air. "Yale!" Yale sulked, his lips puckered as he flopped onto the sofa, clearly annoyed. Cilix motioned for Madeline to take a seat at the dining table. "It's not every day we get your sister back home. I figured a family dinner was in order. Have a seat, will you? I had Mom whip up your favorite fish tacos." Skylar quickly dished some out for her. The oily sheen and the subtle fishy scent made Madeline wrinkle her nose and push the plate away. "I caught a cold and lost my appetite. I'm just here to grab a few things, and I'll be out." Cilix squinted, and Skylar, unable to contain herself, plopped down next to Madeline. "When are you planning on divorcing Trevon, huh? Your dad and I have already scoped out a new guy for you. He's ready to tie the knot and won't wait forever." A resigned feeling washed over Madeline. With a mocking smile, she murmured, "Really? Who's this wonderful match?" Skylar perked up and replied, "He's from a solid family. One of your dad's business partners. The guy owns a string of factories. Marry him, and you'll be the boss. They wouldn't even look twice at a divorcee if it wasn't for your dad's connections." She made it sound like a fairy tale. Madeline cut to the chase. "The owner of these factories? How old?" Skylar hesitated, then chuckled. "Not too old. He's just a bit over forty and in the prime of his life. It'll be your second marriage, so you can't afford to be choosy. Plus, they've promised to cut your dad a deal if you marry in. Consider it a tribute to your mom." Three years had passed, and Madeline's disdain for her family's ways was as strong as ever. She glared at Cilix. "Over forty? You're okay with this, being not much older yourself?" Cilix looked pained as he spoke, "Skylar's just trying to do what's best for you. Remarrying and bringing your mom into the mix, finding someone okay with that wasn't easy. Skylar really went out of her way for you." Skylar nodded earnestly. It had indeed been a challenge. Madeline needed to be married off and kept far away to avoid causing Lydia any more headaches. "Don't worry, the guy doesn't have kids. Everything in the future will be yours and your children's. It's a real stroke of luck." Madeline suddenly chimed in, "It's true. These kinds of terms are hard to come by. You've really outdone yourself, but…" Breaking from her usual composure, Madeline locked eyes with Cilix. "I was clear yesterday. I just want what my mom is entitled to—her shares. Those shares are peanuts compared to being Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family." Cilix remained expressionless, but his eyes were calculative. "Your mom's shares?" Thinking she had swayed Cilix, Skylar piped up in a shrill tone. "What shares does her mother have? The Sanders family fortune is all thanks to me and Cilix. It's got nothing to do with your loony mom." Madeline's glare whipped towards Skylar, sharp enough to shut her up. "Apologize." "Why should I? Your mom's the crazy one." Without warning, a cup of scalding water splashed across Skylar's face, and she let out a scream. However, before Madeline could react, she was yanked back forcefully. A second later, she was punched in the face. "You owe her an apology!" Chapter 7 Each word Yale spat was accompanied by a punch landing on Madeline. Madeline shielded herself with her purse, narrowly avoiding a serious injury. Blinded by anger, she had not thought things through, never imagining Yale would actually hit her. Conceived had left her weak, and she could only dodge Yale's vicious blows in a clumsy dance of desperation. The Sanders family seemed petrified by the spectacle, each too scared to even twitch. Cilix wanted to speak, but Skylar cut him off. "What's Yale got, a little muscle? Let her take a hit. It might teach her to listen." Cilix's face darkened as he sat back down. She had written her dad off long ago, but the sting of disappointment was as sharp as ever. As Yale moved in again, Madeline knew she was on her own. With a swift kick, she toppled a chair and snatched a fruit knife from the table, aiming it straight at him. "One more step, and I swear I'll stab you!" Yale, thrown off by the chair, nearly slipped. He wiped his mouth and sneered. "You think you've got the guts?" Knife in hand, Madeline's face was ghostly, but her eyes blazed with defiance, "Try me. I'm still Mrs. Gibson of the Gibson family. If I take you down, they'll make sure it never sees the light of day." Her gaze flicked to Cilix. "You think our dad's got the spine to cross the Gibsons for you?" Yale did not budge. Skylar stepped forward with a nervous chuckle. "Come on, we're family. Knives? Really? Madeline, put it down." Madeline looked at Skylar icily and aimed the knife at her. "Stay back." Skylar froze, then looked pleadingly at Cilix. Cilix broke the silence. "Madeline, what's going on?" Madeline stood there with a cold expression, ignoring the blood that had started to drip from the corner of her mouth. She bit her lip, refusing to say a word. The recent scuffle had taken a toll on her, leaving her with a heavy feeling in her chest. She was afraid she would throw up if she opened her mouth. However, she was determined not to let them see her weakness. Amid the tense moment, the nanny burst in with unexpected joy. "Mr. Gibson and Ms. Sanders have arrived!" The pair entered the room. Trevon's face was a mask of seriousness, his lips pressed into a thin line. Lydia, catching sight of the knife in Madeline's grip, let out a sharp cry. "Madeline! Why are you holding a knife? What are you planning to do?" Cilix rose swiftly to welcome Trevon. "Mr. Gibson, please come in. Let's sit and talk. Madeline, put that knife down now." With a glance at Trevon, Madeline reluctantly set the knife aside. Skylar exhaled in relief and grumbled, "This is all Madeline's doing, causing a scene for no reason. Since when do we bring knives into family disputes?" Madeline inhaled deeply, pushing down the wave of nausea, and retorted with a frosty laugh. "So, now it's all my fault, just like that? I'm trying to do the right thing here, and I'm still the one to blame?" "Is this enough for you?" Trevon's voice, frosty and laced with anger, cut through the room. He had been feeling sick to his stomach the whole way there. That sensation had become all too familiar in the last couple of days, and he did not need to guess—it was Madeline's doing again. He had warned her just at lunchtime to take it easy, but what did she do? She ran off to her family's home to pick a fight, knife in hand. She might not be bothered by it, but he was fed up. The room fell silent. Madeline looked at him in disbelief. Was he really going to blame her without even asking why? Trevon had no interest in dragging out the conversation. He grabbed Madeline's hand and led her away with urgency. Madeline stumbled as he pulled her along, a sharp pain throbbing in her heart. Lydia tried to keep up, her voice tinged with concern. "Trevon, you haven't eaten yet." He barely paused, his voice dismissive. "Some other time." With that, he ushered Madeline into the car and shut the door behind her.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&ut	Random Reading	https://www.facebook.com/61560831098071/	21	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=10922&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/449437764_2559123607604310_3298283948021123177_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=101&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=JJYwiO0nrlQQ7kNvgEXbKrz&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=ArIIDKDj5Cs6hvCXbkG9qFO&oh=00_AYDsPgLiZVgMx7E5x0trQIqkxJekHyANnb42hB0XwTeWfA&oe=67602B9F	PERSON_PROFILE	Random Reading	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,917	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) null	No	2024-12-11 21:21	active	1993	Buffalo Wild Wings Fundraiser	It's going to be a great night if you've got case of the Mondays (or if you just want to support us)! For one day only from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m., 15% of your bill (less alcohol) will be donated to our cause (dine in or take out). Come out to Buffalo Wild Wings on Starkey Road to have a great meal, see some of our wildlife ambassadors, and watch 2 different Monday Night Football games (Chicago @ Minnesota and Atlanta @ Las Vegas)! Just show a physical or digital ticket, like the yellow and black one here, to your server and make a difference for wildlife!	EVENT_RSVP	https://www.facebook.com/events/905299775054164/	Southwest Virginia Wildlife Center of Roanoke	https://www.facebook.com/SWVAWILDLIFE/	36,510	1969-12-31 18:00	INTERESTED	Buffalo Wild Wings Fundraiser	EVENT	It's going to be a great night if you've got case of the Mondays (or if you just want to support us)! For one day only from 4 p.m. to 9 p.m., 15% of your bill (less alcohol) will be donated to our cause (dine in or take out). Come out to Buffalo Wild Wings on Starkey Road to have a great meal, see some of our wildlife ambassadors, and watch 2 different Monday Night Football games (Chicago @ Minnesota and Atlanta @ Las Vegas)! Just show a physical or digital ticket, like the yellow and black one here, to your server and make a difference for wildlife!	https://www.facebook.com/events/905299775054164/	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/470140853_1640150876572608_9033835586522059858_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=107&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=J7j7r-wQ4NcQ7kNvgFpG6Ut&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AjNXFmaGBGqOBGOMwsRmgg6&oh=00_AYB2n3Uto9CAOKooFC7pUg3EmCINUTOjO_zV_BPKdk3wKg&oe=67601324	PERSON_PROFILE	Southwest Virginia Wildlife Center of Roanoke	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,643,490	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2643484}'	No	2024-12-11 21:29	active	1993			VIEW_INSTAGRAM_PROFILE	http://instagram.com/noelashman	Noel Ashman	https://www.facebook.com/noelashmanfanpage/	4,896	1969-12-31 18:00	Visit Instagram Profile	instagram.com	CAROUSEL		http://instagram.com/noelashman	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/469908454_611005611593259_2361367673706775218_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=104&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=5cqIiBCjuVUQ7kNvgHPunVp&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=AxUn1rmj8Rs7R8n7mIcY_MG&oh=00_AYDco9_Hpc4SNYVg55SgSQ9Ex-PLrV54WBMyk2Pzn0HCMQ&oe=67602E58	PERSON_PROFILE	Noel Ashman	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete
2,642,251	/src/Template/Ads/index.ctp (line 281) '{"alias":2642242}'	No	2024-12-11 21:15	active	1993	🔥🔥Click to read the next chapter for free👉	Chapter 0001 "Where's the patient's husband? Why hasn't he come yet? If he doesn't sign soon, it'll be too late,” a doctor urged. "The patient's husband refuses to come. He said to let her fend for herself,” a nurse replied. "Fend for herself..." When Suzy Frost, battered and barely clinging to life on the operating table, heard those words, something inside her stirred. Summoning the last of her strength, she slowly raised her hand. "Give me my phone..." Seeing her condition, the nurse quickly handed her the phone. Enduring excruciating pain, Suzy redialed the number that was almost etched into her brain. Just as the call was about to disconnect automatically, it finally went through. "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" the man on the other end spoke, his voice full of displeasure and impatience. "Dylan..." With every word Suzy spoke, a searing pain shot through her body, "After you took Anne away, the kidnappers detonated the bomb, and I was hurt, badly..." "Heh..." Before she could finish, the man on the other end let out a cold, dismissive chuckle. "Suzy, your acting is really improving. That weak little voice almost sounds convincing." "...I'm not lying to you, I really am hurt." "Is that so?" His tone grew even more scornful. "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan..." "Beep beep beep..." Undeterred, Suzy tried calling again. "Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable.” The doctor, no longer able to stand by in silence, spoke gently, "Miss Frost, your condition is very serious. If you have any other family members present, they're also authorized to sign on your behalf.” What other family did she have? In this world, he was the only one who could sign the consent form. No matter how much it hurt, Suzy fought back the tears that streamed down her pale cheeks and asked the doctor with a faint smile, "Can I sign for myself?" "...Yes!" With her last ounce of strength, Suzy signed the consent form for the surgery. The operation lasted four hours and was finally over, but her condition worsened two hours post-surgery, and Suzy was moved to the ICU. For 24 hours, Suzy lay in a coma, unable to open her eyes, but her mind was alert, and she could hear the nurses discussing as they changed her bandages. "Even if the marriage is struggling, a husband can't just ignore his seriously injured wife! You wouldn't believe it—I called him several more times, but it just kept going to voicemail. Doesn't he care even a little?" lamented the nurse. "Here's some juicy gossip for you—the CEO of Wright Corporation, Dylan Wright, who's rumored to be disinterested in women and hasn't married even at thirty, actually has a girlfriend, and she's hospitalized right here in our hospital. He’s taking care of her around the clock in the VVIP ward on the top floor." "It’s strange how different men can be—one boyfriend is incredibly devoted, and another is worse than an animal!" Little did she know, Dylan was so close, merely an inquiry away from knowing that Suzy hadn't lied to him. Yet, he refused to waste a moment on her, simply because... she wasn't worth it! Her eyes, tightly shut, suddenly flew open, startling the nurse who was wiping her face. "You're awake!" Once awake, Suzy was immediately given a thorough check-up and, finding no serious injuries, was moved to a regular room. That night, deep in the silence, despite still being confined to her bed, Suzy removed her oxygen mask and dragged her injured left leg, wounded in the explosion, to the top floor. Outside the hospital room, through the glass, Suzy watched as Dylan tenderly fed Anne Wheeler fruits by her bedside. Her fists tightened, but the anguish in her chest, like a swarm of needles pricking at her heart, didn’t ease in the slightest. Three days ago, Suzy and Anne had been kidnapped together. Knowing how important Anne was to him, and despite their rivalry, Suzy had fiercely protected her. For two days and nights, Suzy was tortured by the kidnappers, bearing injuries all over her body, while Anne only suffered minor superficial wounds. Finally, Dylan came... "I choose to save Anne. As for Suzy, do as you please..." He was not only unconcerned about Suzy but even suspected that the kidnapping was a drama she had orchestrated herself. He had never trusted her! The intimate scene in the hospital room turned Suzy's eyes, once filled with love, utterly cold. "It's time to end this!" The moment Suzy turned to leave, Dylan felt something stir and whirled around, just as Anne let out a pained cry. Dylan quickly asked, "What's wrong?" Anne glanced at the door and then gave Dylan a weak smile. "I accidentally pulled at my wound." "Do you need a doctor?" "I'm not that frail," Anne replied teasingly. "But Mr. Dylan, you should head back. You've been with me day and night; Suzy must be upset again..." She paused, "Mr. Dylan, honestly, Suzy isn't wrong. No matter what our relationship was in the past, you are now her husband. No woman could tolerate her husband being so kind to another woman, so whatever she does is understandable. Don't be angry with her, otherwise, Madam Grace might hear of it..." Dylan cut her off, "It's getting late, you should sleep." "Mr. Dylan..." "Listen to me!" "Alright then." As Anne closed her eyes, Dylan glanced once more towards the door. Was it really... He remembered the weak voice on the phone that day. His lips tightened, and he stood up. Just as he moved, Anne grabbed his hand. "Mr. Dylan, my wound still hurts a bit. Could you blow on it for me?" A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes before Dylan finally replied in a deep voice, "Alright." … Suzy didn't return to her room but left the hospital directly. A taxi took her back to the villa where she had lived with Dylan for three years. As she walked inside from the front gate, memories of the past three years with Dylan flooded back like a tidal wave. It had been a blend of sour, bitter, and spicy moments in their life together, but sweetness was conspicuously absent. Dylan had always believed that Suzy married him as part of a calculated scheme. In truth, he wasn't entirely wrong; Suzy had indeed manipulated events to marry him, but her motives were never what he assumed—she wasn't after his wealth or status; she was after the man himself. She had hoped that time would prove her true intentions, but three years had only intensified his disdain for her. She could never forget his cruel words, "Then I wish you a speedy journey to death!" "Dylan, you might not realize it, but I've actually been living in desperation all along. These past three years, I tried to climb out, to be normal, to be by your side, but you clearly didn't care. Since that's the case, I'll grant your wish." Taking what she needed and discarding what she didn't, Suzy left behind only the signed divorce papers and the keys to the villa. She walked away without a trace of longing, leaving nothing behind. Chapter 0002 The next morning, after spending yet another night at the hospital because Anne's pain had kept her from letting him leave, Dylan was finally on his way to the office. As they approached an intersection, he suddenly instructed the driver, "Take me to Bayview Heights." He had been wearing the same clothes for two days and needed a change. Otherwise, he wasn’t too keen on returning to that place. Upon arriving at the villa, instead of the warm welcome he might have expected, he was met with an eerie silence and a chilling sight on the living room table—a divorce agreement! Dylan’s gaze lingered on the signed divorce papers and the keys resting on top. With an unreadable expression, he paused for a moment before turning and heading upstairs. This was his first time entering Suzy's room. They usually lived separate lives, like oil and water, never mixing. The room was as clean and orderly as he expected. Over the past three years, she had personally taken care of his every need. It was hard to deny that in some ways, she had been a competent wife... Realizing his thoughts, Dylan’s brows furrowed, and he stepped forward to open her wardrobe. Clothes and jewelry, everything related to the Wright family were still there. Just as she had written in the divorce papers, she had left without taking anything, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back. So, her cries of impending death that day, were they all just an act? He sneered. “Suzy, I’m curious to see what game you’re playing this time.” His phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket and seeing the caller ID, a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes—a feeling he might not have even noticed himself. “What is it?” On the other end, his assistant sounded particularly anxious, “Sir, Miss Wheeler has had an accident!” His brow tightened immediately. “I’m on my way!” At the hospital, although bodyguards were posted at the entrance and surveillance revealed no suspicious individuals, Anne had somehow been poisoned and was in critical condition. Anne's primary doctor speculated, “Mr. Wright, it’s highly likely that Miss Wheeler was poisoned before she even arrived at the hospital…” Anne cut off the doctor before he could finish, "Mr. Dylan, please don't blame Suzy. She was just trying to protect her marriage! If I had listened to her and left you as she suggested, none of this would have happened. So, this is all my own fault..." "At a time like this, you should be worried about yourself, not that ruthless woman," Dylan replied sharply. His eyes hardened as he pulled out his phone to call Suzy. "I'm sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable..." The fury in his eyes could have swallowed someone whole. He coldly ordered his assistant, who was standing by, "Search the entire city for Suzy!" Meanwhile, at Hillside Villa. "Ah-choo..." As soon as Suzy entered, she sneezed, causing Allen Wheeler, who followed her in, to become instantly anxious. "Boss, did you catch a cold?" Sniffling slightly, Suzy sneezed again. "It's nothing." "You've sneezed twice; you definitely have a cold!" Allen set down Suzy's luggage and hurried to the kitchen. "I need to make you some ginger tea right away." Watching Allen’s worried and hurried back, Suzy thought of Dylan’s cold words, "I already told you that her life or death is none of my business!" People who cared about her would worry over something as small as a sneeze. Those who didn’t wouldn’t have flinched even if they saw her hanging—they’d think she was just swinging. Three years ago, she had done everything to marry Dylan, to repay a perceived debt, she had toned down her personality, and humbled herself to the dust, working tirelessly. Thinking back, she realized she must have been out of her mind. Even if he had saved her three years ago, it was her first time, and he really wasn’t at a loss. The notion that she owed him anything was utterly absurd. Pushing down the pain in her heart, Suzy stopped Allen at the kitchen door. "Forget the ginger tea. However, the Goodwin family in North Avenue could use your help as a facilitator." "The Goodwin family?" Suzy’s eyes narrowed slightly. "The murderer who murdered my parents, and my own attacker three years ago, might both be connected to the Goodwin family." Upon hearing this, Allen’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. "The Goodwins are influential in politics, and it seems the player behind the scenes is bigger than we imagined. Martin Goodwin, the head of the Goodwin family, has been ill lately, searching for a renowned doctor. I’ll pass on the news that you are the miracle doctor to them soon." Ten minutes later, Allen told Suzy, "Boss, the Goodwin family needs you urgently; they want you to come as soon as possible, but your injuries..." In fact, the moment Allen saw Suzy, he wanted to ask about her injuries and where she had been these past three years. Since she was alive, why hadn’t she contacted them? But she never mentioned it, and knowing her temperament, he didn’t dare pry. Suzy knew Allen was worried about her, but she didn’t want to bring up anything related to Dylan with anyone. It was all over, and she would never contact him in the future; there was simply no need to let them know. Yet, saying nothing would certainly not ease his concerns. After a moment, she explained to Allen, "I took care of a dog for three years, but it never grew tame; it bit me instead." Allen’s anger flared immediately. "Where is that beast? I'll knock his teeth out." No one could harm his boss and get away with it! "He’s dead!" Dead in her heart. "Tell the Goodwin family that I’ll be there two days from now, four in the afternoon!" Two days passed in a blink. At Wright Corporation, in the CEO's office. Dylan looked up as his assistant, Desmond Hill, entered. "Didn’t find her?" “There isn’t a doctor who knows how to treat the poisoning,” Desmond said hesitantly, then added, “As for Mrs. Wright, she’s an orphan with no family. Everything she’s done over the past three years has been connected to you, and nothing suspicious has come up… so we haven’t been able to locate her either.” "It had been two days..." Was she intentionally hiding, or could she have... Realizing he was actually worried about her, Dylan's brows knitted together. "Intensify the search!" "Yes!" Standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, Dylan gazed into the distance, his eyes flickering with a complexity even he hadn’t noticed. "Suzy, you better pray you can hide forever.” "Sir..." Desmond, who had left just a minute earlier, hurried back in without even knocking, breathless with urgency. "Look at this!" Dylan, thinking there might be news of Suzy, took the phone and saw... "Red Falcon?" "A miracle doctor in the alternative medicine world!" Desmond exclaimed, excitedly. "She’s renowned for curing all kinds of poisons and diseases. People call her 'The Healer of Legends,' known for treating even the most severe injuries. She disappeared three years ago, and everyone thought she was gone for good, but now she’s reappeared. “I've just received reliable information that today at four in the afternoon, she'll be visiting the Goodwin family in North Avenue to treat Mr. Martin. Sir, perhaps Miss Wheeler could try her treatment?" "The Goodwin family at North Avenue.." The fact that the Goodwins had called upon her was proof enough of her skill. "Go invite her!" After a pause, Dylan stopped Desmond at the door. "I'll go myself." Chapter 0003 North Avenue was an hour and a half drive from South Avenue. Suzy arrived at the Goodwin family’s estate as promised in disguise. Using the pretense of treating an illness, she took the opportunity to hypnotize Martin. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to extract any useful information. As she left, deep in thought, a sudden pain shot through her forehead as she bumped into someone... “Sorry…” The apology got stuck in her throat the moment she recognized the face. Dylan? What was he doing here? It was truly a case of enemies crossing paths in the most unexpected of places! In less than two seconds, Suzy tore her gaze away and walked off, her expression completely indifferent. Dylan stood there, confused. She was about to apologize to him, so why did her attitude change the moment she saw him? Especially how she suddenly looked at him—it was as if they were mortal enemies. Dylan turned, watching the direction she went, his eyes narrowing. That figure looked just like Suzy… “Mr. Wright, we’re so honored by your presence. I’m sorry for not greeting you properly…” The voice of the Goodwin family’s butler snapped Dylan out of his thoughts. By the time he glanced back, the woman had disappeared. Following the butler to see Martin, Dylan found the old man looking healthy, his complexion rosy, as if fully recovered from his illness. Dylan wasted no time and stated his reason for coming. But the reply was unexpected: the miracle doctor had just left, barely moments ago. Dylan was speechless. The woman he had run into earlier, the one with freckles all over her face—was she the miracle doctor? Knowing it was already too late to chase after her, Dylan quickly bid farewell to Martin. To his surprise, the woman hadn’t left yet. Seeing her car just start to pull away, Dylan hurried over, “Wait a sec—" But his words were drowned out by the roar of the engine. Now he was almost certain—this woman had something against him. He quickly got into his car and chased after her. As soon as Suzy saw the black luxurious car speeding after her in the rearview mirror, her brow furrowed. Did he recognize her? She wasn’t bragging, but her disguise was so flawless that not even her parents, if they were alive, would be able to recognize her. And Dylan? After three years of marriage, he had barely ever looked at her properly. So why was he chasing her so relentlessly? Just because she hadn’t apologized earlier? With a cold smirk tugging at her lips, Suzy floored the gas pedal. "You owe me a lot more than I owe you!" The red car shot forward like a bolt of lightning. "Interesting." Dylan’s eyes narrowed as he accelerated. The red car and the black one sped through the winding mountain roads, like two fierce predators locked in a relentless chase. At first, Dylan was confident in his driving skills—he was a man, after all. How could he not catch up to a woman? But in the final stretch, the woman suddenly did a sharp U-turn and drove straight toward him. He quickly jerked the steering wheel to the right, barely avoiding a collision. However, the speed was too fast, and his car skidded into the mountainside. Though he wasn’t hurt, his car stalled out. Through the windshield, his eyes met hers. She flashed him a playful smile, then gave him a thumbs-down, taunting him with a level of arrogance that sent his blood boiling. Moments later, she reversed her car with impressive speed, leaving him in the dust. "Red Falcon…" She wasn’t just a miracle doctor; she was also an ace racer. Although she wasn’t good-looking, her talents were undeniable. But why did she harbor such animosity toward him? Back at the office, the first thing Dylan did was instruct Desmond, "Dig into everything you can find on Red Falcon—leave no detail out." He had to find out what he’d done to make her so mad at him. Half an hour later, Desmond returned with a defeated expression. "Sir, all the information on Red Falcon is locked behind a heavily encrypted firewall. We’ve switched through several tech experts, but none of them have been able to break in." "...Send me the link." … "Boss, someone’s digging into your files!" Allen handed his laptop to Suzy, who was lounging on the couch watching a show. "It started about half an hour ago. They’ve cycled through a few people, and the latest one is pretty skilled. I’m having a hard time keeping them at bay." "Is that so?" Suzy's eyes narrowed, and she sat up. "Let me handle this." Her fingers flew across the keyboard, lines of code flashing rapidly on the screen. Within minutes, she closed the laptop and tossed it back onto the couch, stretching lazily. "Let’s go grab something to eat." Meanwhile, back at his desk, Dylan stared at the screen in disbelief as the code on his computer spelled out one word— LOSER! He nearly smashed the computer in frustration. Watching the taunting word flash on the screen and feeling the stormy tension building around Dylan, Desmond didn’t dare breathe too loudly. Their boss’ hacking skills were top-tier, not just in South Avenue but globally, so how could this happen? Noticing Dylan’s darkening expression, Desmond hesitated for a moment before offering a timid suggestion. "Sir, they probably don’t know it’s you, so I’m sure they didn’t mean it personally..." "Get out!" "Yes, sir!" "Wait." Dylan stopped Desmond as he was about to leave. "Use the contact information the Goodwins provided. Offer her ten million for the treatment." The main goal was to get her to cure Anne’s poisoning—everything else was secondary. A shadow flickered in Dylan’s eyes as he quickly formulated his next move. … Just as the food was being placed on the table, Allen’s phone rang. It was from an unfamiliar number. He glanced across the table at Suzy, who nodded, signaling him to answer. He pressed the speakerphone button as he picked up. "Is this the miracle doctor, Red Falcon?" It was Desmond! Suzy’s hand froze mid-motion as she was about to pick up her fork. Was Dylan really that determined to get an apology from her? Naturally, Dylan, who had never tasted defeat, couldn’t swallow his pride after being repeatedly taunted by her. Not wanting to get further entangled with him, Suzy motioned for Allen to hang up. "I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong person." Just as Allen was about to end the call, Desmond quickly interjected, "Wait, please! I have a patient who desperately needs the miracle doctor’s help. We’re willing to offer ten million as payment for the treatment!" Suzy paused, her expression unreadable. So that was the real reason behind Dylan’s relentless pursuit? Their encounter at the Goodwin family estate hadn’t been a coincidence after all? For Dylan to personally reach out and offer such a high fee... Concerned that it might involve Grace Lawson, Dylan’s grandmother, who had always been kind to her, Suzy used lip movements to instruct Allen to ask for more details. Allen asked, "Can you provide some basic information about the patient? You can send it to my phone." Hearing some progress, Desmond eagerly replied, "Of course, I’ll send it right away." As soon as the call ended, Desmond sent over all the relevant details. The moment Suzy saw that the patient was Anne, she casually tossed the phone back to Allen. "Tell them I don’t treat for money. I believe in destiny, and this patient is not fated to meet me.” Allen blinked in confusion and thought, "Since when do you have such rules?" Though Allen sensed something off about Suzy’s expression, he didn’t ask any questions. Instead, he simply relayed her message to Desmond. Upon receiving the response, Desmond immediately reported Suzy’s message to Dylan. Dylan’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Add another ten million!" He couldn't believe she'd turn down that much money. Suzy sneered. "Twenty million?" A twisted urge suddenly gripped her—she wanted to test just how much Dylan truly valued Anne. Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Tell them I’ll make a house call for two hundred million. Not a penny less." Chapter 0004 "Two hundred million?" Dylan barely hesitated. "Deal!" Three years ago, after being drugged during an ambush, a girl saved his life despite being seriously injured herself. After a night together, the girl disappeared by morning. It had been too dark that night to see her face clearly, but he vaguely remembered a faint, distinctive scent on her, like some kind of herbal remedy. After investigating, he traced it back to the Wheeler family. Anne had been frail and sickly since childhood and had relied on natural remedies for years. According to her, on the day he was attacked, she was kidnapped and managed to escape. Along the way, she encountered him. Ignoring her own safety, she dragged her wounded body and gave herself to him to save his life. At the time, she was only eighteen. Anne saved his life, and he promised her marriage. Even though his grandmother, Grace, disapproved, he vowed never to marry anyone else. Yet out of nowhere, Suzy showed up. She orchestrated a heroic act, earning Grace’s favor, and step by step, manipulated Grace into forcing him to marry her. With her goal achieved, Suzy saw Anne as a thorn in her side, constantly picking fights. Lately, things had escalated — first, a kidnapping, and now poisoning... Two hundred million, or even more — as long as someone was willing to help save Anne, he’d pay any price. He owed Anne too much. … Meanwhile, Allen immediately informed Suzy after receiving a response. "Boss, they've agreed." He agreed… It was impossible not to feel something. After all, she had loved Dylan for so many years. She couldn’t help but wonder, if it were her who was poisoned, would he do the same? No, he wouldn’t! He’d wish for her death as soon as possible. That way, no one would stand in the way of him and Anne ever again. Suzy clenched her fists, suppressing the aching pain in her heart. "Deal!" It was two hundred million — since he was foolish and rich, why shouldn’t she take advantage of it? But... Who exactly poisoned Anne? What was the motive? And as for the previous kidnapping, after investigating all this while, there was still no answer. There must be a connection somewhere. It seemed a visit to the hospital tonight was necessary, to first determine the exact poison in Anne's system before following the clues. That night, when all was quiet, Suzy, dressed in a nurse uniform prepared by Allen, sneaked into Anne’s hospital room. The girl on the bed had a ghostly pale face and weak breathing. Dylan would probably be heartbroken seeing her like this. It was said that Anne had once saved Dylan, which was why he held her dear. In fact, they were quite similar; Suzy also fell in love with Dylan on the night he saved her. A self-mocking smile curled her lips. Suzy had schemed to marry him, thinking he was single. After all, rumors had it that he was indifferent to women and devoted only to his work, to the extent that his grandmother who raised him suspected he was gay! It was only after marriage that Suzy found out he had a girl he liked; it was just that Grace did not approve of Anne, so she never mentioned Anne in front of Suzy. Three years ago, while Suzy thought she was using Grace, wasn’t Grace actually using her too? Remembering that shrewd old lady, Suzy chuckled softly. "Age certainly does sharpen the wit!" Not wanting to waste more time, Suzy reached out to check Anne’s condition. Her brows furrowed instantly; her condition appeared to be… Indeed it was! Her expression suddenly changed. Suzy pulled out a syringe from her pocket, aimed the needle at a vein in Anne's left arm, and was about to insert it when her hand was suddenly grabbed. Using all her strength, Anne clutched the intruder's wrist. "Who sent you?" The medical staff in and out of this hospital room were carefully selected, and Anne knew each one well. The moment she saw the person in front of her, she knew something was off. Unimpressed by Anne’s awakening, Suzy shook off her hand and continued her previous action. As the sharp needle tip was about to pierce into her arm, Anne suddenly pushed Suzy and quickly sat up from the bed, reaching for the call button by the bedside. However, before she could touch it, her arm was pinned against the wall. Though most of the intruder's face was hidden by a mask, the chilling glare from her eyes was like a sword laced with murderous intent. Anne became even more panicked. “I am Dylan’s most beloved woman. If you dare hurt me, he will never forgive you…” “Slap!” After slapping Anne, Suzy grabbed her chin. "If you don’t want to die, keep quiet!" Her face stung from the slap, and her jaw felt like it was about to be crushed. However, from the intruder's words, it seemed she wasn’t here to murder her. Anne’s fear slightly subsided, and she stopped struggling. Seeing her finally quiet down, Suzy released her chin. After drawing the blood with the needle and finishing her task, Suzy removed the needle and left, not caring about the still bleeding puncture site. Having suffered such a grievance, Anne was not about to let it go. She quickly pressed the call button, “Someone is trying to murder…” Before she could finish, her throat was grabbed. The woman's speed was alarmingly fast, shocking Anne. “I didn’t want to murder you…” Suzy’s fingers tightened inch by inch around her neck. “But since you seem tired of living, I’ll grant your wish!” This wasn’t just a threat; Suzy genuinely intended to murder Anne. Indeed, Anne was no saint; she was quite skilled in manipulating situations. Over the past three years, she had framed others multiple times. Suzy had been patient only because Anne was Dylan’s favorite. Now... She didn’t care about who he loved. Furthermore, Anne owed Suzy that much. If it hadn’t been for her protection, Anne wouldn’t have survived long enough for Dylan to rescue her from the kidnappers. Seeing Anne's face turn red with difficulty breathing and veins popping on her forehead, the murderous intent in Suzy's eyes deepened. Just a bit more pressure and Anne’s life would be over! Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. They were distant, inaudible to most, but Suzy, with her exceptional hearing, could hear them clearly. It was Dylan! She felt a bit disgusted by how familiar she was with his steps. As the footsteps grew closer, Suzy’s gaze hardened, and with a swift motion, she knocked Anne unconscious with a sharp blow to the neck. After all, Anne was worth two hundred million—there was no reason to turn down that kind of money. Shifting her gaze slightly, Suzy quickly opened the door to the balcony and then slipped into the bathroom. The next second, the door was pushed open. Dylan entered, his eyes falling on the open sliding door to the balcony. His brows furrowed as he instructed Desmond, who followed behind him. "Close the door..." His words were cut off by a startled cry. "Ah..." Anne, who had thought she was doomed, suddenly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling, gasping for air in terror. "Did I wake you? I've been too busy these last few days to visit. How are you feeling?" Dylan walked to the bedside, noticing her distressed expression. "Did you have a nightmare?" Turning and seeing Dylan, Anne immediately threw herself into his arms, showing him the marks on her neck and the needle mark on her arm, "Mr. Dylan, just now, a woman disguised as a nurse drew my blood and then tried to strangle me." Chapter 0005 Dylan’s eyes shifted back to the balcony, giving Desmond a subtle look. Desmond searched the area and reported, “Sir, there’s no one here.” “Call the doctor.” Dylan’s gaze turned cold. "And tell the hospital to lock down all exits. Not a soul steps foot inside or out without my explicit authorization." “Yes, sir!” After the doctor’s examination confirmed that only blood had been drawn and nothing else had been done to her, Anne finally let out a sigh of relief. The attacker’s identity was still a mystery, and with her current vulnerable condition, it was hard not to feel afraid. But what puzzled her was why someone would go through so much effort just to draw her blood. However... With a shift in her gaze, Anne’s eyes welled up with tears. "Mr. Dylan, there’s something I’ve hesitated to say, but she’s really gone too far this time." It was a perfect opportunity to throw dirt on Suzy’s name, and Anne couldn’t let it slip by. Gripping his hand, her tears flowed even harder. "I’m already half-dead from the poison—why won’t she leave me alone? Does she think I’m not dying fast enough, so she sends someone in the middle of the night to drain my blood?" Dylan's expression darkened, but he didn’t respond directly. He simply said, "We’ve already found someone who can cure you with an antidote.” Anne’s eyes flashed briefly with surprise, though she quickly masked it. "But... I was told that this poison has no cure.” “There’s always someone better who can treat you. We’ve arranged everything with a miracle doctor named Red Falcon, who will help detoxify you. You’ll be cured soon.” “Red Falcon?” Anne questioned, trying to hide her unease. “Is she really that skilled?” “Yes, Mr. Martin from the North Avenue had a terminal illness, and thanks to her treatment, he made a full recovery.” Dylan’s voice softened. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” For Anne, it was always “I’ll handle everything…” For Suzy, it was always “This doesn’t concern me…” Listening from her hiding spot in the bathroom, Suzy had convinced herself she'd be numb to Dylan's tenderness toward Anne. Yet, as his gentle tone drifted through the door, she felt an unexpected pang. Despite everything, it still stung. Tired of eavesdropping, Suzy silently opened the window and leaped out. Like a bat in the night, she vanished without a trace—so swiftly, no one would ever know. At the hospital entrance. Growing anxious from waiting, Allen was just about to go in and help when he finally spotted Suzy emerging. He hurried out of the car and rushed over, giving her a quick once-over. “Boss, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Suzy kept walking without stopping. “Stop worrying about nothing.” However, Allen sensed something was off. Logically, with the kind of influence Suzy had, Allen knew he shouldn’t be worried. But the ambush three years ago had left him deeply scarred. He could never forget the moment he saw her fall off that cliff with his own eyes. For three years, Allen had hated himself for not protecting Suzy, failing in his duty as her subordinate. So, when Suzy called to inform him she was still alive, Allen swore that, this time, he would give up his life if necessary to keep her from getting hurt again. He wanted to handle this mission for her, but she wouldn’t allow it. From the rearview mirror, Allen glanced at Suzy, who had been silent since getting into the car. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something complicated between her and Anne. Allen realized he needed to find someone to discreetly investigate the matter. His gaze hadn’t fully returned to the road when Suzy caught him staring. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Boss, did you find out what kind of poison it was?” Suzy paused briefly. “It’s Scarlet Veil.” “Screech…” The brakes squealed as Allen slammed on them in shock. “Scarlet Veil? But that was your masterpiece! Didn’t you destroy it along with the formula three years ago?” “There’s one last dose… with the Harlow family.” “Claude Harlow?” Allen’s eyes widened. “What kind of grudge could he possibly have against a young girl to go this far? Everyone knows that poison starts off mild, but once it hits again… she’ll be no better than a dog in heat…” Suzy had created the sinister poison to deal with a monster in the past. Even she was confused. The Harlows and Wrights had no bad blood between them. In fact, the Harlows even had business dealings with the Wheeler family. If Claude was behind the poisoning, she’d rule him out as a suspect in the earlier kidnapping. That much was certain. There was no way Claude would have, or could have, let Suzy come so close to dying in that explosion. No matter who it was, she was determined to find them. It wasn’t about proving her innocence to Dylan. She simply wouldn’t swallow that humiliation! Whether it was the kidnapping, the ambush from three years ago, or the one responsible for murdering her family—she wasn’t going to let any of them off the hook. Her eyes burned with hatred when Allen suddenly handed her the phone. "Boss, Dylan sent a message. He wants to arrange the treatment as soon as possible." Thinking of that deceitful man and his tenderness, she said, "Tell him the deal’s off." Earning two hundred million was tempting, but what intrigued her more was seeing what would happen to Anne after the second wave of poisoning hit her. … In the corridor outside Anne's hospital room. Though Dylan’s face remained expressionless, his eyes were as cold as ice. "What did you just say? Repeat it." Desmond, bracing himself, repeated, "Red Falcon said the deal is off." He regretted it now. He never should have mentioned Red Falcon to Dylan that day. This Red Falcon—first she demanded an outrageous sum, and now she was backing out. Didn’t she know just how bad Dylan’s temper was? Suppressing his rage, Dylan growled. "Give me the phone." Desmond quickly handed it over. Dylan dialed the number. It rang but went unanswered. Once, twice, and again, until his patience wore thin. Finally, a soft voice came through, "Sorry, I was busy." Desmond quickly wiped the sweat that had started to drip down his forehead. Thank goodness the call got answered—otherwise, his phone would’ve met a tragic end. The phone itself wasn’t worth much, but the data stored inside was priceless to him. “I’m looking for Red Falcon,” Dylan said bluntly. “She’s not available. If there’s something you need, you can tell me, and I’ll pass it along.” Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “The price was already agreed upon. Why cancel now?” “Please, Mr. Wright, stay calm. It’s true that canceling the arrangement on our side is a bit abrupt, and we apologize. But we have our reasons. Do you think we’d walk away from two hundred million so easily if we didn’t have a reason to?” “What’s the reason?” “That’s not something we can share with you, Mr. Wright. I suggest you find someone else quickly before Miss Anne misses the best window for treatment.” Without waiting for a response, Allen hung up the phone. The next second… Smash! Desmond watched in despair as yet another phone met its fate. His heart shattered even more than the phone. “Find her!” Dylan ordered, his voice cold. He was determined to see what kind of game she was playing now. Desmond wanted to say, “Easier said than done.” Not just Red Falcon, but also Suzy, who had been missing without a trace for so long. Why did it seem like every woman around him enjoyed playing hide and seek? Inside the hospital room, Anne had been listening to the commotion outside. Once she heard Dylan and Desmond leave, she quickly locked the door and pulled out another phone hidden under her pillow. “Dylan found someone to help me get an antidote, but I overheard that they backed out.” Anne sneered. “He keeps saying how great this Red Falcon is, but it seems she’s all talk. She must’ve realized she couldn’t actually cure me, so she ran at the last minute.” “If she created the poison, she definitely knows how to cure it.” “So, you know her? If she made the poison, why would she suddenly refuse to help? I overheard Dylan offering two hundred million for her treatment!” Since Dylan was willing to spend that much money on her, Anne could tell just how important she was to Dylan. The truth didn’t matter. Once she solidified her place as Dylan’s wife, even if he discovered she wasn't his true savior, his feelings for her would shield her from consequences. There was a long pause on the other end of the line before the person finally responded, “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? You’ll soon face the second wave of the poison. I hope all your wishes come true.” “Thanks for the good wishes. Once I’ve secured Dylan, there’ll be plenty of rewards for you.” … The quickest way to find out if Claude was behind the poisoning was to ask him directly. Even though it seemed unlikely, Suzy decided she needed to meet with him. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in three years. So, the first thing she did upon returning to Hillside Villa was to ask Allen to look into Claude’s whereabouts. Before she could finish eating an apple, Allen had the information ready. “Claude’s on a business trip to Montara.” “Book a flight.” The next morning, Suzy boarded a plane bound for Montara. Allen wanted to accompany Suzy, but she refused, assigning him other tasks to handle. It had been three years since she’d been on a plane, and as she gazed at the clouds outside the window, Suzy felt a sense of freedom, like a bird returning to the sky. For those three years, her life had revolved entirely around Dylan. In her attempt to be the perfect wife, she barely left the house and spent her days thinking about how to take better care of him. Every morning at five, she got up to make him breakfast. She hand-washed all his clothes, even his socks and underwear. While he was at work, she counted the minutes, waiting like a lovesick fool for his return. Looking back now, she couldn’t believe she had lived like that for three years. What on earth had she been thinking? After landing, she went straight to Claude’s hotel, only to be told, “Mr. Claude checked out early this morning.” Suzy was speechless. She had planned on surprising him. Oh well, since she was already here, she might as well treat it like a vacation. Suzy spent the day shopping, buying plenty of things before catching her flight back home. She had to admit that being single has its perks! The farther away men were, the better. At the airport, Suzy spotted Allen waiting from a distance. “Over here…” Her smile froze instantly. Dylan? Surrounded by a crowd, Dylan was heading straight in her direction. Suzy quickly turned her back and thought, “Another unlucky day.” It wasn’t that she feared him; she just didn’t want to see him. And she was pretty sure he didn’t want to see her either. To avoid mutual disdain, Suzy slipped into the restroom. Dylan scanned the area, but there was no sign of Suzy. “Are you sure she was on this flight?” Desmond, sweating profusely, stammered, “I’ve double-checked several times. Mrs. Wright was definitely on this flight from Montara.” Desmond could hardly contain his excitement when he first got the news. Suzy’s disappearance, Red Falcon’s cancellation, and the woman who had infiltrated Anne’s hospital room only to escape under full lockdown—those three women had pushed Dylan to the brink of an explosion. Thank goodness there was finally news about Suzy. Otherwise, if Dylan exploded, Desmond would be the first casualty. Wiping sweat from his forehead, Desmond said, "I’ve got people stationed at every exit. We should be able to find her soon." Half an hour later... Dylan’s voice turned icy. “Where is she?” Desmond wished he could cut out his own tongue. Sometimes, it was best not to speak too soon! He couldn’t understand how Suzy, an ordinary person, was so good at slipping away. “Desmond, your performance is really slipping. If this keeps up, I think it might be time to send you to South Allica for some additional training,” Dylan said coldly before walking off. It had been half an hour, and Suzy had probably already made her escape. The fact that she could disappear under these circumstances made it clear that he had seriously underestimated her abilities. Outside the airport, a line of sleek black cars was parked, with the leading one looking particularly impressive. Desmond jogged ahead, opening the door for Dylan, who was just about to step into the car when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something… In an instant, Dylan turned, took several swift strides, and grabbed the shoulder of a woman standing nearby. hapter 0006 When Dylan spun the woman around to face him, his expression darkened instantly, like a shadow passing over his features. From behind, she had looked strikingly similar to Suzy, but her front was a different story. Her appearance was plain, a far cry from Suzy’s striking beauty. The fact that he’d even momentarily considered Suzy attractive only made Dylan's scowl deepen. "Hey, handsome, your approach is pretty unique. I like it," the woman said with a playful smile, leaning toward him. "I live close by. How about we..." "I’ve got the wrong person," Dylan cut her off. As he stepped back, the woman nearly stumbled but wasn’t discouraged. She moved closer again. "Don’t be shy. We’re both adults here. What’s there to hold back?" With a sharp glare, Dylan signaled to Desmond, who quickly stepped in to handle the situation. Once the two of them had driven off, Suzy slipped into Allen’s car, slowly peeling off the human-skin mask from her face. She had thought their encounter was a coincidence, but it turned out Dylan had deliberately come looking for her. But why? After all the commotion, what was he trying to achieve? She had already stepped aside. What more could he possibly want? Allen seemed equally puzzled. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Boss, I just found out... Dylan wasn’t looking for Red Falcon. He’s been trying to find his missing wife…” "Yeah, that’s me," Suzy said calmly. There was no point in hiding it anymore. "...You’re married?" Allen was visibly stunned. "Was. I got married, then divorced." "Was it because of Anne?" Allen’s tone was laced with frustration. The fact that Dylan was willing to spend two hundred million on Anne was a clear sign of their deep connection. Unable to hold back, Allen muttered a curse under his breath. "Like mother, like daughter. She’s just as rotten as her mom." Suzy immediately caught the significance of his words. "You and the Wheeler family..." "I have nothing to do with the Wheelers," Allen said sharply, gripping the steering wheel. It was a painful chapter of Allen’s life, one he had never shared with Suzy. He had always planned to take his revenge quietly, without burdening her with his past. After all, Suzy had her own scores to settle. Anne’s mother, Helena Fox, and his own were cousins. An unexpected tragedy left her an orphan, and his grandmother, moved by sympathy, took Helena in. Little did she know, she was nurturing a wolf in sheep’s clothing. On the surface, Helena seemed sweet and caring, but beneath that facade, she was as cold and calculating. When Allen was eight, he walked in on his father, William Wheeler, having an affair with Helena while his mother was away on a business trip — and in his mother's own bed, no less. Not long after, they drove his mother to her death and tried to burn him alive. He suffered severe burns across most of his body. If it hadn’t been for Suzy saving him while he was trying to escape, he wouldn’t even be alive today. She nursed him back to health, gave him a new face, and turned him into the person he was now — someone William wouldn’t recognize, even if they stood face to face. Suzy could tell at a glance that Allen was lying. Since he didn’t want to delve deeper into the subject, she didn’t push him further. Everyone has their own secrets. She shifted the conversation. "Did you take care of what I asked before I left?" Allen opened the glove compartment and pulled out a blue folder. "The investigation confirms that there’s never been any conflict between the Goodwin family and the Turner family, not now or three years ago. And there's no way the Goodwins could learn about your real identity." Suzy had once been the heiress of the Frosts, the wealthiest family. Years ago, a brutal assassination wiped out her entire family in a single night, from relatives to servants—a total of thirty lives, all murdered. The murderers were beyond cruel. Everyone believed that no one from the Frost family survived, unaware that someone had risked their life to save Suzy. For years, she had kept her identity hidden. Apart from Allen, Raven Murray, and Riley White, no one else knew who she really was. And none of them would ever betray her. Suzy opened the folder, flipping through the pages. She found nothing out of the ordinary; everything seemed in order. Yet, three years ago, she distinctly remembered the kidnappers mentioning the Goodwin family. Closing the folder, she tossed it aside casually. "You can dodge the first blow, but not the second." "Yes, if the Goodwin family is really involved, no matter how powerful they are, they’ll pay the price in full," Allen said before asking, "What about Claude?" Suzy leaned back in her chair, her eyes half-closed. "He returned early. I didn’t get a chance to see him." "So, are we heading to the Harlow family next?" "We’ll see." After all the running around, Suzy was feeling tired. She’d head home for some rest first. Besides, Anne’s second wave of poisoning was set for tonight. Suzy needed to be well-rested to fully enjoy what was about to unfold. … That night, at the hospital. Anne had been unusually thirsty since dinner. She drank plenty of water, yet the discomfort only worsened. She knew it was time—the second wave of the poison was hitting. In a panic, she called Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, where are you? I feel so awful..." she moaned as soon as the line connected, not waiting for a response. But it wasn’t Dylan who answered—it was his sister, Diana Wright. "Feeling awful? Call a doctor. What’s the point of calling my brother?" Diana had always disliked Anne. "And this is my final warning. My brother is married. Whether it’s me or my grandmother, we’ve both accepted his wife as family. You’d better stay far away from him." Anne wasn’t fond of Diana either. "Oh really? You probably don’t know that they’re divorced, do you? And it was Suzy who initiated it." "You're lying!" Diana snapped, not believing a word. "My sister-in-law loves my brother. There’s no way she would ever ask for a divorce." "If you don't believe me, go ask your brother. And by the way, your dear sister-in-law has run off with some random guy and hasn’t been seen since!" "You witch! Say one more bad word about her, and I'll rip your mouth apart..." Diana was in the middle of her furious rant when the phone was snatched away by Dylan. She looked up. "Brother, that witch Anne just said that your wife wants a divorce!" Dylan’s face was cold. "Watch your manners." "My manners? I rather show some manners to a dog than her! Now tell me—is Suzy divorcing you or not?" "That’s none of your business," he said, his dark eyes narrowing. "What you should be focused on is your exam tomorrow." With that, he turned to leave. Diana chased after him. "How can it not concern me? She saved Grandma’s life! If it weren’t for her, we’d both be orphans by now. You can’t be so heartless..." No matter what she said, Dylan kept walking without a word. Frustrated, Diana stomped her foot. "I’m calling Grandma!" Dylan knew Diana would go straight to Grace to complain. He couldn’t figure out what spell Suzy had cast over both his grandmother and his sister. They adored her to the point of obsession. The only reason he hadn’t launched a full search for Suzy was to avoid alarming Grace, who was currently enjoying her vacation overseas. But now it seemed the secret was out. With that thought, he redialed Anne’s number to find out how she knew about the divorce. "Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan..." The moment the call connected, Anne’s pained voice came through. "What’s wrong?" Dylan asked. "I feel terrible, I really feel like I’m dying. Please come and save me!" "Don’t panic. I’m on my way." Chapter 0007 At the hospital. The moment Dylan stepped through the door, Anne threw herself into his arms. She clung to him like a rag doll, trembling against him. "Dylan, I feel awful... I feel so terrible..." “Where does it hurt?” Dylan tried to push her away, but instead of letting go, she only clung tighter. "Everywhere..." Anne moaned, placing his hand on her front. "Especially here, it feels like bugs crawling under my skin—itching, unbearable. Mr. Dylan, please help me!" Her behavior was clearly not normal. “I’ll call the doctor.” “No, I don’t want a doctor. I want you.” Anne clung to him like a vine, her hands restlessly undoing his shirt buttons. “Please, Mr. Dylan, help me, I feel like I’m dying. If you don’t help me, I really will die...” As her fingers worked to undo the buttons, Dylan grabbed her wrists. “Anne, calm down...” “I can’t calm down...” She leaned in, trying to kiss him, whispering his name over and over, “Mr. Dylan, Mr. Dylan...” Just as she was about to succeed, Dylan forcefully pushed her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. His resistance spoke volumes, even if he hadn’t said a word. A flicker of coldness flashed in Anne’s eyes, but when she looked up again, only sadness remained. “Mr. Dylan, do you hate me?” Dylan didn’t respond, nor did he help her up. Instead, he turned away. “I’m calling a doctor.” Anne wasn’t about to let him leave. She scrambled to her feet and wrapped herself around him from behind. “I told you, I don’t want a doctor. I want you! Please, Mr. Dylan, take me...” “Anne, something is clearly wrong with you,” Dylan said, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You need to see a doctor.” “No doctor can help me. Only you can save me.” As she spoke, Anne began stripping off her own clothes. “Please, save me. I’m begging you.” Just when Anne thought she had succeeded, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, and everything went black as she crumpled to the floor. Watching Anne fall unconscious, Suzy, who had been hiding in the wardrobe, retracted the silver needle that she had prepared to throw. It wasn’t about helping Dylan—it was simply that she couldn’t bear to watch the scene unfold. It was the kind of thing that could make her eyes bleed. What she didn’t expect was that Dylan would actually... Anne was supposed to be the woman he loved most. Suzy couldn’t quite understand why he knocked her out. Dylan scooped Anne up in his arms and laid her back on the hospital bed before pressing the call button for the doctor. When the doctor arrived, Dylan briefly explained what had just happened. “Is this related to the poison in her system?” After a quick examination, the doctor nodded. “Yes, you’re right. The poison in Miss Anne’s body is highly unusual. The last time the poison flared up, nothing like this happened. Now, it’s suddenly escalated, and who knows what could happen next. We need to detox her as soon as possible.” Dylan frowned and thought about what the doctor said. There had been no word from Red Falcon. Forget about tracking her down—she hadn’t even answered a single phone call. Desmond had been trying for days, but every attempt had gone unanswered. Detoxing Anne was proving to be no simple task. For the first time, he found himself played by a woman who had him in the palm of her hand. With his jaw tight, Dylan commanded, “For now, find a way to alleviate her symptoms.” “That’s going to be difficult...” the doctor began. “This poison is something I’ve never encountered before, and I know nothing about it. I’m concerned that if we administer the wrong medication, it could worsen her condition instead of easing it. So...” The doctor pressed his lips together before continuing, “At this point, the safest way to relieve her symptoms might be for you, Mr. Wright, to help Miss Anne personally.” “Absolutely not!” Dylan didn’t hesitate. “If it comes to that, we’ll use sedatives.” “But that might not be safe either…” “At least that way, she’ll maintain her dignity,” Dylan muttered, his voice low as he looked at Anne lying unconscious. “I can’t let her lose her honor.” So, it wasn’t that he wouldn’t touch her—he just didn’t want her to be ridiculed. Suzy’s mind flashed back to a day when she had gone to his office to deliver some documents he had left behind at home. His employees had mistaken her for the maid, and from start to finish, he hadn’t said a single word to correct them. They had been married for three years, and not once had he shown her the respect a wife deserved. Yet, when it came to Anne, he shielded her at every turn... Suzy didn’t want to compare, but moments like this always brought it to the surface, no matter how hard she tried. Why was she even watching this pathetic drama? She really should find a way to slip out of here. And as luck would have it, the opportunity presented itself. The doctor left, and moments later, Dylan’s phone rang. Probably to avoid waking Anne, he stepped out of the room with his phone. Seizing her chance, Suzy quietly slipped out of the wardrobe. But just as she thought she’d made her escape, Dylan walked back in. Their eyes locked. The air between them went dead silent. Suzy reacted quickly, darting toward the balcony. Dylan was just as fast, his long strides closing the distance. Just as she was about to leap off the balcony, his hand caught her shoulder, yanking her back. "Speak. Who sent you?" Suzy let out a cold laugh. "The hospital is a public place. I’m allowed to come and go as I please. Do I need your permission now?" She wasn’t worried at all about Dylan recognizing her voice. Before going out, she always used a voice-altering agent—not to hide from him specifically, but out of long-standing habit. Keeping her true identity hidden was a necessity. Though she hadn’t gone so far as to disguise herself today, just a simple mask, there was no way Dylan would figure it out. She wouldn’t give him the chance. "So, you think you can just come and go as you please, huh..." Dylan's grip on her shoulder tightened, his voice growing colder. "Since you're here, why don't you stay for a while?" "The wind’s pretty strong tonight—careful you don’t bite your tongue!" Suzy swiftly dodged his grip, twisting out of his hold, and in one fluid motion, threw a sharp punch directly at him. But Dylan wasn’t easy prey either, effortlessly dodging her attack. The two were locked in a fierce exchange, trading blow after blow, kick after kick. After dozens of moves, neither had the upper hand. Dylan chuckled, "Not bad." Suzy smirked. "You're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Wright." But then, his eyes flashed dangerously, and he switched tactics, aiming a series of strikes at her abdomen. Realizing his intent, Suzy shifted her defenses to protect her midsection, but in an unexpected move, Dylan suddenly diverted his hand, reaching for her mask instead.	LEARN_MORE	https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&ut	Indulge in story	https://www.facebook.com/61552702618591/	865	1969-12-31 18:00	Learn More	beokn.com	DCO		https://beokn.com/market/buenovela/3?lpid=14871&utm_campaign={{campaign.name}}&utm_content={{campaign.id}}&adset_name={{adset.name}}&adset_id={{adset.id}}&ad_id={{ad.id}}&ad_name={{ad.name}}&placement={{placement}}	1969-12-31 18:00	https://scontent-iad3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t39.35426-6/463457255_1100163098194107_747618574130675275_n.jpg?stp=dst-jpg_s60x60_tt6&_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-7&_nc_sid=c53f8f&_nc_ohc=K_yq-m5c4fkQ7kNvgHgQBrt&_nc_zt=14&_nc_ht=scontent-iad3-1.xx&_nc_gid=Af2lTknhqAzAoo7Vei5y4xz&oh=00_AYAFJJoheg16YczcUgpKBK5bl6PF1bce8nX6YeoEuWJcew&oe=6760302F	PERSON_PROFILE	Indulge in story	1969-12-31 18:00	View Edit Delete

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